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metal-mouse · 1 year

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Because You're Mine

pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC (m/f pairing)

themes: smut. troping tropeily. ye olde patch him up and then bang him.

warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v. unprotected sex. fingering. horrendous pull out game. possessive!Ominis. someone threatens to dose you with a love potion. blood. mentions of violence. everyone is aged up.

summary: 3.9k word count. You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

note: Had a dream about this recently and decided to share it as a treat and also sometimes the best way to break through writer's block is to lean on the tropiest of tropes. Come get y'all juice. left MC house as ambiguous - I'm very Slytherin coded my b. i take liberties on what kind of undergarments they wear. Not an ounce of editing to be found.

@anto-pops @localravenclaw look guys i finished it

You didn’t look up from your book as the door to the Room of Requirement groaned open. There were only two people who knew of this room besides you, and as Professor Weasley hadn’t stepped foot in it since your fifth year, that left only one person.

“Hello Ominis.” You called out your greeting, nearing the end of the page. He didn’t respond, which made you look up. You dropped the book and sat up straight at the sight of him. His cheeks were pink, there was a gash on the bridge of his nose which was steadily dripping blood, and one of his eyes was beginning to swell shut. Worry filled you, as your mind went to all of the worst case scenarios for what could have caused this. You stood up and hurried towards him, urging him to sit down on the sofa you had just been occupying.

“Hello.” He said finally, in a dejected voice.

“Are you alright?” You asked, a table appearing next to you with a bowl of water and some cloths. You very gently took his jaw in your hands as you tilted his head up to inspect his wounds. The cut on his nose was deep, and now that you were up close you could see his nose was slightly crooked. His pain was very evident, and his frown likely wasn’t making it any better.

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking.” Ominis hissed as you turned his head to get a better look at his eye. You were fairly certain his cheekbone wasn’t broken, which was more than you could say for his poor nose.

“What happened?” You asked, ignoring his irritated sarcasm. If anything, it only suggested to you that he was fine beyond the wounds on his face and possibly a bruised ego. You weren’t sure if you had the skill to repair his nose. In the last year, you’d taken to spending more time in the hospital wing with Nurse Blainey. You’d assisted her during a detention once, and she had been more than happy to show you some of the healing arts. You knew the spell… perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to try?

“I got into a fight.” He said, skirting around your question.

“Well, obviously. I would love some detail, if you’re willing to provide. When Sebastian comes around all beat up like this it makes sense, but you mostly keep your hands to yourself,” You said while taking one of the cloths and gently pressing it to his nose, “hold that. I’m out of wiggenweld, I’m going to brew some.” His hand replaced yours as he held the cloth to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. You looked down at his uniform. His shirt and tie were covered in blood.

“Is detail truly important? I was in a fight, and now I’m here.” Ominis’ voice was muffled from the cloth. You poured some water into the cauldron atop your potions station. He was usually very open with you, content to tell you all of his deepest thoughts. Somewhere deep in your mind you wondered if this fight had somehow been caused by you. He had gone to Hogsmeade today with Sebastian, and Rookwood’s Ashwinders still tried to prey on you. You prepared your Horklump juice and Dittany leaves, waiting for the water in the cauldron to begin bubbling. It was strange that he would keep something like that from you, even if he didn’t want you to worry.

“It’s clearly bothering you a lot, Ominis.” You said softly. He made an angry noise and didn’t respond. Now that the cauldron was bubbling, you added the ingredients and stirred the correct amount of times. You turned away to let it brew until it was ready, and returned to Ominis’ side. You wordlessly took the cloth from him and pulled it aside. It was drenched in blood, but it had mostly stopped the bleeding coming from both his nostrils and the gash on the bridge of his nose.

“Ouch!” He hissed as you reached up and gently poked at his nose.

“Stay still. It’s broken. Does anything else hurt?” You mumbled, climbing into his lap and holding his face steady with one hand. You fumbled for your wand, and he let out a little panicked breath and shook his head a little.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his good eye widening slightly.

“The Wiggenweld can’t straighten a broken nose. Don’t move. Episkey!” You said. He yelped as his nose cracked back into its normal position and the gash healed. You nodded in approval, pleased that the spell had worked. You’d never cast it beyond Nurse Blainey’s watchful eye.

“There. I bet you can breathe a little better now.” You said, removing yourself from his lap to check on your potion. Ominis took a long, very audible breath. You watched him as he reached up and felt his nose. He looked absolutely miserable. Your lips pressed together in a frown, it was worrying how little information he was willing to divulge.

“Have you seen Sebastian?” He asked.

“No, I thought he was with you.” You said, scooping some of your completed wiggenweld potion into a glass. Anxiety briefly pulsed in your chest, worrying that whoever had attacked Ominis had also gotten Sebastian. No. He wouldn’t have come to you unless he knew Sebastian was safe.

“He never met me. Must be with Violet.” He snorted, sounding absolutely furious with his friend. You tilted your head, making a small sound of agreement. Violet McDowell was Sebastian’s particular flavour this week after you’d forbidden him from asking Poppy Sweeting on a date. You had promised him swift and painful retribution if he had even looked at Poppy without the intent of marrying her and loving her forever.

“Here. Drink this.” You said, handing Ominis the glass full of wiggenweld. You crouched in front of him, a hand on his knee balancing him as he drank. The bruising around his eye faded, and he sighed with relief as he set down the now empty glass. You stayed crouched before him, your fingers drumming on his knee as a sign that you would love an explanation.

“You really can’t just let it go?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m worried. It’s frightening when you get hurt.” You squeezed his knee a little. He let out a little sight, his frown softening.

“No, please don’t apologize. It should be me apologizing, I can see how someone arriving covered in blood would be worrying - especially for you.” He put his hand over yours. You stood then, setting your wand to the side as you settled down beside him.

“If you really don’t want to tell me what happened, please just tell me if this is going to be a recurring problem.” You said in compromise, taking his hand again. He looked deep in thought, clearly battling with his inner thoughts.

“I heard two sixth-years plotting about how they were going to slip you a love potion.” Ominis said finally. You blinked in surprise. Out of everything that could have come out of his mouth, that had been the one you least expected.

“A love potion?” You echoed. He nodded, and you admired the rage on his face. He’d fought two boys purely because they wanted to give you a love potion. You fought the smile spreading on your lips. For someone who was awfully composed, he was certainly prone to his jealous moments.

“Yes. A love potion. They’re lucky I haven’t gone directly to the Headmaster. I should have them both expelled.” He sneered. Your face went hot at the arrogance in his voice. You leaned in, loosening his bloody tie and tossing it to the side.

“You’re covered in blood.” You informed him. He wasn’t really listening to you at all, instead he was caught up in his own rage. You took that opportunity to unbutton his shirt so you could remove it and try to clean the blood off.

“Foolish, impudent worms. Gryffindors always think they’re entitled to that which is not theirs.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves when you tugged on his shirt. He may not have been paying attention to you, but you were hanging onto his every word. That which is not theirs? That statement certainly held some heavy implications. You were grateful he’d stepped in of course, love potions were risky and you did prefer to make your own decisions.

Ominis continued his monologue, describing precisely what he had done to the Gryffindor boys for their crime. You took a clean cloth and dampened it to wipe the blood off his neck and chest. He’d been exceptionally cruel to the boys, and every word he spoke had your heart beating faster. It was becoming difficult to pay attention to your cleaning. He’d taken their threat personally, and had essentially destroyed them for it. Broken their wands, hanging them upside down from a tree, blackened eyes, he had truly done a number on them. Out of your little trio he was widely regarded as the most peaceful, with Sebastian being the most violence-prone and you falling somewhere between the two. He was incredibly protective of you, something you’d discovered even when your friendship had only just begun to bloom.

His hand closed around your wrist suddenly, and you realized you had stopped moving. You looked at his face, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were still pink, and he held an expression you’d never seen before. You were suddenly desperate to break the silence. His other hand lifted to your cheek, his fingers delicately tracing along your jawline.

“They can’t have you.” He whispered, his fingers moved down your neck slowly. Your breath hitched at this display of possessive intimacy that you had never seen before. You and Ominis had your fair share of intimate moments, but this? Never anything like this. This was an entirely new side to him. It was something you’d expect of Sebastian, the man who moped over girls he’d barely been involved with for longer than a week, but never Ominis. You didn’t know what to say. When you had first crossed that border between friendship and something more, it had been relatively laid back. You went for walks together, bought each other sweets and butterbeers from Hogsmeade, and spent late nights in each other’s arms in the Room of Requirement or the Undercroft. This change was almost as unexpected as its impact on you. You knew deep down that this should not be making you so aroused.

“Where has thi–'' You were cut off when Ominis leaned in and kissed you. You dropped the cloth from your hand as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap. You draped one arm behind his neck, and rested the palm of your other on his cheek with your fingers in his hair as you matched his passion. It wasn’t rough, so much as it was claiming. His cold hands pressed against the skin of your back making you gasp and arch against him. He took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving so sinfully your core was steadily aching now. You knew precisely what that tongue was capable of, and you’d grown to anticipate it. Dream about it even.

His rapidly warming fingers stroked your sides as he brought them under your front and withdrew them from your shirt entirely. As Ominis began to unbutton your shirt, you began to lightly rock your hips to create some friction between you and the bulge in his trousers. He let out a low groan and proceeded to rip your shirt open. Your eyes snapped open as you sat back a little bit in surprise, but he pulled you back against him with a single tug of your shirt. His hands went to your chest, and he let out a dark laugh against your mouth when he felt only skin. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt. His mouth lowered and he left hot, wet kisses and little nips down your jaw and onto your neck. You couldn’t contain the small moans and gasps that tumbled from your lips.

Ominis’ tongue ran along your collar, and his hands roamed to your backside where he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up more. The hand you had in his hair shot to the back of the sofa to brace yourself. You cried out as he bit down on the side of your breast. His tongue delicately swiped out licking the hurt he’d just caused. He held you up with one arm, his other hand running along your backside and between your legs. The fabric of your trousers was disappointingly thick, and you felt far too constrained while wearing them. His hand moved to cup your breast as he swirled his tongue over your sensitive nipple. He stopped suddenly, his hands falling to your waist as he pushed you back slightly.

“Take off your trousers.” He commanded. The bark in his voice sent a wave of heat to your core. You stood up, fumbling with the buttons before finally pushing them down. He reached out and made a sound of displeasure when his hands ran over your underwear. He hooked his thumbs in the waistline and yanked them down. You stepped out of your trousers and undergarments, and Ominis checked to make sure you’d done precisely what he had wanted. He made no move to remove his trousers. You stared at his bulge desperate to see him undressed. It wasn’t fair that you were now bare in front of him, and he was still half-dressed.

“I want to taste you.” You pleaded in an attempt to get him to take his trousers off.

“As reluctant as I am to deny you, don’t you think you’ve taken enough care of me today?” Ominis’ lips twisted into an arrogant smile, as he turned you around and pulled you back. You fell into his lap. One of his arms looped around you pulling you back against his chest. His lips pressed to your neck, leaving kisses and small bites all along the smooth column. He pushed your legs open wide, biting down hard on the flesh of your shoulder. You cried out, your eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable pain. One hand ran along the inside of your thigh, and the other stayed planted on your belly.

“Those fools think they could have this. That they could have what is mine.” His breath was hot on your neck. You whined as his hand stroking your thigh got closer and closer to where you wanted it.

“Please Ominis.” You complained when his fingers brushed next to your wet and aching center but he didn’t touch it. Your lip curled, two could play at this game. You began to rotate your hips slowly, grinding down on the bulge in his pants. Your hands covered his and you moved them to where you wanted them to be. One between your legs on your heat, the other cupping your breast. He huffed out a laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He chided.

“I thought you wanted to prove I’m yours.” Now this spurred him on. Without warning he curled two fingers inside of you. Your back arched as you let out a gasp and Ominis began to pump his long fingers deep inside of you, ensuring the heel of his palm pressed against your clit while he worked. While his fingers curled against your sweet spot, you shamelessly rutted against his palm to elevate you even higher into ecstasy.

“Is that better, darling?” He asked, nibbling on the back of your ear.

“Uh huh.” You moaned, nodding your head. You wished you could kiss him. You wanted to face him and have him buried deep inside of you. You would have turned around if this didn’t feel so fucking good. There was something about him being in complete control and doing what he wanted with you. You weren’t even tied up, yet you felt useless to do anything to pleasure him beyond grinding against his bulge. There was a tantalizing pressure building inside of you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Ominis seemed to have realized as he pressed further into you and his fingers kept up the exact same pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

“Right there?” He asked. You nodded against him, unable to form a coherent thought. You writhed against him, pressing his palm hard against your clit. Your eyes squeezed shut as you fell over the edge and bolts of pleasure made your toes curl. You let out a sinful scream that may have been his name. Ominis didn’t stop, letting you ride out your orgasm on his hand until your knees clamped together and he withdrew. You were a panting mess as he gently guided you to lay on your back. You heard the sound of his belt hitting the ground, and you opened your eyes and watched him pull down his trousers. You moaned at the sight of his cock springing free, delightfully pink and large.

Ominis knelt on the couch between your knees, lowering himself over you. Impatient and greedy, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to press your lips to his. You were hungry for him, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip prompting him to open up for you. You were certain the way he tasted would stay with you for the rest of your life, so damn sweet and addicting. Reaching down, you gently wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it with your entrance. Slowly, Ominis pressed into you with a low moan. You were distracted from your kiss at the feeling of his cock filling you up. He always went slow when he started, knowing it drove you crazy. Once he was sheathed fully inside of you, he stayed completely still aside from the hand that laced in your hair lifting your head again to press a sweet kiss against your lips.

“I’ve always been yours.” You whispered as his forehead rested against yours. His eyes snapped open at this, his fingers curling so he was pulling your hair. He ground into you, and you choked on a moan. Ominis pulled out nearly all the way and slammed back into you with a husky groan. He hooked his free arm behind your knee, pushing your leg up and out of the way as he settled into a slow and steady rhythm.

“Of course you have. I fit s-so perfectly, it’s like you were made for me.” The little stammer in his sentence made your heart flutter. You gasped when Ominis rolled his hips forward deepening his thrusts. Your nails scraped across his shoulders as your mind was overtaken by pleasure and thoughts of him. The moans and small praises that came as a steady stream from his mouth paired with his cock hitting every angle inside of you had you on a high you didn’t think possible.

You arched your back in an attempt to let him deeper inside of you. Despite being connected at your most intimate part, you wanted more. You wanted inside of his heart, inside of his soul. Through your pleasure, you opened your eyes to look upon his face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, his mouth hung open and his skin completely flushed, his hair an absolute mess. You loved it. Without warning, Ominis picked up the pace slamming into you without restraint. You dug your fingernails into his shoulders now, forcing him down to kiss you. His arms wrapped around your waist arching your back even further and changing the angle which he fucked into you. Between the feeling of his lips on yours, and his cock inside your already sensitive cunt, you were rapidly tumbling towards another orgasm. When Ominis took one hand from under you and reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit, your head fell back.

“Come.” Ominis ordered, and you didn’t even have it in you to scream this time. Ominis muttered a string of curse words as your walls clenched around him and you rose up to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder. It was almost painful how hard he had made you come, and some primal part of you needed him to share in that feeling. He kept his steady pace, not faltering once as he chased his own pleasure with a great moan. The hand that had been rubbing you clamped around your neck and squeezed. You watched him and saw in his face he was close. You met his thrusts, matching his rhythm. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat had formed across his body. In that moment you were certain that it wouldn’t matter if someone gave you a love potion, Ominis was all you’d be able to see.

“Yours, Ominis.” You whispered, incapable of telling him truly what you were thinking. His fingers dug into you and his grip on your neck tightened. Almost there. You watched in awe as his head dropped and he let out a guttural groan that slightly resembled your name. His cock twitched and his body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you with shallow thrusts. Ominis’ hand let go of your throat, and he collapsed on top of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and you wrapped your arms around him holding him tight to your chest. You pressed kisses to the top of his head and he let out a wordless groan. After a few moments passed, Ominis slowly pulled out leaving you feeling empty.

“We should have conjured a bed.” He mumbled. You let out a little laugh as one appeared next to the sofa. Ominis rolled over, taking you with him so that you were laying on his chest instead of him atop of you. You knew that you should get up and probably clean yourself off, but with his arms around you and your genuine concern about your ability to stand, you were content to just stay.

“Maybe you should get into more fights.” You sighed, reveling in the lovely feelings of your afterglow. He laughed, gently rubbing your back.

“If men don’t learn how to behave, I just might.” He said. You could do without him getting injured, but if this was how he reacted when he was jealous or feeling possessive? You could definitely get behind that.

“I’ll be here when you do.” You sighed, thinking about how you should really restock on your wiggenweld potions.

“And, for the foreseeable future, I will be tasting your food and drink before you.” Ominis said, making you snort.

“What am I, the Queen of England? I don’t need a food taster, Ominis, if anything I’ll just start carrying around an antidote to love potions.” You told him.

“You can be my Queen.” He grinned at you.

“You’re not allowed to speak with Sebastian anymore, he’s rubbing off on you.” You sat up a little bit to get a better angle as you looked down at his face.

“That’s your job, Darling.”

“My point has been proven.” You smiled widely at the sound of his laughter. When you were with Ominis is when you were happiest. You were safe, comfortable, and content. You were in love, and you were his.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt oneshot #ominis x you #ominis x reader #reni writes

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

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Selfless {Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: Follow up to Pretty Thoughts. (I tried to write in a way you could follow what’s going on without needing to read the last part though, so jump in if you’d like!) Sebastian isn’t waiting for your permission to help you with your assignments anymore. He knows what he wants, and he’s going after it. Takes place after MC meets Anne and before Seb’s final quest. Your Hogwarts house is up to you.

Word Count: ~ 1,700

Warnings: Kissing

Author’s Note: If he wanted to, he would is the fanfic lesson of the day. This one’s a bit shorter than my others, but I feel like so much more happened! I finished up this one quicker than I thought, so I’m going to be sneaky and edit here and there if I see any typos (my worst nightmare). Hope everyone’s having a good day 🙂

Songs (if interested):

Run Away to Mars - TALK

Greek Tragedy - The Wombats

Mr. Rager - Kid Cudi

The World - TeZATalks

Sebastian was lounging on a couch in the Slytherin common room, one hand behind his head, the other rubbing at his lips. He was trying to remember the feel of your mouth on his when you had kissed him in the library. He knew a memory wasn’t the most reliable thing, but he could have sworn he felt your tongue at one point. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance remembering the part where the two of you had to pull apart because you heard Madam Scribner approaching.

He was going to try to get another kiss in after the two of you would have left the library together. But something shifted in your mood and you ran off without him. He had been confuzzled about it ever since. It couldn’t have been that he was a bad kisser, he didn’t think the two of you would have stopped if you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

He had tried to catch you before you left the castle that morning, but you were nowhere to be found. He was learning fast that it wasn’t going to be easy making you his. He needed to step it up, because you were a slippery one. Just when he thought he had you in the palm of his hand, you were gone.

He decided to stop moping and take action. He shot up off the couch and went to find a few people who he was thankful were easier to find.

When Sebastian arrived back on campus, he was covered in scrapes and bruises, and he absolutely reeked of dirt and sweat. Merlin’s beard, was this what you did nearly every day? He needed to toughen up if he wanted to keep up with you.

After going to find Poppy and Natty, he had asked them about everything they had planned on helping you with. He told them he would take over, lying and saying he had similar assignments. He built up quite the list: Horklumps that could only be found in caves filled with ginormous spiders, ashwinder eggs he had to find hiking in the rockiest of places, and even bogeys he had managed to knock out a troll for. The professors had no hesitancy throwing you in the deep end, did they?

He was almost worried he bit off more than he could chew, but he had managed to complete the list, making the fatigue he felt oddly satisfying.

Despite being aware of his untidy state, he headed towards the dining hall. He thanked his lucky stars he had made it back before dinner time ended. He needed to get food in him or he would faint.

A majority of the students were gone, having already gotten their fill. He began making his way to find a seat, enchanted bag in hand. But among the few students left in the dining hall, he caught sight of you. Luck was officially on his side that day, he didn’t think he would have found you at all that weekend. He headed your way, wanting to walk faster but the soreness in his legs wouldn’t allow him.

He plopped the bag on the table, startling you. He didn’t wait for you to say anything and slumped down in the empty spot next to you, too tired to lift his legs over the bench. He leaned his elbows back on the table and let his head fall back.

After allowing himself a brief moment to finally do nothing but sit that day, he met your questioning gaze and he gestured to the bag with his chin. “Hope this helps.”

You squinted your eyes at him, trying to work out what he was talking about.

“Go on. Open it.”

You grabbed the bag and peeked inside. It didn’t take long for you to realize it had a charm to fit what looked like a dozen large jars. Getting a closer look, you realized they were full of items you needed for your latest assignments.

“Sebastian...” A proud smile tugged at his lips at the pleasant surprise in your voice. He leaned his head back again, another wave of exhaustion hitting him.

“I told you I wanted to help you.”

“This is... amazing. I -...” You were at a loss for words, shaking your head in disbelief. “I owe you, Sebastian. Please, let me know how I can repay you.”

He glanced back at you, raising a brow. “What are you going on about? You don’t owe me a thing.”

Something warm and fuzzy formed in your chest. This was not the Sebastian you first met. What ever happened to the Slytherin who was so eager to have people in his debt?

“Then why would you - …?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you?” He smirked.

You looked back down into the bag, hiding the smirk of your own that formed. “Please do.”

He loosely took your hand in his. He would have grabbed it with a firmer hold if he could, but his forearms were aching too much. “You make me nervous too.”

You looked up to return his gaze and your heart fluttered.

“I’d do anything you’d ask of me.” The way he said it while looking deep into your eyes, as if he needed you to understand he meant it, made you want to melt. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. “Please don’t run off.”

Finding your voice, you assured with a whisper, “I won’t.” You squeezed his hand back.

He smiled, relief overwhelming him. “Now that we’ve got that settled,” he gave your hand a quick kiss. Releasing it, he swung his legs over the bench to face the mouth watering platters. “I hate to ask, but could you help me get some of the food onto my plate. I think my arms are going to fall off.”

The two of you laughed and you happily obliged.

“Food really does taste better after a day like this.” Sebastian sighed, dreamily thinking back on how the first bite of many had made him want to cry.

“It does. I don’t know how I’ll survive when we don’t have Hogwarts cooking to come home to.” You replied as the two of you made your way to the Slytherin common room. You were going to drop him off and then head out to do your astronomy assignment. Once again, Sebastian had offered to come with, but seeing how he was practically asleep on his feet, you pleaded for him to get washed up and straight to bed.

Standing outside of the Slytherin common room, Sebastian let out a long exhale, thinking about how close to his bed he was. Oh how he wanted to collapse onto it. He looked to you. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

“You will.” You smiled at him.

He smiled back and turned to make his way into the common room.

“Sebastian, wait.” You grabbed for his hand with the gentlest touch. He stopped walking and faced you again.

“Yes?”

“I know you’re tired, but...” You drifted off as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

Though he was exhausted, he mustered up all the energy he could to kiss you back, hoping he would catch some kind of a second wind.

He tasted earthy and salty from the dirt and sweat that covered him. The hand that cupped your neck felt extra rough and callused then, but you didn’t care. Thinking about everything he had done for you that day, you wanted more of him. Your tongue just barely licked his bottom lip and it sent a shiver up his spine.

Truth be told, you always went a little mad when he was disheveled and sweaty like this. Whenever he needed to take off his robes and roll up his sleeves, it made you weak. He especially caught your eye after dueling matches, he would be worn out with clothes and hair disordered. You always ached to stroke his hair back into place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around your lower back. He wanted to lift you off the ground but his muscles painfully screamed in protest. So he settled for just biting at your bottom lip instead, eliciting a light moan from you.

You weren’t masters of kissing yet. Still learning the ropes, the two of you could only do what felt right in the moment, be it little nips or licks here and there. Neither of you seemed to mind, however.

The echoing sounds of students chattering and making their way down the stairs stopped your kiss. He sighed into your neck, still holding you close. “We need to find better places to do this.” And with one final kiss to your jaw he pulled away.

“Probably for the best, you need to get some rest.” You told him, straightening your shirt.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” His eyelids were heavy, and you thought it was the most precious you’d ever seen him.

“You’re adorable.” You told him with a cheeky smile you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, please never call me that again.” He rubbed roughly at his eyes, too sleepy to be that annoyed with your words.

You took subtle glances to see if anyone around you was looking your way. When you felt you were in the clear, you snuck a peck to his cheek, surprising him. “See you at breakfast.” And off you went.

He watched after you. You gave him quite the reward for his actions that day, he ought to do stuff like this more often.

Someone behind him gagged. “My word!” Sebastian, startled, turned to see Ominis with a face contorted in pure disgust. “You smell putrid!”

Sebastian could only nod in agreement. “I’m aware. Now, help me into the common room, will you? I think I’m about to collapse.”

Ominis scoffed “I am going nowhere near you.” He began towards the common room without him.

“Ominis, please, I’m not joking.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc

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sloanesallow · 3 months

Text

lavender haze

Sebastian runs into some...difficulties while brewing a potion. (Previously written in October, not posted to tumblr). ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Sexual content (masturbation), character under the influence of Amortentia. 1.7k words [Read on Wattpad] - [Read on Ao3]

Sebastian is distracted.

What should be just another session in the Undercroft is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated. Not because of the subject material, but because of the study partner.

Sloane.

Beautiful and brilliant Sloane.

He sits cross-legged on the stone floor, tension coiled tight in his gut as he watches his friend, his just friend, with a kind of lust that he ought to be ashamed of. Sebastian has always been fond of Sloane, grateful for her companionship and willingness to stick by his side through thick and thin. He is unable to pinpoint exactly when his thoughts about her switched from innocent to debauchery.

There is something different about her, something that stirs his blood and sends his heart into a frenzy. He has seen her every day, has known her for years, the two sharing laughter and tears and everything in between. It is more than infatuation, but he is too afraid to call it love. He settles on an emotion he is more familiar with—desire. He wants Sloane all for himself, the selfish bastard that he is.

Intrusive, wicked thoughts continue to swirl in his mind. He wants her in his bed, wants to fall to his knees and worship at the altar that is her body and soul, wants to devour her until she screams his name—

Oh, he is well and truly fucked.

Sebastian attempts to focus on the small cauldron of bubbling liquid he is slowly stirring but soon finds himself tracking her movements through the dungeon. Sloane's ash-blonde hair has grown out over the years, a few golden strands shimmering under the light of the flickering candles that hang from the ceiling. He openly stares as she bends over to fetch a book from her satchel, the fabric of her skirt moving across the curve of her bottom.

He swallows hard, a surge of heat threatening to swallow him whole. Sebastian shifts, wishing he had his robe to drape over his lap right about now. Sloane sits back down next to him, taking the stirstick and sending a shock through his body as her fingers against his. He snaps his attention to the parchment balancing on his knee, even if he can't for the life of him translate the gibberish that is his handwriting.

"It should be more pink, don't you think?" Sloane asks, softly laughing at her own rhyme.

Sebastian nods, fixated on her lips. "Yeah."

Her tongue pokes out as she bites it in concentration, adding a few more ashwinder eggs to the mixture, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil. There is a faint stain of red on her lips, makeup that her and some of the other seventh-year girls have been experimenting with. All Sebastian can wonder is if she kissed him, would she leave marks behind—on his lips, on his throat, on the sensitive patch on skin just above his hip-bone. He clenches his jaw, fighting the spine-tingling shiver at the thought of her lipstick staining his pillow.

Stop—he silently implores his mind, biting his nails into his palm before the last of his resolve spirals out of control. Sloane speaks again but he cannot hear what she says over the ringing in his ears. He watches the subtle way her throat tightens and relaxes around the words, wanting nothing more than to press his lips there and taste the saltiness of her skin.

"Sebastian."

His name falling from her lips snaps him out of the haze, if only for a moment. With a strangled chuckle, he meets her gaze and flashes a sheepish grin. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if there were any more rose petals," she says, pointing to the pouch of ingredients nearest to him.

Sebastian startles into action, sifting through the inventory but finding nothing but powdered moonstone and peppermint. "Looks like we used them all."

"That's...not right," Sloane frowns, her brows furrowed in thought. She reaches over and takes the notes from him, nearly causing him to flinch. "Did we forget to add something? Or..." she trails, looking far too adorable as she pouts. "It doesn't look like the potion Professor Sharp brewed today."

Sebastian cannot remember what he had for lunch, let alone the potions lecture from that morning. He frowns, not wanting his distracted mind and wandering eyes to jeopardize their grade. Not when the project will ultimately affect their NEWT scores.

"Should we start over?" he asks, clearing his throat when his voice comes out garbled.

Sloane nods and is suddenly pushing off the ground to stand. She gestures for him to pass her the pouch and she peers inside to see for herself. "I'll be right back. Maybe I can ask the Professor for some advice while restocking."

Before Sebastian can say anything to stop her she is slipping past the iron gates of the Undercroft entrance and disappearing from view. He grumbles to himself, reaching down rather awkwardly to readjust the growing arousal in his trousers. In an effort to keep his mind and hands busy, he flicks through the book Sloane left behind, reading through her neat notes in the margin.

"Love potion," he mutters under his breath. "Pink or red in color."

His eyes glance over the edge of the book to see that whatever is brewing inside the small cauldron, it is not a love potion. Sebastian purses his lips in worry, flicking through the pages for anything that fits the description of what he sees. Somewhere in the back of his mind he already knows, the spiraling steam wafting through the air and invading his senses.

Amortentia.

Sebastian's stomach drops as his heart rate spikes. Only he would find himself in this situation, the accidental creation of the most powerful love potion in the world. He huffed a laugh and wondered—is this the reason for his wild thoughts? But then why wasn't Sloane affected?

Maybe he was a love-struck fool afterall.

Whatever the explanation, Sebastian is unable to form another coherent thought as a silky tendril of the potion sneaks up his nose, instantly setting his soul on fire. It is like every nerve in his body is firing at once, yearning and demanding attention so intensely that it hurts. His pupils dilate and with every staggered breath he can hear the echo of his heart, pounding so loudly in his chest he topples over.

He blinks hard, holding himself up against the nearby chaise. All he can see behind his closed lids is Sloane, her stormy eyes sparkling with mischief as she beckons him with her curved smile and tantalizing tongue.

"Fuck," he curses, snapping open his eyes.

Sebastian gathers enough strength to fight his wobbling legs, collapsing against the cushions as his entire body trembles. He sucks in a breath only to discover Sloane's scent is everywhere, the fabric of her forgotten robe spread out beneath his head. With every blink he can see her, feel her pressing against him, the ghost of her touch prickling his skin.

Frantically, he untucks his dress-shirt from his pants, bunching the fabric up around his torso as he fumbles to unfasten the clasps of his trousers. Sebastian wiggles his hips until he is free from the constricting clothes, his cock twitching as it makes contact with the cool air of the room.

With a shaky hand he grasps himself, hissing as his fingers clench of their own accord. He tries to pace himself, but the Amortentia forces him to focus on nothing but his arousal and deep seeded fantasy of claiming Sloane, fucking her until she is nothing but a whimpering mess beneath him.

God what he wouldn't do to have her right now, to have her delicate hand wrapped around his length, to be buried deep inside her core, not stopping until they both stumble over the edge of ecstasy.

His strokes become even as his hips jerk up to meet his hand, the vivid, imagined vision of Sloane before him—on top of him—making it impossible to hold back. A tiny, desperate plea forms in the back of his throat as he rolls onto his side, wondering if there is some deity that might grant his one desire. Sebastian reaches up with his free hand, grabbing Sloane's robe and pressing it to his face so he can breathe in the sweet smell of her perfume and stifle his groans.

In his fevered delusion, it is almost as if she is really there, her lithe and naked body writhing against him as their moans filled the otherwise empty room. He whispers her name over and over again before the syllables bubble on the tip of his tongue, tumbling out in a cry, "Sloane!"

With a strangled croak he meets his end, spilling onto his fist and the chaise cushions. Sebastian lays there, his whole body tense as the remainder of his release flows through him. The intense passion fades away, dissolving into a deep guilt that sinks his heart into the pit of his stomach. An overwhelming wave of exhaustion hits him before he can do more than tug his pants back into place.

He faints, or at least momentarily loses consciousness.

When he flutters open his eyes, Sebastian isn't sure how much time has passed. For a moment, he doesn't even realize he's still in the Undercroft, or that his head isn't resting against a pillow but Sloane's thigh instead.

He blinks, the feel of her fingers brushing through his hair comforting, if not equally terrifying. What feels like a damp rag passes across his forehead and he glances up to see her face.

"Am I dreaming?"

"No," she answers with a small smile. "I don't think so."

His heart skips a beat. "Did you—did you see?"

"No," she says again but the slight tint to her cheeks speaks volumes. Sebastian is about to question the appearance of her blush when her voice drops into a whisper. "But I heard...everything."

Sebastian briefly wonders if he can end his own life with a killing curse, or at least set himself on fire so he can escape the rush of embarrassment and shame that settles in his bones. He blinks, air wheezing out of his parted lips once he remembers to breathe.

He gulps, the weight of his tongue heavy in his mouth. Reluctantly, he lifts his gaze to her face and is shocked to find her expression is calm. "We have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

At least Sloane is smiling when she says, "yes, we do."

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #fanfic #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow smut

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dittanyinbloom · 1 year

Text

Hand Written

The final part to Note Taking and Study Habits

Ominis x fem!MC, fluff, kissing, it is just kissing but I wouldn’t say it’s safe to read at work

This is all so self indulgent but idc I write for my own entertainment first and foremost

.✉️��❄️

Over the weekend, you ran into a bit of trouble. Your first trip to Hogsmeade with Natty had famously resulted in a troll battle, but most people didn’t know that the journey hadn’t ended there. During a well-deserved butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, you were confronted by Victor Rookwood and Theophilus Harlow. One thing led to another, and now as of late, you and Natty found yourself acting as protectors of the Highlands. Whenever one of you heard of Ashwinders causing mayhem, the two of you would team up and hunt them down. This time, you may have bit off more than you could chew.

The wizards you fought against that weekend had been poachers. Not only that, but Theophilus Harlow himself had shown to the battle. By then, you had already taken a few curses and had long since exhausted your supply of Wiggenweld potion. Lucky for you, they had captured two hippogriffs, one of them being Poppy Sweeting’s friend Highwing. The killing curse was thrown, but thanks to the hippogriffs, you and Natty had made it out, narrowly.

The next morning, the two of you had joined Poppy for breakfast to ask what should be done about the two fully grown hippogriffs in your nab-sack.

“Well, I would say to release them back to their home, but with all the poachers still running about. . .” Poppy sighed heavily. Scotland wasn’t safe for any beast at the moment.

“There is somewhere I could take them,” you offered hesitantly, “I didn’t want to take Highwing there without your approval since the two of you are so close. But I can show you, both of you.” You smiled at Natty. “It’s quite extraordinary, actually. I’ve been waiting for the right time to share it with people.”

Natty returned your smile. “You have me intrigued.”

Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Is it close enough for us to go after classes today?”

“Why wait until after classes?” Then you were standing from your seat in the Great Hall to lead the girls out. Overhead, the owls had arrived to deliver the morning mail. A letter was dropped on the table for you, and you placed it directly in your robes for later. Most of the mail you received was from people asking for favors or updating you on ongoing quests they’d assigned you. Whatever it was could wait for now.

The girls followed you out of the Great Hall, giggling and unable to contain their excitement for whatever Hogwarts mystery you were about to show them.

Sharing the Room of Requirement with others re-sparked your excitement for the space. The three of you rushed in nearly late to Charms. You snatched food from the Great Hall during lunch just to run back to the Astronomy tower. Poppy took to the skies of the vivarium. Natty had fallen asleep on your couch cuddling a puffskin. You debated dozing off as well, exhausted from the weekend, but you stayed vigilant and watched over the time to know when you would have to drag the other girls to DADA.

“That. . was. . brilliant!” Poppy had an arm hooked around one of both yours and Natty’s elbows. Her balance was still off from the flight.

“Now that the two of you know it’s there, I think you should be able to find it yourselves. I’m not in the castle much these days, so the beasts would love your company.”

Natty brightened at the invitation. “I’m looking forward to exploring as my animagus form when I am better rested. Galloping around was not in the stars for today.”

“That puffskin took quite the liking to you,” you teased.

“I had an inkling you would be good with beasts, Natty,” Poppy commented, “You have a warm soul. The creatures see that.”

After classes, the three of you were yet again exploring the room. Free from needing to keep track of time, you planted yourself on the couch for a well-deserved rest. As you turned on your side, a curious crunching sounded from under you. You frowned as you sat up, digging through your robes for the parchment preventing you from sleep.

The letter from that morning! Might as well open it now and find out what sort of predicament you would be spending the rest of your weeknights solving.

What caught your eye first was how meticulously the words were placed. There were perfectly even indentations on both sides. The spacing was exact, and the lines, while ever so slightly up and to the left, were even in height. Someone had planned out what they were going to say to you. This was rare among the desperate scribbles of your usual quests. Even professors who wrote to you about assignments were flippant with their quill strokes, far too busy to even attempt legibility for a mere student.

Y/N

I fear apologies are in order. Sebastian insists you’ve been distant this weekend because of my actions. Offending you was not my intentions. The touches were merely a way to express that I share the same sentiment. I think of you often. In fact, I have not been able to think of much else since you started taking my name. If I’ve misinterpreted your feelings, please meet me today after classes in the Undercroft. You are owed a proper apology face to face.

If you happen to feel the same, you know where I’ll be.

Yours Truly,

Ominis

You stood from the couch so fast the room was spinning. By now, he must have assumed you weren’t going to show. How awful he must feel to think you didn’t care enough about his letter to even address it.

“Deek!” You called out, wildly looking around the room for him.

He had popped up out of nowhere, startling you. “Yes, Miss?”

Pressing the letter against your chest in shock while trying to collect yourself, you uttered, “Would you be so kind as to let the girls know I had to leave, but they are welcome to stay for as long as they’d like?”

“Of course, Miss. is everything all right?”

“Yes, for once, I’ve received a letter with good news, but I must meet with the sender right away.”

“Deek will make sure your friends are well taken care of in your absence.”

“Thank you!”

By the time you arrived at the entrance of the Undercroft, you were out of breath and only panicking worse. What if he had already given up? What if he was angry? What if your late arrival changed how he felt? You stomped down the stairs as quick as your thick boots would allow and ducked under the metal grate since it wasn’t rising fast enough.

Finding yourself inside the echoey room was like being doused in the icy waters of the sea. All the adrenaline that had been fueling your sprint over had dwindled, leaving only trepidation in its wake.

“Ominis?” You called out, hating how loud your voice seemed against the dead silence of the room. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. You couldn’t even hear the faint sound of his breathing. You were alone.

“Ergh!” You let out through your teeth. How could you be so careless? Why couldn’t you have read the letter at any other point in the day? “Confringo!” You cast at a hanging candelabra. It swung violently from the momentum of your spell. The next victim was a tower of boxes. One by one exploding into bits, “Bombarda! Diffindo! Depulso!”

You turned on your heel, aiming at the desk in the corner that was rarely ever used for school-related revision. “Flipendo!” The contents crashed to the floor: a vase shattering, candles snapping in half, tomes scattering about. Still, the chaos didn’t feel like enough. You stormed over to the wreckage and kicked the now very sideways desk for good measure. Apparently, your steel-toe boots were a little worn down from all your adventures because you felt the impact jolt up even past your shin.

With absolutely no balance, you plummeted to the floor with a wince, grabbing at your foot in agony. “Mother of Merlin! So stupid!” You had fallen into the debris. Now that you were coming down from the rage, you frowned at the mess around you. Meekly, you uttered, “Reparo,” at the stack of boxes you’d destroyed.

Pushing yourself off the ground, you aimed at the desk next. In the blink of an eye, everything was in it’s rightful place. Even the tiny shard of glass in your palm had rejoined the vase.

You sat at the desk, exhausted from your meltdown. Your left hand landed on a folded piece of parchment. The only person who ever worked at this desk was Sebastian when he was reading something he wasn’t supposed to. Curious as to what kind of notes he was taking, you unfolded the paper to find the diligent penmanship from Ominis’s letter.

Y/N

We have to leave in a hurry. Anne is feeling too ill to walk, but Solomon is traveling in Egypt. He is meeting with old friends from the Ministry, Curse Breakers. Anne needs someone to look after her for a few days, and Sebastian didn’t want to go alone. He shouldn’t have to be alone, not at a time like this.

I hope this message finds you well.

Yours Truly,

Ominis

Oh, what a fool you had been. You looked up at the arching ceiling and let out a laugh of disbelief. While you were having a tissy fit about being late, Anne was suffering. Merlin, how idiotic you felt.

Ignorant, as Sebastian would so kindly say. And this time, he’d have been right.

If Solomon was away, you might have just the thing to lift the spirits in Feldcroft. All you needed was a quick trip to the Room of Requirement, and you could be on your way by curfew.

It was far too late to be knocking on someone’s door, but there you stood in the entryway in the dead of night. The air was bitter and unforgiving. The nights were always chilly this close to the sea, but this year's winter seemed to be never-ending. The moment you appeared at the floo station in the middle of town, you debated sending yourself right back to the warmth of your common room.

The front door swung open to reveal a familiar wand pointed at your face. Sebastian, looking rough from sleep, mustered up the deadliest glare he could and opened his mouth to spew out a threat. His scowl brightened to a brilliant smile, recognizing you were no foe.

“Well if it isn’t the subject of the hour herself!” He stepped aside, ushering you into the small home so he could shut out the harsh weather. “You had us thinking Ashwinders were looking for a fight.”

“Assuming they would knock,” Anne added as she sat up in her bed.

“Sorry to frighten you, and wake you. ., but with Solomon gone I thought these might be of use.” You pulled a bag of freshly picked shrivelfigs from your enchanted satchel. Ever since your first trip to Feldcroft, you had been growing them. The broken look on Sebastian’s face, when his uncle had ruined the one he had bought for Anne, was etched in your soul.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Sebastian mused as you handed him the fruit.

“I don’t think you’ve ever admitted you love me.”

“Hmm, very well. I’ll add it to my to-do list.”

“I look forward to it, Sallow.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Gaunt.”

“Hey now,” Anne chastised, “Did we not just discuss that at great length?

Sebastian rolled his eyes then turned to you, “I’m very sorry. Does the name make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” you admitted, braving a glance at Ominis who was sitting at the head of Sebastian’s bed. You nearly gasped at his appearance.

When Sebastian had answered the door, you didn’t take a second glance at his apparel. But seeing Ominis out of school robes was always a treat. Even those few times you had, he would still be sporting his uniform vest and button-down. Now he was wearing a long sleeve thermal that seemed too loose in every area it was meant to be tight for warmth. It was likely one of Solomon’s since the boys had to leave on the spot without having time to pack.

Ominis looked terribly endearing swimming in the giant shirt with blankets looking at his hips. His hair was still somehow in place despite the fact that they had clearly already been lying down before you came in. The space in the bed next to him was disheveled from Sebastian jumping out of bed to answer the door.

“Told you she likes him!” Anne proclaimed, talking with Sebastian as if you and Ominis weren’t in the room. Though, in her defense, with the way you were looking Ominis up and down, it may as well have been Anne and Sebastian that weren’t in the room.

“Then explain the cold shoulder!”

“She was probably busy being her usual self. You do remember her having ancient magic abilities to discover, don’t you?”

“That doesn’t explain not showing up to the Undercroft.” Sebastian refused to back down from the argument.

“But she’s here now, isn’t she?” Anne reached a hand out to you. “Come, Y/N. You can sleep with me. It’s late, and we should all be resting.”

Sebastian put his hands on his hips. “Don’t you think the married couple should-“

“Sebastian!” Ominis chastised. “Enough before I hex you. Get back to bed.”

You were timid to join Anne in the tiny bed. The old wood creaked in protest from your weight. She was quick to cover you in her warm blankets. Only then did you realize how badly you had been shivering from the cold. Anne’s head unabashedly laid on your shoulder as she hummed.

“This is lovely. Sebastian has refused to sleep in the same bed as me since we started school. We used to cuddle every night.”

Across the room, Sebastian seemed to groan in agony, “Anne, quit telling people that.”

Anne went on defiantly, “He used to be so sweet to me, but he drools in his sleep.”

You giggled. “Why am I not surprised? He drools a bit in his waking hours as well. Especially in Miss Garlick’s class.”

“Hmm, wonder why that is?”

From the boys’ side, a light slap rang out, followed by the sound of a wand clattering to the floor.

“Don’t hex them!” Ominis whispered.

“Just a silencing charm!” Sebastian said defensively.

The bed was empty when you woke up. Anne had not traveled far in their tiny abode. She was relaxing with tea at the dining table. Her plush armchair stood out between the other bare, wooden dining chairs. Ominis was awake and tending to the kettle. Sebastian was snoring. A dark spot had formed by his mouth on the pillow. You bit your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing.

Lovely blackmail material for later.

“Good morning,” Ominis said, holding out a steaming mug to you. His voice startled Anne who hadn’t even noticed you had woken up.

“Thank you.” From the smell alone, you could tell he put the perfect amount of sugar. You nearly melted into the cup yourself. What you would give to wake up every morning to Ominis. . . His hair had finally given in and fallen ever so slightly out of place due to not having its usual routine. He felt the wisps on his forehead and frowned, raising his hand to move them. You reached out, grabbing his wrist. “Leave it.”

He went from pink to red alarmingly fast. You sipped your tea and caught Anne’s watchful eye. She was smiling, despite her words, “I’m starting to pity Sebastian. He was right. This is disgusting to witness.”

Deciding it was your turn for a bit of fun, you teased, “Yes well, you and Sebastian might as well get used to it. Marriages do tend to last a while, the good ones, anyway.”

Adoring the opportunity to join in on the mischief, Anne added, “I guess so. Ominis is one of the good ones.”

“Precisely.”

Ominis had his own notes to go over on that very topic. He grabbed his coat from the hanger, shrugging it on as he asked, “Y/N, would you care to join me for a morning stroll? I thought we could pick something up from the vendor. He usually has bread ready by now, and this place is due for some more fresh food to go with those shrivelfigs. Maybe a few eggs for breakfast as well. .”

“I would love to.” You mimicked his movements to grab your coat, but he had picked it up first to hold it up for you. You couldn’t help but nervously glance at Anne who seemed very amused at the whole show behind her cup of tea.

Just one arm and then the other. It wasn’t so bad, that is, until after when he put his hands on both your shoulders and smoothed out the fabric. When you turned to face him, he held out an elbow for you to hold.

“Oh,” you murmured under your breath.

Timidly, you accepted his guide, but Ominis stayed frozen in the foyer for a second longer to ask, “I’m sorry, I’ve done it again, haven’t I? Is this arrangement all right with you?” He nodded toward where your hand was shamelessly finding its place on his arm.

“Yes, of course. You lead. I have no idea where we are going,” you assured him.

“It’s rare people ask me to lead them places,” Ominis was attempting a jovial tone, perhaps to put your budding nerves at ease.

It didn’t help much due to your mouth spewing words without a thought, “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Now it was Ominis muttering a soft, “Oh,” while mulling over the depth of your words.

Anne slurped her tea inappropriately loud, causing the two of you to jump. You offered her a sheepish smile, a silent apology for forgetting that you and Ominis were not alone.

“I want a niece or nephew named after me,” Anne proclaimed. “It’s the least you could do to make up for this.”

Throwing a look of annoyance Anne’s way, Ominis was quick to fire back, “I think Sebastian has that cover-“

“Consider it done!” You promised the girl.

Ominis quickly recovered from his shocked appearance to ask, “Do I not have a say in the naming of our child?”

“Take a moment to consider the benefits. If it’s named after her, she’ll be guilted into babysitting. Would you rather have Sebastian looking after our child while we’re away? We’d come back to a demon baby.“

“Bold of you to assume Anne is any more responsible than Sebastian. She caused quite a myriad of trouble in our early years, more so than Sebastian. Do not let her fool you. Sebastian has yet to beat her detention record. Try as he might.”

Then you were whisked away on a proper tour of Feldcroft. Sebastian had previously shown you around, but those landmarks were more about the places they had fought Goblins or where Anne had been cursed. Ominis was naming off what houses belonged to which neighbors and listing who grew what each season. He spoke as if this hamlet were his home, but you were well aware the Gaunts resided in Northern England.

Perhaps Feldcroft was more of a home to him than that place ever would be. That would make sense. Sebastian and Anne seemed more like family to him than the true family he spoke ill of. It was a fine place to call home. Quaint and quiet. There was more variety in the cities or even villages like Hogsmeade, but the hustle and bustle of those places got old. Visiting Feldcroft with Sebastian had always been a guilty pleasure. Pleasure because you craved simplicity after all your adventures, but guilty for feeling so at peace while Sebastian and Anne were struggling.

With the sun breaking through some of the clouds, today would be warmer than yesterday. By the afternoon, most of the snow would likely melt away. Days like that were usually colder than the weeks of snow that preceded them. The wetness seeped into clothes and chilled to the bone. With all the fields surrounding the hamlet, you hoped the ground would soak up the moisture quick. Either that or the four of you would be inside for the entire duration of your stay.

A while into the walk, Ominis finally took out his wand to lead the both of you toward a hay bale big enough to sit. A cart of chomping cabbages rolled by. You tried not to shiver, knowing very well how deadly those things could be. Assuming you were cold, Ominis trailed a hand down your arm to find your own placed in your lap. He encapsulated your hands in his and brought them to his lips, blowing hot air to heat them deliciously.

You had to mentally remind yourself to breathe, not wanting to get called out as you were in the library. His actions heated you up in more way than one. Your face felt overwhelmingly warm, as well as other regions of your body you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge just yet. But in truth, you greatly appreciated the notion to warm you. You hadn’t been able to find a scarf before running off to Feldcroft, probably due to your supply being mostly piled in Ominis’ dorm room.

“We should actually buy the bread and eggs for breakfast, but I must admit the point of this walk was to get you alone.” He still had your hands hostage, holding them near his chest. They stayed there a beat longer before he finally let you have your freedom, which used to be a sensation you craved before you grew used to Ominis’ affections.

“I’m sorry if coming here was not appropriate,” you spewed out. “I hadn’t read the letter in time, or else I would have met with you before.”

“After how foolishly I acted, I would have understood if you didn’t show at all. If my second letter made you worry about Anne, I’m terribly sorry. I did not mean for you to follow us here, but I am glad you did. Is that selfish of me?”

“If wanting me around is selfish, then I wish you would be selfish more often.”

“I’m selfish all the time.”

You took that as an invitation to move closer on the makeshift bench. Now with your hip and shoulder flush against his own, you were practically forced to entangle your overlapping arms. “Ominis, I should tell you. . This weekend I had not meant to ignore you.”

“It was well deserved and to be expected, only natural after how uneasy I made you feel. Just because you drew hearts around my name doesn’t mean you would want my. . . advances.” Ominis visibly cringed at his own terminology.

“I do,” you blurted. Merlin, with all the marriage references, you may as well get out your wand and make an Unbreakable Vow at this point.

Ominis tilted his head. “What?”

“Sorry, I meant to say that it’s okay. You were right in assuming I wanted. . that.”

The heavy feeling in the boy’s chest seemed to lighten. He sighed in relief. “Oh, I felt horrible thinking I had made you uncomfortable in any sort of way.”

“Nervous, but not uncomfortable.”

He lifted his wand to let the red light take in the quiet hamlet. You stiffened, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of your surroundings. Loyalists and Ashwinders were still a heavy threat, especially in Feldcroft. For a moment you had let your guard down, and now you felt terrible for not keeping watch.

Oddly, not a soul was in sight. Even the livestock that often wandered about was either off in the snowy fields or no doubt huddled up in a barn somewhere. The morning was young, you could tell from how loud the birds were chirping. Most residents were still hunkered down in their homes except for a dedicated merchant setting up their cart near the well in the center of town. They weren’t quite near enough for Ominis to pick up their sound, though, his hearing could be even better than you already assumed.

You tucked yourself close to his side to whisper, “Did you hear something?”

He shook his head no, lowering his wand. “I only wanted to make sure we were alone.” The tip of his nose had gone pink from the cold. His cheeks were rosy, too, from being out in the morning breeze.

“It’s just us,” you reassured softly. “There’s a merchant setting up in the center of town, but they-“ A hand obstructed your view. Ominis was tentatively reaching out. The light brush of his index finger against your jaw is what cut off your train of thought. The others landed on your pulse, his thumb finding your chin. It glided up, moving across your lips that were still slightly parted from the words that got left behind.

“Don’t move,” he didn’t really need to tell you. The shock of it all was enough to turn you into a statue.

Then he was leaning in. His movements were slow but deliberate. His thumb left your lips only to be replaced by his mouth ghosting over yours. That’s where he stopped. You thought he was second-guessing himself, but then you could ever so slightly feel him break into a smile.

“I didn’t mean for you to stop breathing,” he teased. “Take a breath.”

You did, a pathetically weak one that is. But as soon as you took in air, Ominis closed the distance. His lips, though soft and gentle, weren’t hesitant in any way. He still held the side of your face, guiding you to him.

Your eyes had closed on instinct, so you had become lost in the sensation of him against you. His hand was the only thing grounding you until you reached for his jacket and tugged him closer. Only then did he take advantage of your parted lips to deepen the kiss. He let his other hand explore the side of your body, finding your hip and then running up and down the side of your thigh. You couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

Then, all too quickly, his lips were pulling away. You followed, chasing his movements, needing more. The hand cradling your jaw held you in place, letting him put his forehead to yours and chuckle.

“You want more, but you stopped moving.”

Had you stopped? You didn’t mean to. “You distracted me.”

He hummed in approval and squeezed your thigh just above your knee. The sound of your breath hitching was all the confirmation he needed. “You really like that, don’t you?”

Your grip on his jacket was se desperate that your hands were starting to ache. “Ominis, please. .”

“Do you even know what you are asking for, my dear? I think I should take you on a proper date before doing any of that. And perhaps, not in the center of town. .”

You immediately tucked your face in the crook of his neck, far too embarrassed to face the world after that. “I’m sorry.” Your breath on his neck made him go stiff. A mischievous thought crossed your mind, and you were acting on it before you could talk yourself out of it. You brought your lips to his neck, just below his jaw. His hand instinctively tightened around your thigh as he let out a gentle gasp.

“Oh,” was all he could say, now deeply understanding the intensity you felt whenever he would touch you. At first, you peppered kisses along his skin, but when you came across his pulse your self-restraint floated away. Feeling how quick it gave you the confidence to open your mouth wider, sucking his pale skin until it went red and warm. Trickles of electricity ran down his spine. He wanted to chastise you for being so lude in public, but he couldn’t form words. His body felt limp, completely compliant to whatever you chose to do. Then his own tongue betrayed him, “Right there.”

Eager to please, you focused all your attention on that spot. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck and tugged slightly so that he’d grant you better access. Ominis didn’t give any resistance to your demand.

It was thrilling to know you could make him experience all the things he made you feel. You pushed his limits further by grazing your teeth against him. His hand shot up your thigh to your hip, the other landing on your other side. He pulled on you as if he wanted you closer, but any closer you’d be in his lap. Although that idea was beyond tempting, the sound of someone’s front door creaking open made you pull away from his neck.

The loss of contact made him frown. He quickly cupped your cheeks to pull you in for another kiss, but you put a hand against his chest, holding him at bay with a giggle.

“Later,” you promised, “-when we’re alone again.”

Ominis tilted his head in confusion. His eyes went wide when he heard the soft chatter of a neighboring couple exiting their home behind him. Quickly, he let you go and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t hear them come out.”

You left a brisk kiss on the little cluster of moles decorating his cheekbone before standing and tugging him along. “Come on. We still need to buy breakfast.”

By the time you made it back to the Sallow home, Sebastian was moaning about how starved he was. His eyes lit up when the door opened. Anne had told him the two of you had gone to collect bread and eggs. His excitement morphed into terror at the sight of his best friend in such disarray. In all the years he’s known Ominis, Sebastian had never seen his hair so wild.

“Are you okay? Were you attacked?” He squared Ominis’s shoulders and frowned at the red marks littering his neck. Anne giggling behind him made Sebastian piece together what he was seeing. His face twisted up in a look of disgust. “Oh, are you serious? In the middle of town?! Do I need to start escorting you two everywhere?”

“That’s hardly necessary,” you insisted at the same time Ominis admitted, “I don’t think that would stop her.”

“Give me that,” Sebastian growled as he took the basket of food from you. “Unbelievable, both of you. Go sit while I cook.”

“Let’s listen to Sebastian,” Ominis whispered with a smirk forming. Curious as to what he was planning, you let him guide you to the dining table. You’d expected him to pull out a chair for you, but he sat down first and then pulled you closer, patting his thigh. “Come on, he said to sit.”

Your heart was jumping haphazardly in your chest. You sat with your back pressed to his chest. His arms wasted no time snaking around your middle and pulling you close.

“Deplorable,” Sebastian muttered.

“No, it’s sweet. Quit acting like you’re so modest, and make my eggs,” Anne demanded. “I want my yolk runny.”

Sebastian sighed heavily, giving in, but only because his twin had ridiculed him. “Fine. And how would you like your eggs, Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt?”

“Whatever is easiest,” you offered.

“Preferably not poisoned,” Ominis suggested.

Y/N,

Feldcroft has been absolute mayhem while you've been away. I know this work trip is necessary, but I've never been shy to admit how selfish I am when it comes to you. If you are able to sneak away a few days early, let's not tell a soul. You can hide away in the house, and I could have you to myself just until others are expecting your return.

Speaking of others, I must warn you that your primroses have been trampled by Sebastian's son. I assume I don't even have to name which one was the culprit, but he has promised to help you replant them on your return. Sebastian would have done it with him, but somehow our dear friend managed to learn absolutely nothing during seven years of Herbology despite having such a watchful eye on our professor during classes. Perhaps you can bestow a bit of gardening knowledge on all his children that way they have hobbies that don't involve destroying our home when they visit.

Until then, I will miss the smell of the flowers almost as much as I miss you.

Your Husband,

Ominis

p.s. Please do consider my request that you return early. If not for me, then for the well-being of our home.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy #my writings

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slytherizz · 5 months

Text

In The Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

a/n Scene from Chapter 11 of 'ItSoU' commissioned from the incredibly talented @diligentcranberry as a Christmas present to myself - It's so pretty I still cannot stop staring at my traumatised darlings. I never really shared much of my long fics on Tumblr besides the first chapters so here's some smut.

You can read the complete fic on Ao3.

Chapter 11 under the cut...

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted besides a small grey cat that scurried along the chimney stacks. Perhaps the return of Ashwinders to the area had scared most reasonable people to their beds. But neither she nor Sebastian had ever been reasonable people and they stood oddly calm in the night air outside the familiar tavern she'd apparated them to.

“I don’t want to go back to Poppy’s - too dangerous. Harlow may be bold but even he’d think twice before darkening Sirona’s door,” she said with a tight smile. Sebastian recalled that first trip to Hogsmead and was pleased to know some things hadn't changed.

She pushed through the heavy doors of the ancient pub. It was quiet. Where one would usually find patrons huddled in corners, playing cards over stiff drinks there were empty chairs. Where you'd see student that had sneaked out of the castle to drink and sing crude songs of their rival Quidditch teams until Sirona would shoo them out in the wee hours of the morning, there was silence. There would be no stumbling drunken feet of friends and young lovers up the long path to the castle castle tonight.

“Sirona?” she called and her voice echoed through the emptiness. The older witch appeared from behind the bar, her wand in hand as if she expected trouble to come knocking more than revelers these days.

“Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while. Hello, love-” her eyes landed on Sebastian with a look of surprise, but her eyes softened as she took him in.

“Hello son, you look like you could use a drink,” she smiled. Sirona looked older, her hair peppered with grey around her temples the creases around her eyes more defined but her manner was familiar and Sebastian felt the tension leave his shoulders.

Sirona like any good innkeeper, had that innate ability to sense your needs before you had a chance to voice them. With a flick of her wand two glasses of firewhiskey settled on the bar in front of her. Sebastian took a seat on the high stool and took a deep gulp from the glass relishing the burn as the amber liquid slipped down his throat.

The witch slid into the space seat beside him and took a tentative sip from her own glass with a wince. She never had been able to handle her drink and he laughed slightly at her sour expression.

"It's good to see you, Sirona," Sebastian said honestly. Sirona had always been kind to him. An aunt like figure to Sebastian and a shoulder to lean on more times than he’d care to remember. She'd seen him grow from a mischievous boy into a troubled young man, but unlike other she had never drawn back from Sebastian. Much like the pub itself Sirona was a constant pillar of support, always open when someone needed it most.

Sirona poured herself her own glass, and topped up Sebastian's. She leaned back on against the counter on the opposite side of the bar her eye flicked between the two of them.

"I won't ask exactly what event have led to you both being here tonight," she gestured between them amused "I know you can't tell me about your work dear, as much as I'd love to know the details - my guess it has something to do with Harlow."

"You're too perceptive for your own good, Sirona," the auror chuckled. "I promise, you'll be the first to know when this is all over."

"I hope so. Business has been dreadful, the inn is doing well but my bar sales..." she grimaced "Hogwarts is practically under lock down and even I'm beginning to miss the Gryffindor Quidditch team's terrible singing."

"No one wants to be on the streets these days so most of my rooms are full. Unfortunatly, you'll have to share." The witch sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at Sebastian nervously through her lashes. It wasn't like they had never slept together before. They had infact done a lot more together than sleep, it was almost amusing how this woman who had fought fully grown trolls at the tender age of fifteen, who had spent the last five years fighting dark wizards; yet Sebastian made her nervous and he luxuriated in the knowlege. He shrugged at her, as he schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Sirona's eyes flicked between them.

The witch beside him stretched her arms as she yawned and wrinkled her nose at the dirt crusted under her fingernails.

“It’s the usual place in the attic, dear. The bathrooms just down the hall,” Sirona smiled warmly at her. The witch finished the last dregs from the bottom of her glass, stifled a cough on her sleeve from the burn and slid off the stool to make her way upstairs.

Sebastian tracked her movements across the bar before she slipped up the stairs. A knowing smiled tugged at the corner of Sirona’s mouth, her eyebrows quirked and he drowned the lump that formed in his throat with a deep swig from his glass.

“I must admit despite the circumstances - it's nice to see you both together again. You two were inseparable as teenagers and both so serious too. I guess with hindsight, I know why…" a sad smile deepened the creases around her eyes.

"We bring out the worst in each other," he sighed with a shake of his head.

"I'm not so sure. Unfortunately, I think you both would be who you are no matter what. You both had to grow up far too fast, but I think you understand each other in a way others can't."

“Maybe we didn’t understand each other as well as you thought,” he grumbled. If she truly understood Sebastian wouldn't she have stood by his side after everything that happened but her words still rung in his mind -

I would care.

Sirona fixed him with an assessing eye, as if she was peeling him back. As if she could sense every hateful, lusty and confusing thought he’d had of the witch upstairs. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and she softened.

"Not everyone gets a second chance at happiness, Sebastian. Don't waste yours."

Sirona said it like it was so simple. Like he could erase the last five years if he let himself. Coming from anyone else he would have hexed them. Sirona she met the world through the doors of this old pub, listened to everything from the lamenting of love sick teenager and world weary travelers who'd seen the darkest crevices of this world. He didn't know where his own problems fit in to that scale but he rolled it over in his mind.

A second chance. The words soothed his soul.

***

The summer at Poppy’s had done him good. Sebastian stared at his face no longer gaunt and hollow through the steamed up mirror of the small bathroom in the Three Broomsticks. If it wasn’t for the tattoos that covered his torso and crept up his neck he would barely think he’d been in Azkaban at all.

His clothes no longer hung off of him as he’d regained the strength and despite the nightmares that still haunted him nightly his eyes were no longer framed by dark bruises. The constellations of freckles that peppered his face and shoulder had returned in earnest, dark across his nose and cheeks. He adjusted his towel around his neck to cover the tattoo on his chest and placed his hand over the one on his neck.

This is who he would have been, if he’d never been to Azkaban.

He muttered a scourgify on his trousers before he pulled them on. Spells never made his clothes fully clean and not wanting to dirty himself further he left his dusty shirt in a the wicker laundry basket. Sebastian padded across the hall and hesitated in front of the door. He couldn't hear anything from beyond the door.

With a long exhale he stilled his breath and rapped once on the door to announce his entrance.

She leaned against the windowsill her arms crossed over her thin nightdress. Her hair was loose from its braids and it fluttered in the warm summer breeze from the window. She watched the streets with a feline stillness, like an assassin on the roof alert and vigilant. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own as the door creaked, announcing his arrival.

He clicked the door behind him but he could feel her eyes on him. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her a small smile tugged at his lips at the way her eyes roamed over the bare expanse of his chest. The room seemed stiflingly small, the low vaulted ceiling left little space for more than the bed and a small nightstand. She was propped up on the windowsill, Sebastian leaned beside her and felt the warm air lick over his skin.

She swallowed audibly and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He see her from the corner of his eyes scan the bare expanse of his skin.

"What do they mean?"

"You're an auror, I thought they would teach you this kind of thing?" Sebastian frowned.

"No."

Sebastian moved in front of her her and caught her hand in his, admiring the way her chest swelled as she held in a tight breath. He brought her fingers to press into neck, his skin tingled under the featherlight touch.

“This is me. Prisoner identification number,” he supplied, as he turned so her fingers could glide down his spine "These mark each unforgivable curse, they found when the Wizengamot surveyed my wand."

Her nimble fingers traced each ugly black stain on his skin in turn.

Crucio. Imperio. Avada Kadavra.

She lingered over each one, as if they were familiar like she knew they should decorate her own skin.

Sebastian turned slowly back to face her and took her hand in his once again. Finally, he pressed her palm flat over the one on his chest. Directly over his heart. He knew she could feel how hard it pounded in his chest. Sebastian's face so close to hers, he could feel her stuttered breaths against his freckled cheeks.

"This is my sentence. Life In Azkaban." She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

Sebastian didn’t want to explain the one on his wrist. The one he scratched at more fervently than the others. A particularly cruel form of punishment designed especially for him. When they peered into my mind, saw what tortured him most; It was always her. They’d inked her name in their ancient texts.

They stared into each other for what felt like an eternity. He waited for her to pull back, to recoil from him. Waited for his own body to do the same; to remember every aching moment of the past five years. But with her hand still pressed against his skin, her eyes boring into his own every rational thought burned away.

Sebastian wanted to be the version of him that stared back at him from the mirror. The one that did not bear the weight of the last five years.

He let his lips ghost across hers.

Sebastian wondered if this was some new form of torture and this was some feverish fantasy of a man slowly dying in Azkaban. Or if they'd chained him to her on purpose, the only one who made him feel blood boiling hatred and blinding desire. A kaleidoscope of feelings, brutal, dirty and wonderful. To make him lose every rational thought in his body as her mere existence overwhelmed him before they ripped it away.

She whimpered into the hairbreadth distance between his lips and hers. A pleasureful little sound that made some primal part of Sebastian practically purr with need. With one hand still pressed to his chest her other to wrapped around his neck to roughly pull his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.

Sebastian’s hands fisted into her hair, drawing her into him. The taste of her, the feel of her pressed against him made him feel like the world tipped on its axis. He nipped needily at her bottom lip and she gasped, granting him access to flick his tongue between her now parted lips.

She kissed him back feverishly, her own tongue collided with his own. He knew no one had touched her like this and it was like they’d both been starving. Her lips hungry against his own.

But he needed more.

In his desperation to feel as much of her as he could, hold her to him so she couldn't be stolen from his grasp Sebastian maneuverer her back until she collided with the wall. He pressed the entirety of himself against her, shamelessly dragging his hands along her curves.

He knew he was being rougher than he’d ever been as his hands groped every inch of her. But he was a man starved of touch for so long and he clung to her as if his very life depended on it. She seemed to crave that hardness as much as he did, as she ground her core against him where his leg had nestled between her thighs. Her fingers clung to his shoulders; her nails decorated half-moons amongst the splattered freckles. He hissed with delight at the pleasureful pain, as it broke through the numbness he’d felt for so long.

He grasped her chin to access her neck, to trail fire down her skin as he nipped at her thundering pulse. His teeth grazing every inch of her throat.

Sebastian snaked down the dips of her curves, to pinch and knead at her sides through the fabric as he worked his way to the hem of her nightdress. He slipped under her skirt to squeeze her backside and he savoured the vibrations in her throat against his lips from the groan that escaped her lips.

With how soft her skin was against his calloused hands he wanted – no needed to feel more of it.

She groaned in protest at the loss of his lips as he pulled the offending garment over her head. As if to stop their passions for even for a second would stifle the flames.

Sebastian stopped his assault on her skin to drink her in. His hands swept over the curves, fuller than he remembered, over the puckered skin of faded battle scars. In the soft lamp light, her hair unbound and wild, her lips swollen and her chest heaving she looked fucking exquisite.

She pulled him back into her roughly, her teeth knocked against his as her tongue delved into his mouth once more. Her fingers entwined in his chestnut hair, he shuddered as her nails scratched against his scalp. Sebastian hands resumed their assault, exploring ever dip and curve of her exposed flesh he’d devoured with his eyes. Intoxicated by the way her nipples pebbled as he grasped her breasts in his calloused hands. He captured the needy mewls that escaped her as he rolled them between his fingertips.

Sebastian trailed his hand between the peaks and down her stomach. His fingers grazed the sensitive spot between her thighs through the lace of her knickers. He chuckled against her lips as he slid his hand beneath the already damp material. Her folds were already slick and needy. Her lips didn’t say it, but her wetness told him she craved him as much as he did her. He stroked tantalising circles the small bundle of nerves, savouring every moan and whimper against his lips. He could feel her heart hammer in her chest. She ground her hips against his fingers as her eyes fluttered closed as a waves of pleasure crashed over her.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Her eyes snapped open to meet his own, she looked at him through hooded eyes “I want you to know it’s me - Who does this to you. Makes you feel like this.”

Her lips were parted as if she was going to respond but any words died on her lips as he slid a finger inside of her. Sebastian crooked his finger to find that spot inside of her that made her knees buckle. Her head lolled back against the wall with a throaty cry, barely held up by her weaked legs but her eyes never left his. He nipped at her throat approvingly.

Sebastian was achingly hard and strained against his trousers. He relished the friction of where his cock was rutted against her thigh. The scent of her own arousal coupled with the feel of his own was a heady concoction. He wanted to feel her climax under the entirety of him not just his fingers.

He withdrew sharply from her; a groan escaped her at the loss but Sebastian was quick. He unbuckled his belt and tore the leather from around his hips. His hands groped her perfect backside, as he lifted her up. She yelped in surprise, but her thighs instinctively squeezed round his middle. She kissed across his freckled face, and nipped at his earlobe as he carried her.

Sebastian flung her onto the mattress and it creaked under her weight. He shoved off his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. His hard cock arching proudly, relieved to finally be released from the confines of his trousers. He prowled up the bed towards her and she lifted her hips so he could peel her knickers down her legs.

He ran his hands along her shapely calves and trailed his mouth along her stomach. He took her nipple in his mouth; he flicked his tongue over the bud whilst his hand re-found the bundle of nerves at her core. He circled it twice before teased two fingers into her entrance, she groaned and rutted her hips shamelessly against his fingers. She wanted him, her kiss swollen lips wouldn’t say it, but her body couldn’t lie.

She clasped at his freckled cheeks and pulled his lips to hers again. He growled with satisfaction as moved her legs apart expectantly. Caged under the full weight of him she wanted to feel all of him, between her legs.

Sebastian aligned himself with her entrance and paused to savour the lusty look in her eyes. Sprawled out below him, bare and wild like a nymph from some Greek tragedy that would surely be his undoing. They would be each others undoing.

She wouldn’t say it, but he knew he needed to hear it from her swollen lips.

“Beg me for it,” he growled low in her ear, his nose burrowed into her tangled hair.

“W-What?” she stammered. Her pupils were blown wide, and he savoured the mix of confusion and lust that swam in her eyes. He knew she wanted him. He could feel it between her thighs. But he wanted her to proclaim it, to know he wasn’t mad to think this was something she didn't just want but needed; just desperately as he did.

“I said - Beg. Me.”

“Please-” she murmured as her hips inched towards him.

“You can do better than that,” he purred, as he teased his hardened length across her folds once more making her groan.

They both knew this was insane. But if he was going to succumb to complete blinding madness, throw all rationale away; then she was coming down with him.

“I want you- I need you inside me. Sebastian, please,” her fingers scratched across his freckled shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him inside of her.

Sebastian practically purred with delight to hear her beg for the man she’d condemned. Satisfied he sheathed the entirety of himself inside of her with one strong thrust. Her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered as she arched her back as he filled her. The feel of her pulsing heat around him almost sent him immediately over the edge. He released a groan of his own, low, and deep.

This was not the tender explorative touches of teenagers it had once been.

With every deliberate thrust into her, he drew incomprehensible moans and pleas to deities from her lips. Her hips bucked to meet each stroke as she writhed under him. Her calloused fingers mapped his skin, over each tattoo along his spine. Each one a mark of the sordid past they shared. She traced every freckle in every impossible spot no one had seen but her. The sensation of each featherlight touch and rough scratch sent shivers cascading through him.

Sebastian’s mouth fixed on her neck, leaving red welts where he sucked at the skin like he could replicate the branding of her that marked his own skin. To claim what had always been his.

As he ground his hips against her and she arched her back in approval, Sebastian wrapped his arm through the vacant space below her. He hauled her up to leave more bites along her chest. His other hand fisted possessively into her hair as if he despite the impossibility he could be closer to her. Each frantic thrust brought incoherent curses and praise from her lips. He felt dizzy with how her hips jerked demanding as much of him as she could, with how perfectly he fit inside her even after all this time.

Her nimble fingers pushed his still wet hair from where it had dropped into his eyes. She pressed her lips to his to absorb the curses and moans he hadn’t even realised were spilling out of his own mouth.

Sebastian caught her trembling leg behind her knee in a bruising grip to hitch it up. To roughly plunge himself deeper inside of her, she released a strangled cry of approval. Her legs were strong from years of fighting, but he admired the valleys and dips he created in the soft skin of her thighs with his fingers. Her breathing hitched becoming more frantic as the angle pushed her to new heights of bliss. Every rasped moan spurred the motion of his hips as he eagerly chased the sounds only he could draw from her.

He could feel her body begin to tighten and pulse around him in a way that was maddening. Sebastian was desperate to feel her peak, but his body had a mind of its own as he thrust into her desperately, he knew his own release build deep in his gut. The last coherent part of his brain not overtaken by an animalistic need guided his hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. The overwhelming sensation of his cock and his fingers had her keening and stuttering as she began to crest her peak.

“Say my name,” his voice no more than growl, as he struggled to hold back his own release.

Amongst the other senseless words that escaped her she cried his name. Loud and desperate from her swollen lips; an intoxicating sirens call, he would follow willingly to a watery grave. She hauled him down to bring his full weight on top of her as she climaxed. The way she said his name, even when she was near delirious, practically vibrating as she rode her orgasm.

To know he was the one who made he feel like this. The only one who could make her skin feel like it was on fire. The only mans name she’d ever cried when her earth shattered.

He slammed into her hard and fast prolonging that feeling of ecstasy for as long as long as his own frenzy would allow. But the feeling of her trembling release, and the continued raspy gasps of his name made his hips faulter. His teeth bit into her shoulder to muffle her own name that slipped from his lips in a guttural moan as he released inside her.

Sebastian’s chest heaved as his heart rattled against his ribcage, as he came down from his own earth-shattering bliss. They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, still inside her to the hilt. Every inch of his skin where they were connected felt like it was on fire.

He didn’t kiss her again.

Sebastian rolled off of her, and she whimpered slightly at the loss of him inside her. They lay there together, sheets tangled around their limbs their minds fogged from their shared ecstasy.

Her mallowsweet scent was on the sheets, on his skin; it soaked into Sebastian’s mind. It silenced intrusive questions that simmered in his mind about what they’d just done. He knew they would come; he’d have to face them eventually but for now he wanted to pretend things were different.

So, for the first time in years - Sebastian slept and didn’t dream.

***

Sebastian woke as the dawn light streamed through the curtains. Golden hues illuminated the witch still curled beside him. The sheets tangled around her doing little to hide the curve of her hips, her hair fanned out around her like a halo.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His brain felt loud as too many questions bubbled to the surface and made his head spin.

She stirred slightly when the mattress dipped as he climbed out of bed, but she buried her head back into the pillow. Sebastian released a relieved breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He needed to clear his head before he was ready to face her. He pulled on spare clothes from the nightstand Sirona had left out for him and slipped out the door.

It was the crack of dawn and Hogsmead was still very much asleep. He walked the empty cobble streets and tried to make sense of the complicated cocktail of emotions that bubbled in his chest. Sebastian seemed to be existing in a plane somewhere between self-loathing and infuriating yearning.

Sebastian didn’t know what this meant for him, let alone for her. For them.

Could a version of them even exist anymore? Sebastian wondered if he even wanted it to. As much as he wanted to pretend the past five years hadn't happened they had and like a self fulfilling prophecy she had gotten under his skin, clouded all rational thoughts and distracted him from his mission once more.

He’d began his slow plod back to the Three Broomsticks, resigned to the fact that he must face her eventually. He hadn't quite decided whether he wanted to pretend it had never happened or make her scream his name a hundred more times when a figure stepped into his path.

Sebastian froze, his hand instinctively reached for his wand. He cursed himself for being so wrapped up in thoughts of her that he’d left it in his old clothes. He squared his shoulders and met the amused stare of the stocky man in front of him.

“No need for dramatics, Sallow. I’m not here to hurt you,” chuckled Harlow. Sebastian should be shocked a wanted man like Harlow would appear so brazenly in the streets of Hogsmead. Maybe his own actions had last night had tapped him out and nothing could suprise him more than himself.

Much like Sebastian, months on the outside had brought a fullness back to Harlow’s face. Although no longer hollow cheeked his fine clothes did little to hide the ancient letters branded across his neck. But perhaps Harlow wasn’t trying to hide them, didn’t feel them burn into his skin as Sebastian did.

“Some how I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian ground out through clenched teeth. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that the auror would probably have to scrape what was left of Sebastian off the cobbled streets he would have launched himself at Harlow and tried to rip him apart with his bare hands.

“Come on now mate, we’re friends, aren’t we? Besides - I owe you, Sallow. With all our little chats, you’re the one who gave me my grand idea,” Harlow said with palms to the sky. His open face and arms mimicked the posture of a pious man of the cloth so at odds with the man Sebastian knew him to be.

Sebastian’s felt the bile rise in his throat. What idea had he given him?

“I was thinking too small. Blackmail, bribery - why do all of that when I could be Minister of Magic? Wielder of dark ancient powers. Get revenge on the girl who locked us both away. Who could stand in my way? You understand don’t you, what it’s like to have that kind of power at your fingertips. What it would feel like to make them pay. Clever I admit, earning her trust before stabbing her in the back,” Harlow cast a wry eye over the collection of bruises that had formed below Sebastian’s jaw, and he chuckled. “She is a pretty little thing I admit. Don’t blame you for wanting to fuck her first.”

“You can’t get to the repositories. The goblins tried, it’s pointless-” Sebastian began.

“I don’t need those repositories; I already have enough from what the goblins took to fix this,” his yellowed teeth broke into a wide smile, as he presented the pieces of the broken relic from the catacomb. That’s what Bettie had been desperately clutching to her chest “Then I can take her power for myself.”

The relic.

The one that could control the dead, dark magic and grant you any impossible desire if you paid it in blood. A man like Harlow would not be far pressed to provide it with a dark sacrifice it demanded.

Sebastian felt a blood grow cold in his veins. Sebastian had spilled his secrets to the man beyond the wall and now they were all going to pay for it.

“I’ll see you round mate. Give her one for me will you,” Harlow winked. He whistled as he strode off through the vacant streets leaving Sebastian alone.

***

Sebastian stumbled back to the pub in a daze. His mind raced so fast he felt like it couldn’t remember how to breath and choked the air out of his lungs. Sebastian pushed into the attic room, desperate to feel his wand between his fingers, find the safety in his own magic.

The witch lifted her head woken from her slumber by his heavy footsteps. She greeted him with a sleepy smile.

No soft smiles could shake the panic from Sebastian’s bones. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff and his knuckles white where the ligaments in his hand strained against the door handle.

How can he tell her he’s the reason Harlow was after her ancient power. That he, however unwillingly, had given the man who’d designed his sisters pain all the tools he needed to spread it like a unstoppable poison.

This was his fault. He wondered if the world had always been right and Sebastian Sallow truly was cursed.

She looked wounded at the frown that twisted his face and she drew the sheets tighter around herself protectively. Sebastian knows what this must look like. Like he must regret their night together. That last night was just one moment of madness.

She’ll think last night was a mistake eventually so why not cut to the chase. Save himself the pain of thinking he could be anything but cursed.

#I actually want to bite him #he's so pretty and beefy #i subscribe to big Seb supremacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow art #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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matchavellichor · 11 months

Note

Can I request a Seb x f!Reader where either MC is super tired or Seb is super tired and the other helps them relax. Like by running a hot bath, then giving a really sensual massage? It doesn’t have to become NSFW or it can. Completely up to you! But I just cannot get the idea out of my head!

You’re writing is to die for btw!

A/N: I loved this idea sm!! I hope I did it justice and that you enjoy!

Long Night

Sebastian x f!MC - NSFW/Fluff - 3.6k words - ao3

Tags: Pre-Established Relationship, Protective Seb, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Care/Comfort

Summary: Sebastian helps you wind down after a long night.

It was half past two in the morning when you finally staggered your way back to Hogwarts, having spent the better part of your evening decimating Ashwinder camps around the outskirts of Hogsmeade. As you slip through the common room door, Sebastian rouses from the wingback chair he had fallen asleep on while waiting up for you.

“Please, no lecture tonight,” You intercept as soon as you spot him, raising a hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. “I’m far too exhausted for this.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but disgruntledly closes it at the sight of your half-lidded eyes, the weary slouch of your shoulders.

He brings a hand up to thumb at the smear of ash on your chin, a faint look of understanding. “I’ll save the scolding for tomorrow. You look like you’ve been roughed up enough for one night.”

You give him a satisfied smile as you sink back against one of the plush couches. “You think I’m roughed up? Should’ve—” You wince at the contact of the cushions with the abrasions and cuts under your clothes. “Seen the other guy.”

He looks unconvinced. “Yeah, yeah,” He outstretches a hand in front of you, rubbing the sleep from his own eyes with the back of his knuckles. “Come on, up.”

“Do I have to?” You close your eyes, tilting your head back onto the backrest of the couch.

“Yes . You’re a mess,” He tugs you to your feet despite your groans, interlacing his fingers with yours. “You’re taking a bath then I’m putting you in a bed. No more passing out on the common room couch.”

“Yes, mum.” You quip, your muscles too sore to physically protest, but not compliant enough to go without a fair amount of whinging.

He locks the door behind him as soon as he gets you inside the Prefect’s Lavatory, flicking the lights on with a swish of a wand. A set of firm hands on your waist lifts you up on the counter so he can better tend to you. You grimace from the press of his fingers against your injuries and concern washes over his expression.

“May I see?” He asks, fingers paused on the laces of your bodice. You nod.

He unties the latticework of laces with a deftness that only comes from practice, beginning on the buttons of your blouse next. He slips the garment off your shoulders with a tenderness that contrasts so starkly to the usual hasty manner he tears it off you in isolated alcoves in the Restricted Section, or under the drawn curtains of four-poster beds.

“Lift your arms, love.”

He pulls the chemise over your head, yet doesn’t linger too long on the sight of your bare chest when he notices the purple contuses scattered over your ribs. He frowns in disapproval, tsks as his fingers trace the bruises with feather-light touches. His gaze snaps back up to meet yours.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “Would you believe me if I told you I tripped on my way to Charms?”

He looks entirely unamused.

“Worth a shot.”

“Merlin’s sake, the things you get up to...” He parts to rummage through a first-aid kit that he pulled from one of the cabinets, a frustration in his movements. He’s upset, but not at you. “It’s a miracle you’ve never gotten detention. Or honestly right out expelled. You’ve broken so many Hogwarts ordinances I’m surprised you’re still—”

“Since when did you start caring about the rules?”

He sighs as he pauses in front of you with a tin of dittany salve in hand. “Since I started caring about you.”

You roll your eyes, even though his words make you feel warm and you have to bite back a smile at the preposterous idea of Sebastian Sallow caring about someone other than himself. If someone had told you this a few months ago you would’ve fell into laughing hysterics.

“What was it this time?” He pops open the lid of the balm and begins to rub a generous amount on your bruises, careful not to apply too much pressure.

“A pack of angry Mooncalves. Vicious beasts, really.”

He scoffs. “Oh, terrifying.”

You nod solemnly. “My life flashed before my eyes.”

He rolls his eyes, once again intensely unamused. He finishes smearing the last of the paste over your sores, tucking the salve away in its kit.

“So do I get to know what creature has actually battered up my girlfriend?”

“I am not battered.” You protest. “It was just a few Ashwinder camps. No big deal. I handled it.”

“A few,” He mutters to himself in disbelief, shaking his head as he closes up the healing kit and slides it back into the cabinet. He turns back to you and you can’t help but find his face of disapproval devastatingly adorable, feeling a bit inclined to defy him more often.

He takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head for him to study. His eyebrows knit together as he eyes the cut just under your cheekbone, concern etched into his expression. “Yeah, I can see how well you handled it.”

“Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying.”

“Yes, you are, I can see it on your face.” You tilt your head, amused. “You kind of look like Ominis.”

“You wound me.” He drops your chin.

He turns to open the faucets in the bathtub and you watch as he holds a hand under the water to make sure the temperature is just right, runs his fingers through the lavender-scented suds beginning to form on the surface.

You hook your fingers into the belt loops of his trousers to pull him closer when he finally makes his way back over to you, spreading your legs to situate him in the space just between your thighs.

“I’m fine, alright?” You trail your hands over his chest demonstratively. “Got all four limbs. I’d call that a major success in my books.”

“Your definition of success genuinely perturbs me.”

He braces himself against the ledge of the counter when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him lazily.

His mouth is warm and sweet, the taste of mint on his tongue where it meets yours.

He indulges you for a moment, a hand coming up to hold your jaw. A thumb brushing against your cheek, lips moving against yours with a syrupy kind of softness that makes your toes curl. He holds his other hand to the small of your back, fingers spreading warm and broad over your bare skin. Tender. Careful.

You want to just melt into him, your muscles loose and jelly-like from exhaustion. You groan, pettish and frustrated, when he finally pulls away. He smiles.

“Stop trying to seduce me and get in the bathtub.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you,” You scoff, your legs wrapping around the backs of his calves to keep him close to you, feeling the stiffness pressed hot against your stomach. You smile

back. “I’ve clearly already done so.”

“I have a gorgeous, half-naked witch kissing me, you can’t expect me to maintain total composure.” He steps away from you and holds out a hand for you to take. “Now get in the tub before you whittle away the little moral principle I still do possess.”

“Oh, stop it,” You jeer as you let him help you down from the counter. “Corroding each other’s moral compasses is our favorite pastime and you know it.”

“The only pastime I’m interested in right now is getting you clean and in bed.”

“Such a bore.”

“You are such a brat.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

He slips off the rest of your clothes with gentle fingers, mindful of every bruise and abrasion as if he’s already memorized their locations. You sigh contentedly when you finally sink into the warm water, your head falling back against the porcelain. He kneels down beside you, brushing back the hair from your cheeks and forehead.

“Feel nice?

Your answer is a murmured mnhgmm. He chuckles and casts a stasis charm to keep the water at that temperature. He watches you for a moment, fingers dipping under the water to rub soft little circles over your arm.

He slips a hand under the nape of your neck. “Tilt your head back, darling.”

You oblige even though your muscles feel too limp to move, letting him run his fingers through your hair and dampen it in the water.

He works in some sickly floral-scented shampoo, the kind that you find far too sweet for your own preferences but that you know he absolutely adores smelling on you. You can’t find it in you to protest because the feeling of his firm hands massaging your scalp makes you too lax to form any coherent thoughts.

“Fuck.” You mutter when he kneads at a particularly sensitive spot at the nape of your neck. “I’m going to marry you.”

He breathes out a laugh, focusing on that spot until you’re practically melting into his palm, shoulders sinking further into the water. “That easy?”

“I’m a simple woman.”

“You’re very much not.”

“You like it.”

He smiles fondly. “I do.”

He takes advantage of your drowsy state to lean over the rim of the tub and steal as many kisses as he wants, tilts your chin up with a wet hand to give himself better access to your lips. He moves you around like a ragdoll, placing kisses down your wrists, on your knuckles, while he runs a loofah up and down your arms.

“You look pretty like this.”

“What? Covered in the blood of half a dozen different poachers? You’re sounding like Poppy.”

You chance a look at him through one half-opened eye. He’s watching you intently, arms crossed over the side of the porcelain basin, sleeves rolled to his elbows.

“While admittedly strangely erotic ,” He confesses, rubs at a lingering speck of scarlet on your neck. “I meant...all sapless and drowsy. It’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

When he’s finally content that he’s gotten every ounce of blood and soot from your body, he helps you out of the water with one of your arms slung around his shoulder, wrapping you in a towel that’s big enough for you to drown in.

Sufficiently dried and smelling like a floral abomination, he takes you back to your room and lets you sink back against the pillows while he rummages through your chest for pajamas.

He manages to procure the tiniest set you owned, a sleek negligée with a babydoll neckline and a ditsy floral pattern all over, little pink roses with green stems adorning the fabric. It’s ridiculously short and leaves absurdly little to the imagination.

He holds it out to you curiously, dangled precariously over his finger by one of the thin straps. “How come I’ve never seen you in this?”

“Because that thing can barely be considered clothing.”

He helps you sit up on the edge of the bed. “You’re not doing a very good job of selling me off it.”

“I’ll indulge you in your utterly impractical sleepwear choices just this once.”

He slips the gown over your head, smoothing down the fabric at your waist. His hand stretches broad and warm where he’s settled it over your hip. When he pulls away to tuck the matching frilly floral undergarments back into your chest, you raise an eyebrow.

“Am I not allowed any knickers?”

“Nope,” He pushes you back against the bed and you sink into the covers. “Doctor’s orders.”

You shift onto your stomach, hitching a leg over one of your pillows tucked between your thighs as you get comfortable. You murmur through a yawn, “I’d like to see this guy’s medical license.”

Sebastian eyes the way your dress rides up over your bottom, the silk bunching up at your cinched waist. If he were a weaker man, he’d be tugging the flimsy fabric the rest of the way up over your hips and fucking you into the mattress until you were truly sore and exhausted.

However, he has principles. Sort of.

He kneels beside you at the edge of your bed and tugs the hem down before you can properly give him a heart attack. You’re blissfully unaware of any unintentional indecencies.

He lets his hand linger a little too long, running down your sides and reveling in how warm and pliable you feel under his touch.

“You’re a little tense,” He remarks, even though you’re certainly anything but tense. You currently feel like you’ve dissolved into a puddle of warm sensations and you’re surprised you haven’t seeped into the mattress by now.

His hands are kneading at your back before you can form even a semblance of a protest though, and you soon forget why you would ever want to.

He smooths his fingers over the silk, feels your warmth seeping through the fabric and it’s enough to make him lose his mind. Before long he’s slipping his hands under the hem of your dress, chasing the feeling of skin-on-skin.

He massages the space between your shoulder blades, down your spine, over your sides, smiling to himself at the little satisfied sighs you let out from the sensation.

“Fucking hell,” You moan when he presses his knuckles into a particularly knotted spot at the small of your back. “I think I’m in love with you.”

He spews out a laugh, sounding utterly delighted with this information. “And all it took was a measly little massage for you to come to this realization?”

“Among other things...” You murmur contentedly into the pillow.

“Give me a comprehensive list when you get a chance,” He leans over you to place a kiss to your shoulder, runs his hands south to knead at the soft flesh at your hips. “I need to know what I’ve been doing right.”

“Well, first on the list, —whatever magic you’re doing with your hands right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Next up…mmhm, that one thing you do with your tongue.”

You pause, thighs squeezing together at the memory of the many times his head has been between your thighs. “Actually, that might be number one.”

“Might be?” He scoffs. “Well clearly I haven’t been doing it nearly as good as I should have. Simply unacceptable.” He enunciates his indignation by flipping you onto your back, amusing himself with the drowsy giggle you let out.

He kisses you slow and languid, cupping your jaw in his hand and rubbing your cheek with his thumb as if in appreciation for getting to touch something so precious. He peppers kisses down your neck, inhaling deeply, “Gods, you smell amazing.”

“I smell ridiculous.”

He licks a stripe down your throat in exemplary approval. “Ridiculously delicious. It's absurd, really.”

He dips his head to trail kisses over your collarbone, down your sternum, around your navel, over your hip bones. His hands bunch up the fabric of your dress, tugs it over your waist and gropes tenderly at the expanse of exposed skin.

He takes his time, as if he’s at an altar in solemn devotion. You let out soft, drowsy sighs as he drags his tongue down your midriff, across your hip, as if he needs to taste every part of you.

He looks up at you when he finally dips his head between your thighs, clearly satisfied with the way your head is sunken back against the pillow and your hands have balled up the comforter in little fists, consumed by anticipation.

He hooks an arm under one of your thighs and pulls it over his shoulder, keeping the other pinned to the mattress. He revels in how pliable you are, a weak, loose-limbed little mess spread out before him, barely even able to keep your own eyes open. He can’t help but watch you, truly study you in the state you’re in.

You huff after a full minute of him hovering over your center, his warm breath lighting your nerves on fire. “I thought I was supposed to be going to bed?”

“I’m just helping you wind down,” He murmurs and places a kiss to your mound just to appease your impatient whines. Your stomach swirls at the long-awaited contact and the mewl you let out would’ve been mortifying if Sebastian’s returning groan wasn’t just as needy .

He licks a single broad stroke through your folds with the flat of his tongue and you can feel his smirk against your skin when your hips squirm from the contact.

“Look at you,” He coos, taunting, rubbing your slickness in with the pad of a finger. “You’re clearly too worked up to sleep at the moment.”

You’re too drained to argue for your obvious lack of energy and Sebastian’s ministrations certainly aren’t helping.

You’re half-asleep, half-kept-awake by the soft kitten licks he devotes to your cunt, slow and measured, the same way one would lap at an ice-cream cone they really, really wanted to savor. Patience was never a virtue Sebastian possessed, yet he was managing to exude it with every brush of his tongue, infuriatingly calm and stoical.

“Oh, god—” Your gasp is strangled when he finally wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. He does it knowing full well it’d make your hips jerk, make you push futilely at his head with weak hands and tired muscles.

“I know, angel,” He pushes you back down against the mattress, folds his forearm over your stomach to keep your hips pinned down. “Relax, it’s alright. Let me make you feel good.”

He tongues at you, slow and deliberate, for what feels like hours, until there’s a wet spot in the linen sheets underneath you and you’re whining his name through breathless pants. He seems content with spending eternity with his head between your legs and dangling you on the precipice of your orgasm with soft, feather-light kisses.

“Please, please...”

Your hands have long fallen limp over your stomach, too listless to thread your fingers through his hair. You’re a languid mess and he seems to like you like this, dwindling between the lines of consciousness and only kept awake by your desperate desire to come.

“My pretty baby. So sleepy, hm? Poor thing.” He hums against your skin, and you’re so close it hurts. You’re too limp to press his lips to your cunt with your hands, to rock your hips and chase your orgasm the way you normally would. You just let your head loll back against the pillow and whimper his name like it’s a prayer.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Just a little longer.”

Only when there’s tired tears pricking at your eyes and the knot below your navel is wound so tight that you feel like your entire body might snap, does he finally push you over the edge.

It’s not the violent, body-wrecking kind of climax he’s pulled from you so many times, not the freefall from the height of a staggering cliff. It’s more of a smooth descent, the drop-off on a rollercoaster that makes your stomach swoop. The kind that starts high and ends low, seeps through your entire body like sticky-hot molasses.

He manages to make it just as slow and drawn-out as the process it took to get you there. He keeps your legs open with his palm spread over your thigh, even as you try to fold into yourself. He groans at the sensation of you cumming against his mouth, his hips rutting mindlessly against the mattress. He blissfully laps at you and rides you through it until you dissolve into a puddle of shallow, shuddering pants.

He places kisses to the inside of your thighs while you tremble, murmurs praises against your skin, “Beautiful. Love watching you come apart for me.”

When he crawls up your body and finally presses his mouth to yours, you can taste yourself on his tongue.

It’s soft and tender, and his chin is sticky, and it’s all just so good that you feel as if you’ve died and gone to heaven. He smiles against your lips when he realizes you’re too drowsy to even kiss him back properly, beyond pleased with your lethargy.

“Good?”

You’re too incoherent for words, but the lazy little hum of agreement you let out is just as satisfactory.

He breathes out a laugh. “You’re the most precious thing in the world to me, do you realize that?”

He kisses you once more before he pulls back to take in the state of your flushed cheeks and tear-damp lashes, still fluttering in their weak attempts to stay open. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight.

“It’s alright,” He murmurs through a kiss pressed to your forehead. “Sleep.”

He rights your rumpled camisole that’s been bunched up at your waist and smooths back the stray hairs sticking to your cheeks. You let him adjust you how he sees fit and fluff up the pillows around you until you’re properly swaddled to his liking.

He leans in to nose at your jaw, reveling in how warm you are and stealing as many kisses as he pleases. He leaves whispered promises that he knows you won’t hear, traces vows with his fingertips over the soft expanse of your skin.

Only after your breathing’s finally steadied out and you’re curled into yourself does he pick himself up from his spot on the edge of your bed. He allows himself a final chaste kiss to the soft patch of skin on your shoulder that’s peeking out from under the covers, before he slips out the door silently.

In the quiet of the empty hallway, his skin still buzzing from your touch, he makes his way back to his room with a soft, pleasure-drunk smile tugging at his lips.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy smut #fluff

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thenerdykneazle · 5 months

Text

Left Behind

Summary: Ominis is feeling forgotten when he discovers his partners have run off on yet another adventure without him. He frets about the future of his relationship with two people who seem to neither need nor want him around. Can Sebastian and MC make amends with him when they return to the castle?

A collab with the lovely @darch7995, who gave me the prompt and created the audio version of this story. Listen here.

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC x Sebastian Sallow

Warnings: light angst, sad Ominis

Word count: 2511

Ominis could hear the scrape of metal on stone as the door to the Room of Requirement materialised before him. He pushed it open and stepped inside. He could hear several cauldrons bubbling and the magical loom weaving away. The aromas of mallowsweet leaves and shrivelfigs hung thickly in the air from the potting tables along the wall.

“MC? Sebastian? Are you here?” he called as he took echoing steps into the centre of the large room.

A soft pop came from his right. “Deek saw the students leave nearly an hour ago,” the house-elf said.

Ominis groaned. “Ugh, of course, they did,” he groused. “Off to fight some dark wizards or search for artefacts in a hidden cave, no doubt.”

“MC told Deek they were going to collect ashwinder venom for a new potion,” Deek said timidly.

“What a surprise!” Ominis said sarcastically as he began to pace around the room. “That’s obviously more important than working on our project for transfiguration – like we had agreed on days ago! And, naturally, they didn’t tell me they’d miss our appointment. Plus, why ask the boy who can speak to snakes to tag along? Why would he be useful?”

Deek let out a squeak of fright as Ominis sent a hex at the adjacent wall, singeing a portrait of a witch with her pet niffler in her lap. “Deek is very sorry if he upset you,” the meek elf said in a trembling voice.

Ominis winced. “No, I’m not upset with you. I…I’m sorry,” he said, as a pang of guilt stabbed into his stomach. He hadn’t meant to scare the innocent elf. He was just frustrated.

Deek apologised again, as if he’d done anything wrong, before popping away again.

Ominis sighed as he trudged forward into the forest vivarium. Inside, he could hear unicorns galloping across the ground and jobberknolls soaring above the trees. Wand outstretched, Ominis walked down the cobblestone path to a bench by the water. The sun warmed his skin as he stepped out of the shade of the trees. As he sat there, a light breeze tousled his hair, making a few strands fall across his forehead. He usually liked to nap in the spot, but he didn’t feel up to it at the moment.

His attempt to brood angrily failed miserably, as Ominis just felt dejected. He sniffed as unshed tears made his nose begin to run. He didn’t understand why his companions constantly neglected him in favour of each other. He had been elated – eventually – to have MC make him and Sebastian a trio again. Something had been missing ever since Anne had to leave school. He thought MC had filled that void – not that she had replaced Anne, as the other Sallow twin was still like a sister to him. She was far better to him than any of his actual siblings, and nothing would change his love for her. But she wasn’t there anymore.

And Ominis’s feelings for MC were certainly different than his ones for Anne. Right from the start, they were a lot more like how he felt toward Sebastian. It had felt like a dream come true when they had decided to date each other – Ominis had thought he couldn’t ask for better partners. They both made him laugh. They both knew how to comfort him when he was upset. They both made his heart skip beats when they sat close or grabbed his hand to lead him to some newly discovered oddity in the castle or out on the grounds. Ominis normally hated when people grabbed him, but it was different with Sebastian and MC.

Though, neither was dragging him much of anywhere lately. The girl who had stolen a piece of his heart had also managed to steal most of their boyfriend’s time. They were always sneaking off to Merlin-knows-where to get into untold trouble. It made Ominis feel like an outsider in his own relationship.

Heavy thuds behind Ominis announced the approach of the hippogriffs even before Highwing’s chirping made their presence obvious. She nuzzled into the boy’s side before flopping down on the ground beside him, resting her head on the bench beside him. Caligo settled down on the opposite side of the boy.

Ominis laughed softly, despite the heaviness still in his chest at being abandoned. “At least you two still like me,” he said, giving each beast a pat on the head.

Caligo chittered happily as Highwing rubbed the side of her face against Ominis’s thigh in a display of affection.

“Maybe I should take a page out of Poppy’s book and promote you two to my best friends,” Ominis joked. He could feel Caligo’s head tilt with his hand still resting atop it. “You wouldn’t abandon me for each other, would you?”

They gave no response.

“What am I saying? Of course, you would,” Ominis said, shaking his head. “You two are a bonded pair.”

The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

“You know,” he continued to the hippogriffs, “I used to think Sebastian and I were a rather bonded pair. And, while I was sceptical of MC when she first arrived, she won me over. I thought I had gained a new partner in crime. I didn’t realise then that my old friend and my new one would slowly decide they were better off without me.”

Highwing made a sympathetic sort of chirp. At least, Ominis thought it sounded so.

“Yes, I suppose MC left you behind on this adventure too, didn’t she?” he observed. “She has a fancy upgraded broom and a duelling champion. What’s she need any of us for? Never mind that you saved her from those poachers. Or that I helped her defeat all those inferi in the catacombs – inferi that Sebastian created, mind you. But why have the blind boy tag along, right? I couldn’t possibly take care of myself – or, shock of shocks, be helpful.”

Caligo rested his head in Ominis’s lap. The boy stroked the creature’s head, smoothing his feathers gently. It made his fingers feel powdery to run them through his plumage, but it also soothed him.

“I just….I really can’t believe Sebastian replaced me so easily,” he said, struggling to get the words out as he was getting choked up. “After all we’ve been through together. After all that I’ve stood by him through. And MC…I confided in her about things I’d never even told Sebastian. They both mean so much to me, and…it’s like I’m expendable to them. They just ran off without telling me. Again. Not only do they not need me, they…they don’t even want me there.”

Ominis stayed in the comforting presence of his feathered companions. He felt a bit less alone with them on either side of him. Completely losing track of time, he just sat and sulked with them until two more people burst into the vivarium.

“Ominis?” MC called as she wound through the trees.

The blond didn’t bother replying. He had little interest in talking to either of his so-called partners. The hippogriffs scampered off when they heard their master’s voice.

“Traitors,” Ominis grumbled to himself.

“Ominis! There you are!” Sebastian said as the pair arrived at his bench. “We’ve been looking all over for you! We were worried something happened to you when you weren’t at dinner. You’d just disappeared!”

Ominis snorted out a laugh. “You two are the ones who disappeared,” he accused, crossing his arms over his chest in indignation. “We were supposed to work together in the library this afternoon, and you couldn’t be bothered to tell me you weren’t going to make it.”

“That was today?” MC asked guiltily, shifting nervously where she stood and making the leaves crunch under her feet.

“Yes, it was!” Ominis shot back irritably. He shifted away from her voice, turning his nose up in the air. “But I should’ve known better than to expect my boyfriend and girlfriend to show up to our study date.”

“I’m sorry, Ominis. We just got caught up–” Sebastian started, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Ominis shrugged him off. “You’re always getting caught up in something! And always leaving me behind!” he interjected.

“We didn’t think you’d want to come,” MC admitted, sounding remorseful.

Good, Ominis thought. She should be sorry.

“We had to fly up into the mountains to find the ashwinders’ nests, and you hate flying,” she explained.

“But I love the two of you! I would’ve gone if you’d asked,” Ominis retorted. “But you clearly didn’t want me there.”

“That’s not true!” MC insisted.

“Isn’t it?” Ominis replied.

“You know it’s not,” Sebastian stated firmly, breaking back into the conversation. He often let MC handle Ominis when he was upset, as Sebastian was under the impression that MC “had a way with him.” The blond had clearly struck a nerve to make him feel the need to speak up.

“No, I don’t, Sebastian!” Ominis argued, growing angrier. Before he knew it, he was on his feet and jamming a finger in Sebastian’s chest. “You two just don’t want your little blind pet getting in the way. You don’t think I can handle myself out in the forest, right? You think you need to protect me from harm while you both run headfirst into danger. You treat me like a child!”

“Ominis!” MC gasped, taken aback at his outburst.

“Do either of you even want me around anymore?” he asked, trying not to let the pain show in his voice.

“Of course, we do,” Sebastian said, and his anger had dissipated. He took hold of Ominis’s hand. Ominis squeezed his in return. “We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I didn’t think you would want to go gallivanting through the Highlands.”

“What I want is to spend time with my boyfriend and girlfriend again. You two are always gone lately,” Ominis admitted.

MC wrapped her arms around him from behind. “I’m sorry, Ominis. We found a potion that might be able to cure Anne, and I’ve had tunnel vision about the whole thing. But I also didn’t want to get her hopes up if it didn’t pan out. I wasn’t sure we’d be able to find all of the ingredients.”

Ominis rested a hand on her arm that was across his stomach. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he croaked.

“Ominis,” MC said chidingly, “you know you’re rubbish at keeping secrets from her.”

The boy’s cheeks flushed with heat. “I’m not that bad,” he said defensively.

“You told her what I’d bought her for Christmas three years in a row before I started hiding it from you, too,” Sebastian argued, making MC chuckle.

Ominis could feel her chest rumble against his back, and he melted into her.

“So, you two aren’t tired of me, then?” he asked a bit timidly.

MC laughed. “Hardly,” she replied before giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Who else would be the voice of reason?” Sebastian joked. Tenderly cupping his hand over Ominis’s cheek, he added, “You know I’m mad about you, you stupid git.”

“Ever the romantic,” Ominis replied drily.

MC giggled as Sebastian crashed his lips into Ominis’s. He had clearly taken the heir of Slytherin’s words as a challenge. One he met with force. If MC hadn’t been behind the lithe boy, Sebastian probably would have knocked him to the ground.

Sebastian tasted like the treacle tarts he always gorged on after chasing MC around on some ill-advised adventure. Ominis fisted his free hand into his boyfriend’s robes as he kissed him back, sliding his tongue into his mouth and making him moan. Sebastian quickly returned the favour – and then some, as he moved to trail open-mouthed kisses down the side of Ominis’s neck.

Panting as he pulled back, Sebastian’s smirk was practically audible. “Better?” he asked cheekily.

Ominis chuckled. “Much,” he replied silkily, stroking his thumb over the back of MC’s arm, which was still wrapped around him.

“Does this mean you’d want to help us get venom from the snake I’ve got in my nab-sack?” MC inquired, lifting her head off his shoulder. “Because I’d really prefer not to get bitten again.”

“You were bitten?” Ominis roared.

“Three times, actually, but Nurse Blainey patched me right up when we made it back to the castle,” she replied as if it were as casual of a fact as that it might rain the following afternoon.

Ominis felt like he might pass out before the rage steadied him. “You let her get bitten three times?” he growled at Sebastian.

“How is it my fault?” Sebastian asked, bewildered, but Ominis had already spun away from him, refocusing on MC.

His hands worried over every inch of her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked. “Are you dizzy? Or in pain? Do you want me to take you back to the hospital wing for the night, just in case?”

“I’m fine,” MC insisted, and Ominis would bet a pretty galleon that she’d rolled her eyes.

“I got bitten too, you know,” Sebastian sulked.

“Merlin, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Ominis said, pulling MC into a tight hug.

Sebastian pouted even more at being ignored.

“I am as long as I can breathe,” MC choked out.

Ominis instantly released her. “Sorry,” he muttered, raising a hand to her cheek and gently stroking his thumb over the smooth skin.

“It’s all right,” MC replied kindly before turning her head to press a kiss into his palm. “You’re sweet to worry, but I really am fine.”

“Barely! You’re never going out without proper supervision again,” Ominis asserted.

“Now who’s being treated like a chi–” MC started.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian asked, offended.

“You know exactly what I meant, Sebastian,” Ominis said severely. “Clearly, you two are hazardous left to your own devices.”

“I’ll let that slight pass if it means you’ll start coming out with us,” Sebastian said lightly.

“Yes, I’ve quite made up my mind on it,” Ominis replied seriously.

“Brilliant! It’ll be great having more help. And if we all get stranded in one of those remote little cabins and have to share the one, tiny bed all pressed up against each other, well…all the better,” Sebastian added cheekily.

Ominis jumped slightly when he felt a hard pinch on his bum. “You’re a degenerate, Sebastian,” he tried to assert, but his face was going red imagining the scenario.

“You love me,” the mischievous boy stated confidently.

Ominis could tell he had stepped in rather close, because he could feel Sebastian’s breath puff over his nose and cheeks.

Ominis gave a dramatic sigh, refusing to give Sebastian the satisfaction of swooning at his flirting. “Against my better judgement, but, yes, I do. Both of you.”

“Good. Because we’ll never be tired of you, so you’re stuck with us,” MC said.

“Promise?” Ominis asked, feeling a jolt of insecurity.

Sebastian rested his forehead against his, their noses brushing together. “Promise,” he vowed.

Ominis relaxed. Pressed between the two people he loved most, he felt anything but unwanted.

#ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanfic #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow #sebinis #ominis gaunt x mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc x ominis gaunt #silver trio #sebastian sallow #Deek

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underthenightskydreamsneverdie · 1 year

Text

Little Wolf

Summary: After taking out an Ashwinder camp, Sebastian and MC have some feral sex in the woods.

Warnings: 18+, Outdoors sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading/humiliation, idk it's just really filthy guys

pairing: Sebastian x f!MC

Word count: 1289

A/N: @callmehopeless asked for outdoor feral sex and here is my contribution. This may be the filthiest thing I've ever written and I fucking love it. @pugsnotdrugs92 @sebswebs

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

Sebastian took your hand, running into the night, his heart pounding in his chest. He spared one last glance over his shoulder at the ruined Ashwinder camp, his mind flashing with a memory just made; standing back to back with you, taking out enemies, never missing your targets as you moved in unison, spells firing in quick succession, the look in your eyes as you stood surrounded by bodies of your victims, the air around you simmering with remnants of your ancient magic.

Adrenaline coursed through both of your veins, with it an insatiable lust. He stopped running, pulling you into a small grove of trees, roughly pushing you up against the closest one. He didn’t ask, didn’t say a word, just ripped at your clothes. The moment you were naked he was on you, lips biting at yours, hands grabbing at your flesh, roughly squeezing a breast, a hip, raking across your body as he growled into your mouth. Breaking the kiss, his hands worked quickly to undo his pants, pushing them down enough to free his achingly hard cock. You whimpered as your hands slipped under his shirt, wordlessly begging him to take it off. He ripped at the buttons desperately, not wanting to wait a second more to have you. The shirt fell to the forest floor and his hands found your thighs, lifting you up, pressing you against the tree, shoving his cock inside you in one quick movement. He growled as he filled you, your warmth increasing his lust. He thrust hard and fast, each one scraping the bare skin of your back against the rough bark of the tree. You felt it digging in, cutting into you but you didn’t care. All that mattered was him.

You loved this side of him, his desperate, animalistic desire for you. When he didn’t care if he hurt you, if you liked it, if you could be seen or heard, all that mattered was the chase of release. In these rare moments he wasn’t your love, your darling, your sweetheart, no, he was your wolf. You would do anything to encourage him to let go, give in to his primal desires, entice the wolf in him to come out to play with the wolf in you.

Bringing your head to his shoulder you nipped at his skin, loudly moaning his name. As your first orgasm hit you dragged your nails down his back, leaving angry red marks on his freckled skin. The sting of it brought his own release and he paid you back in kind, his teeth sinking into your skin hard enough to draw blood. You crushed your lips against his bloody ones, groaning as you ran your tongue over his teeth, tasting your own blood.

As his orgasm subsided he set you down, stepping away to undress fully before pulling you to him and sinking you both down to the forest floor. Pushing your hips into the dirt he spread your legs, his strong hands keeping them in place while he pushed back into you, burying himself in your wet pussy once again. He thrust into you as hard as he could, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every one. Lifting your leg he threw it over his shoulder, grunting uncontrollably, lost in his pleasure. Gripping your hips hard, he pulled you to meet him as his pace increased, the sounds of your skin slamming together echoing through the forest. When his orgasm rocked through him this time he let out a deep groan, the end of it turning into an outright howl as he shot his load deep inside you. You let yourself do the same as your own orgasm overtook you, hands digging into the dirt around you.

His chest heaving as he came down from his high, you pressed on him, urging him back, forcing his cock out of you. Rolling over onto your stomach, pressing your face into the dirt, you raised your ass into the air, shaking it in front of his face. If you were going to act like lust crazed animals, you were going to let him fuck you like one.

Finally he spoke his first word since leaving the destroyed camp. “Fuck.” You smirked, loving that you’d gotten to him, but it was the feel of his hand coming down on your ass that made you moan. He kneaded the soft flesh before bringing his hand down hard multiple times in a row, high pitched moans slipping from your lips. He slapped at your rear for a long time, switching between cheeks, hitting and kneading until you were almost crying from the growing sensitivity. Just when you thought he was done, you felt his wet mouth on the already bruising skin, sucking at it, nipping at it.

“Sebastian.” You whimper his name softly not wanting to break him out of this animalistic state. “Fuck me. Fuck your Little Wolf.”

He let out a muffled growl, your flesh between his teeth. His hand came down one more time as he slipped himself into your wet folds. Setting a much slower pace he pulled completely out of you, making you whimper at the loss, before plunging back in, all the way to the hilt. Finally in the mood to speak, he punctuated his words with forceful thrusts.

“Do you..have any idea..how..sexy it is..to watch you..take out a..camp full of..bad guys..with your ancient magic? Have you..any notion.. of the ways..it drives me..wild?” With each thrust you let out small pleasurable screams as his body slammed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your mouth open, dirt sticking to your lips, the scent of the damp earth filling your nostrils, your mind went blank as he continued to pound into you, nothing but the deliciously painful feel of him breaking through your fogged head.

“Look at you, a whimpering, bloody and bruised, dirt covered mess, giving yourself to me. Fuck you look so beautiful right now. The Hero of Hogwarts grinding her face into the dirt like an animal. My strong, willful, girl reduced to this all because of my cock.”

You hated that you loved the way his degrading comments pushed you over the edge, a shockingly loud scream emanating from your throat as you came for him, bucking your hips wildly to meet his thrusts. With another loud howl he lost control, his own climax descending on him, pulling so far out of you, desperate to fuck you as hard as he could, half of his seed shooting onto the ground underneath you.

As the last waves of your orgasms subsided, he pulled out, collapsing on the forest floor next to you. Letting your legs relax you stretched out to your full length, giggling as his seed smeared on your stomach, dirt and twigs sticking to your skin. Turning your head to face him, an arm coming out to rest on his chest, you laughed together. Loud, obnoxious, tear producing laughter.

“Well that was interesting my Little Wolf. I like calling you that. Makes my blood race. Damn, you’re a mess darling.” He pulled a leaf from your hair, chuckling.

Sitting up, you crawled over to him, climbing on top of his body. Rocking your hips, your sopping wet core rubbing against his cock, you smirked at him. “You’re not nearly messy enough, my sexy wolf. I’m going to change that.” Feeling his cock growing hard again you raised yourself up before sinking down on him. With a long groan you set to work riding him, leaves and dirt falling from your hair, no plans of stopping until he was just as dirty as you.

#I can't believe I'm not embarrassed for writing this #What can I say? I'm a dirty minded freak #I hope y'all like this #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x female!reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic

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ephemerasnape · 8 months

Text

On Your Knees (Audio)

You're caught and subjugated by Ashwinders... NC

DARK & DISTURBING THEMES

Ashwinder Executioner x F!Listener

Ashwinder Duelist x F!Listener

EXPLICIT AUDIO 18+

Violence / Noncon / Praise Kink / Threats / Cruelty / Rough Oral Sex / FFM Threesome (sort of) / Dead Dove?

"You'll suck my cock like your life depends on it... and it does!"

ETA: Part two here!

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

Note

Hi, could I request a oneshot of female!MC in a toxic relationship and Sebastian angry/in protect mode after seeing a bruise on her, and going after her bf? As he confronts him he reveals his love for her in his heightened emotions. MC catches up in time to overhear everything and to stop Sebastian from killing him. Ending with fluff and MC ditching him for Bash?

Thank you, I love your blog!! ��

hello anon! thanks for the request — obviously the topic is a little sensitive so please mind the tags before reading! 🤍

a guy like you should wear a warning

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, magical fights and physical fights, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort

“You know why I’m here,” he says simply. “Did you seriously think you wouldn’t have to answer for that? She’s bruised.” A brief flicker of fear passes over the boy’s face as sparks fly out of the end of Sebastian’s wand, but quickly it’s smoothed over with a haughty grin. “So she told you, is that it?” the boy asks. “Poor thing, I should’ve known the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ couldn’t take one fight before running off to her little guard dog.” “You call that a fight?” Sebastian demands. “Looked a little one-sides to me.”

It’s bad enough that Sebastian has gotten used to seeing you confidently wear the collection of scars you’ve accumulated during your time at Hogwarts.

In fact, the very first time he’d met you, he’d noticed the thin scar that runs from your eyebrow down to the middle of your cheek. It’s the first thing that most people notice about you when they first meet you, he assumes, which is frankly an insult to your eyes.

Eventually you told him that your scar had come from an attack you’d withstood back in London – the very attack that brought Professor Fig to you in the first place, and that had resulted in you learning about at Hogwarts. Some of Rockwood’s men had tried to corner you just off Diagon Alley when it had occurred, and while Wiggenweld had been helpful in making sure you didn’t lose your sight in that eye, the swift Diffindo you’d taken to the face would always leave a mark.

You’ve also got a burn on your forearm from a particularly rough round of Cross Wands. Sebastian loathes that he’s responsible for it, even though you insist that you’ve grown to rather like it.

“It’s a badge of honor,” you joke, delighted by his residual guilt. “I’ll always remember that I ended up winning that round, won’t I?”

There are countless others, too: a thin scar by your lip where a particularly aggressive poacher had decked you while wearing an ostentatious ring, a fading mark on your ankle from angry Mongrel’s bite, and a small round burn from the tip of an Ashwinder wand right above your left hip that he’d only once caught a glimpse of.

By now Sebastian has seen just about every mark on you. (Hell, he was there when you got half of them.)

However, that familiarity means he’s quickly able to spot when there’s a new mark on you — especially where one shouldn’t be.

That morning at breakfast, he’s too preoccupied by the lush pile of cinnamon scones in front of him to get a good look at you when he first arrives. Given that he’s simply rubbish at Astrology, he’d been up late charting the stars to prepare for his N.E.W.T.s and had only just arrived near the tail end of the meal.

He’s already shoved half a scone in his mouth before he realizes Ominis is sitting beside you looking grim, one hand gently resting on your shoulder. On your other side, Anne is murmuring quiet reassurances to you while you press a cold compress to the right side of your face.

“It’s not that bad,” Anne says softly. “Just dab some Wiggenweld on it and it won’t even leave a scar.”

“Merlin, what happened to you this time?” Sebastian asks.

Anne shoots him a warning look as you sheepishly lift your head, gently removing the compress to show off an angry red laceration on your cheek. He hisses sharply – that looks like it hurts.

“It’s a long story,” you mumble.

“I’ve got time,” Sebastian says easily.

He hopes he’ll hear another story about how you’d been unable to sleep so you slipped out in the middle of the night to take on a lingering poacher camp, or maybe you’d attempted to sneak one of your baby Graphorns into one of the last remaining dens along the Clagmar Coast and failed to avoid detection.

Instead, you just avert your eyes.

“W-well, I guess it’s not really a story,” you murmur. “I was just running late to breakfast this morning and I, um… tripped, and those stairs are harder than they look.”

Sebastian frowns. You don’t keep many secrets from each other these days, but he can still recognize when you’re not telling the truth. Besides, that rapidly-bruising cut is clearly from a smack to the face, not a tumble down the stairs.

Anne pointedly clears her throat and takes the compress from your hand, tenderly pressing it to your cheek without another word.

When Sebastian looks across to Ominis, he’s surprised to see his friend’s sightless eyes peering back at him purposefully before he subtly shakes his head.

Not many people know that Ominis has quietly been studying Legilimency for several years. It was actually Professor Hecat who had suggested it in the first place, noting that his inability to interpret body language made dueling significantly more dangerous for him. Obviously saw Legilimency as a tactical advantage, but for Ominis, it was something infinitely more nuanced – a form of magic that his family hadn’t tainted, to start.

Indeed, Sebastian is surprised that his closest friend would have invaded your mind without your explicit consent, but he would be the first to admit that if he had such a skill, he would have done the same thing.

A beat later, Sebastian hears his best friend’s voice echo inside his head as he says, She didn’t fall. It was him.

His vision goes red, and his hand is on his wand before he even realizes what he’s doing.

“Bash,” Anne warns as he stands up from the table. “Don’t.”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask quietly, and as you peer up at him, the compress slips down your face.

As soon as he sees your wound again, there’s nothing anyone at that table could possibly say that would stop him from tracking down that sanctimonious Gryffindor prick you’ve been dating for the past few months.

Sebastian had been quite shocked indeed when you’d announced that you had started dating a boy you’d met in Hogsmeade near the start of term. Of course, the shock stemmed from the fact that you were apparently the last of your little quartet to learn that Sebastian was hopelessly in love with you.

You remained ignorant and had let that smooth-talking, arrogant twat into your circle without so much as a second thought, Sebastian had thought bitterly. He’d had to watch miserably as you spent less and less time with your fellow Slytherins in favor of being plied with attention from him and his cacophonous troupe of utter wankers.

Of course, Sebastian knew he was only dating you because you were the “hero of Hogwarts” and not because he actually liked you. He’d tried to tell you that once, and predictably it had gone rather horribly.

(Specifically, you’d hexed him so hard that he’d had to spend the night in the hospital wing because he couldn’t stop belching up flames).

But now it seems like his motives have shifted. He didn’t just want to date you – he wanted to control you.

Maybe you had indeed snuck out the night before, hoping to simply have some time alone with your thoughts while you patrolled for stray camps on your broom. And perhaps when you overslept and arrived late to breakfast, he pulled you aside and said that he was sick of waiting up for you, that it makes him look bad in front of his friends, like you don’t respect him. And maybe for good measure, he’d told you that you may have more powerful magic than him, but he certainly doesn’t need a wand to remind you of your place.

A quick glance at the long Gryffindor table across the room informs Sebastian that your boyfriend is long gone, perhaps anticipating that bruising you like that will come with swift consequences. Ignoring Anne’s protests and Ominis’ gentle warning to stick to legal spells, please, he stomps off toward the Grand Staircase.

Ultimately he tracks down the rotten sod in the Transfiguration courtyard, pompously leaning on the fountain like he doesn’t have a very precise bounty on his head.

“Get up, you feckless git,” Sebastian growls.

He’s already drawn his wand, and the rest of your gutless Gryffindor’s posse quickly scatters several meters away.

“Sallow,” he drawls. “What’s the problem today?”

It’s no secret that Sebastian is not a fan of the boy, though Ominis frequently bends over backward trying to encourage him to be polite for your sake.

“You know why I’m here,” he says simply. “Did you seriously think you wouldn’t have to answer for that? She’s bruised.”

A brief flicker of fear passes over the boy’s face as sparks fly out of the end of Sebastian’s wand, but quickly it’s smoothed over with a haughty grin.

“So she told you, is that it?” the boy asks. “Poor thing, I should’ve known the ‘hero of Hogwarts’ couldn’t take one fight before running off to her little guard dog.”

“You call that a fight?” Sebastian demands. “Looked a little one-sided to me.”

“You and I both know that if she’s wanted to, she could have tossed me into the air and slammed me right into the ground without lifting her wand,” the boy reminds him, standing up from the fountain and slowly reaching for his own wand. “But she knows better.”

Oh, Sebastian is sincerely going to enjoy this, he thinks.

Before the other boy can properly aim at Sebastian, he quickly casts a merciless Depulso at him and sends him skidding into the fountain – but not before crashing into the tranquil Wyvern statue that sits in the middle.

When he emerges, waterlogged and swearing up a storm, he sends a vicious Descendo across the courtyard to Sebastian.

Of course, Sebastian Sallow didn’t earn his title of reigning champion of Cross Wands by being unable to dodge such a simple spell.

The next curse he casts burns hot when it’s expelled from his wand.

“Confringo!” he shouts.

Flames flicker at the edges of your boyfriend’s robes and he yelps, panicked, before clumsily stamping out the fire with his soaked cloak.

Sebastian gives him no time to recover. “Flipendo!”

He goes sailing through the air and lands in the grass at the base of a gnarled tree, his wand abandoned by the fountain.

“You’re pathetic, Sallow,” he taunts. “All this for some whiny little slag?”

All of a sudden there’s a taste in Sebastian’s mouth that sends him reeling. It’s metallic, like blood, and stings a bit like an electric current. He remembers that taste – it precedes an urge he hasn’t felt in years, a spell he swore he’d never let cross his lips ever again. But it’s there, begging to be cast, practically daring him to silence your tormenter permanently.

He stomps over to the spineless, hunched-over prick with his wand drawn, pointed squarely at the boy’s chest.

But then he hears your voice call out, “Bash, stop!”

Both boys turn just in time to see you dash down the stairs into the courtyard, Anne and Ominis on your heels.

“Stop,” you repeat, and Sebastian can see that you’re trembling. “He’s not worth it.”

He murmurs your name, distracted just enough to lower his wand almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, it’s enough for the boy beneath him to roll out of his aim and pull himself to his feet. Then he swings at Sebastian, disarmed and desperate.

Sebastian tastes very real blood in his mouth this time — his lip has split, he realizes.

Then he laughs, which unsettles just about every onlooker in the courtyard.

“Mate, you can hit me all you’d like,” Sebastian says dryly. “But I haven’t got any compunction about hitting you back.”

For someone who generally agrees with Ominis that wandless violence is uncouth and uninspired, Sebastian packs a mean punch. He hears the twat’s nose break as he collapses to the ground in a heap, evidently knocked out cold.

Anne gasps. Ominis sighs, dissatisfied.

You, however, are completely silent.

“He deserved it,” are the first words out of Sebastian’s mouth.

As he carefully flexes the fingers of his bloodied hand, he adds, “He deserved much worse, actually.

“Sebastian, that’s enough,” Anne hisses. “You won, let’s just drop it.”

He desperately rakes his hand through his messy curls. Once he catches his breath, he carefully approaches you.

You look frozen in place — in fact, you’ve hardly moved a muscle since Sebastian had called out to you.

“I didn’t want you to see that,” he says quietly. “But I meant it. He dared to lay a finger on you, he had to answer for it.”

You nod carefully and barely flinch when Sebastian lifts a finger to trace along your bruised cheek.

“Bash,” you whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says quickly, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m sorry you had to handle him,” you say softly. “I wanted to, I would have, I just... At first I wasn’t even sure if it was real. I couldn’t believe that someone who loved me would say things like that to me, or hit me like that.”

Without thinking, Sebastian scoffs and says, “He doesn’t love you, I love you.”

Sebastian didn’t think those bewitching eyes of yours could go any wider, but once again he’s wrong.

“W-what?” you stutter.

“I — I just meant, someone who loves you wouldn’t put their hands on you,” he insists, mentally cursing his own existence. “A-and I’d never hurt you, obviously, so–”

“You love me?” you whisper. “Truly, Bash?”

He’d imagined finally telling you the truth so many times, but none of those scenarios involved Ominis, his twin sister and about forty other students watching with bated breath.

“I mean… yeah,” he laughs softly, deciding to reach for an aloofness that might allow him to maintain a shred of dignity. “Thought it was pretty obvious that I’ve been mad about you for ages.”

But before you can respond, you hear Professor Weasley emerge from her classroom and exclaim, “What in Merlin’s name is all this commotion?!”

You take Sebastian’s hand and start to tug him toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower in hopes of sparing him what would surely be several weeks of detention. The rest of the crowd quickly disperses and offers you much-needed cover; fortunately you’re able to spirit Sebastian away up to the Room of Requirement without being stopped.

“Sit,” you instruct him once inside, gesturing to a small round table with mismatched chairs. “You’re still bleeding.”

Sebastian touches his lip as he takes a seat and discovers that it indeed stings. You return with a rag and a bottle of Wiggenweld, dabbing some onto the cloth and gingerly pressing it to his lip.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Sebastian,” you say carefully. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, go on,” he agrees.

You stubbornly wait until he meets your gaze before you ask him, “Did it ever occur to you that there might be a simpler way to tell me that you love me than nearly killing my boyfriend in front of half the school?”

He waits a beat before admitting, “Honestly? Not really.”

You smile ruefully and use the rag to wipe away the rest of the blood around Sebastian’s mouth. Once you inspect his wound and confirm that the potion has firmly sealed up where it had split, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Before you can pull away, he murmurs against your lips, “But he’s not your boyfriend anymore though, right?”

You simply roll your eyes at him and toss the rag against his chest so he can return the favor.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #mind the tags please there’s some common triggers

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pluviowriting · 1 month

Text

Served Cold

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: violence, major HL game spoiler(s), swearing, I think that’s it.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Garreth Weasley x f!Ravenclaw!MC

A/N: Enjoy angry Garreth standing up for MC like 2 years after the fact but it’s the thought that counts really. I also wrote this almost all in one sitting so it is barely proofread xoxo Pluv

~~~

“I want to hear all about fifth year,” Garreth insisted, finally coming down from the mild temper tantrum he threw when MC showed him the Room of Requirement…and accidentally let it slip that it had been his aunt who showed it to her in hopes of giving her somewhere private to catch up on her studies.

“You spent a lot of time with Sebastian that year.”

MC immediately clocked the jealousy in his voice, and she didn’t even try to hide the smug smile that settled on her face.

“And I’ve spent a lot of time with you every year since. I was trying to help him find a cure for Anne. We both went through a lot that year. Really Gare, it’s like having a brother.”

“And you two weren’t able to find anything to help Anne?”

His voice grew soft at the mention of the other Sallow twin. She had touched more hearts than just those in her house. Garreth remembered the girl fondly, filled with memories of antics that rivaled his own like some unspoken competition between the two. She, of course, had the benefit of being able to drag Sebastian and Ominis into her schemes. Maybe half the time he had been able to trick Leander into participating.

“No.” She hesitated before looking at Garreth, a newfound seriousness on her face. “Gare, I need you to swear to me what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand?”

He sat a little straighter on the couch they were sitting on. He looked down at her and his eyes scanned over her face, trying to find a clue for what was about to come out of her mouth.

“I swear, MC. Whatever you tell me will stay in this room.”

The tension gradually left her shoulders as she recounted most of what she and Sebastian did in an attempt to find a cure for the mysterious curse that plagued the girl in Feldcroft. She did, intentionally, twist the story of what exactly happened in the catacombs. Solomon Sallow’s true cause of death was a secret she’d take to the grave. In embracing the relief it felt to just tell someone, especially someone who mattered to her as much as Garreth did, about just how much she had done during her first year on top of defeating Ranrok under the school, she missed the boy beside her growing more and more tense with every word she spoke.

“He used an Unforgivable on you?”

The cold, level tone that she had never heard come from his lips finally clued her in on the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t quite enjoyed hearing what she had gone through.

“Well, it was that or we would’ve died down there, Gare. We found the skeleton of Ominis’s aunt for Merlin’s sake. And I didn’t know the spell then, so I couldn’t have cast it.”

“He could have – you didn’t know it then? So you know it now?!”

“I had him teach me later. I uh it’s very useful when you’re spending your nights going up against poachers and ashwinders.”

“Ominis was there too. They both just agreed to let you take the godsdamned torture curse?”

MC opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get a word out, he was gone. It took longer for her body to react than she would’ve liked, and that delay paired with how much taller the Gryffindor was, she knew catching up to him before he found the Slytherin boys was going to be impossible.

~~~

“Oi! Sallow!”

Garreth was marching across the courtyard, the anger radiating off of him in waves so palpable it repelled anyone standing between him and the two Slytherin boys he was looking for.

“What’s got your knickers—what the fuck?!”

Sebastian’s antagonistic greeting was cut short when Garreth’s fist made contact with his cheek. The redhead was absolutely seething.

“Not so fucking tough when it’s someone your own size, are you? Huh?”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about?”

“Garreth, I—“

“Gaunt, if you open your mouth to try and defend him, what little grace I’m giving you will end. Don’t think I won’t exclude you from getting your arse kicked just because you can’t see it coming.”

His attention turned back to Sebastian, and the brunet still had the audacity to look confused. The sight just pissed Garreth off more.

“I know what you did, you fucking bastard. Were you not man enough to take it yourself? You had to make her take it? Did you two bring her to her common room afterwards or did you just let her walk all the way from the godsdamned dungeons up to Ravenclaw tower? You fucking cowards!”

His angry words were no longer enough and MC finally found them just as Garreth pounced on Sebastian and the two rolled around in the grass. Sebastian was only trying to dodge Garreth’s punches, and the fact he wasn’t fighting back just spurred the redhead on further.

“Levioso!” Her own voice carried across the lawn, her chest heaving as she felt she had searched everywhere in the castle before finally finding the scene she interrupted.

The anger didn’t leave Garreth’s eyes as he levitated over Sebastian until his glare was blocked by a particularly irritated and flustered witch. She affixed him with a withering stare before turning to her friend. She produced a wiggenweld potion from her pocket - because of course she still carried them around everywhere - and offered both Sebastian and Ominis an apology.

“I’ll deal with him. I apologize that I wasn’t quick enough to catch him before he found you two. I’ll handle him from here. I’ll speak with you two at dinner.”

Once the two were gone, she turned back to Garreth, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but it was still painfully obvious she wasn’t happy with him.

“I swear it won’t leave this room,” she mocked him, letting him fall to the ground.

Garreth’s cheeks almost matched his hair as he stood, frowning down at her as his eyes locked on hers.

”Well, I didn’t know the severity of what I was going to hear when you made me swear. You expected me to just hear what they, what he, made you endure and not do anything? Either one of them could have taken that curse instead of having you do it. I mean have they even apologized? It’s been two years, MC. Please tell me they at least had the decency to apologize afterwards.”

She hesitated, preparing to have to stop him again. “They don’t need to apologize. It was either take the curse or die. And I wasn’t going to die in some hidden room in this castle that no one else would know existed.”

His stare was incredulous as he tried to gauge how much her anger would be worth following the two snakes she set free. Feeling her arms wrap around him caused him to tense for a moment before he relaxed and he reciprocated her hold.

“Thank you for being so upset on my behalf, Garreth. If I were in the same scenario again, I’d take it. No matter who I would’ve been stuck there with, I would’ve taken that curse to get us out.”

”No, you wouldn’t have.”

She looked up at him, her facial expression indignant. She was clearly ready to argue but seeing the look on his face clearly made her falter and she didn’t speak.

”You wouldn’t have taken it if you were stuck with me. I love you too much to even imagine having to put you through that.”

The warm feeling from the Room of Requirement, when she realized she was able to tell him things she couldn’t tell anyone else, returned to her chest.

”I love you too, Garreth. Enough to never put us in a situation that requires that curse.”

He chuckled, leaning down closer to his favorite witch. “You’ve got a deal,” he murmured before sealing it with a kiss.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #garreth x f!mc #garreth x mc #hogwarts legacy garreth

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sebastianswallows · 11 months

Text

A new family — Chapter 4

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: a lot of angst and just lonely and pining and heartbroken Ominis but not for long

— WORDCOUNT: 1.8k

— TAGLIST: @littletealight @skarathewitch @myrachondria @mrimperio @ssnapsaurus @tarotwitchy-main @hufflepuff-16

“Have you read this one yet?”

“Not yet. You said it’s good?”

“I think so, but I don’t know how it compares to Hereward.”

“He was a middling potioneer at best. He is more famous for his father than his own work. What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Anything is fine.”

Her hand slid on top of his as they lay together on her bed, books spread out between them, their hair tousled on the pillows. Outside, it was still raining. The sun had nearly set, the sky was covered in clouds, and they hadn’t yet lit a lamp. For Ominis, it didn’t make a difference.

He flipped through one of the books without even paying attention to what he picked up, and sightlessly read aloud to her the passages that made him chuckle. The older the book, generally speaking, the more strange and dangerous its instructions were.

“Yes, just cut that claw off at the root from a sleeping dragon, I’m certain nothing bad could happen. To think they gave this instruction to third years in the 1640s…”

“Do they list any evasive manoeuvres?” she asked with a grin.

“I don’t think so, although I can feel something is scribbled on the side… Perhaps a cautionary ‘do not attempt alone’.”

What a strange experience, to be read to in the dark… It was comforting and intimate in a way she’d never experienced before. It made her think of all those school nights when Ominis would be studying on his own, and she’d be off on some quest or scouring through a goblin camp or doing away with Ashwinders using the curses Sebastian taught her. It seemed now like so much time lost… If she had spent more time with him instead, would it have been a comfort to him? Would things had ended up differently?

As Ominis kept reading, she rolled to her side and rested her head against his arm. He paused, but only for a moment, and then went on.

They decided, almost wordlessly, to do together the things they hadn’t done before. After a few more days of rain, they went to the forest looking for mushrooms, something Ominis could not safely do until then. They went on shopping trips to Diagon and Knockturn Alley and spent the whole day there — after a brief stop to Gringotts for him to relieve his family vault of a few more Galleons — and treated themselves to new robes and tailored clothes, and ingredients so they could try out some of the more dangerous potions they could never do at Hogwarts.

At the end of this escapade, she went to her home and packed up a few more things to take back to the mansion. Ominis waited for her with an undying smug smile — in the end, she would still be with him come winter.

“Have you considered staying, perhaps, even longer?” he asked with a casual air as they had tea at a little table next door to Scribbulus.

“You mean over Christmas and New Year’s?”

“Yes,” said Ominis at length, “and maybe longer than that?”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” she grinned. “Why do you ask?”

“Just tell me. Yes or no?”

He kept a smile on his face, but his brow was tense. Whatever confidence he’d had was clearly dwindling at her refusal to give him a straight answer.

“What are you really asking me, Ominis?” she said with a quiet lean forward and a teasing tone.

“Only what I said…”

She didn’t believe him, but couldn’t stop her grin.

In the end, she agreed to stay with him until January.

“After that, I really must go. I’ve put off looking for employment long enough.”

“There’s nothing to say you can’t remain with me and work.”

“Ominis…”

“And if you mention taking advantage of my so-called generosity one more time, I shall lock you in.”

“Ominis!” she laughed, but a part of her felt he was serious.

“I meant it,” he said more quietly. “I need you. I… I need you, to be happy.”

Her laughter died and she was left gazing at him softly, in silence. She wasn’t used to such openness from him… He was always the quiet one, closed off and elusive, a mystery in many ways, just like his family. And it was in part because of his family that she never considered Ominis as… more. More than a friend. The Gaunts would never have approved of her, and so every early flash of infatuation died until it ceased to flare at all. Of course, she had never imagined the drastic measured he would take to free himself from them… She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed. Between him and Sebastian, perhaps she had an unhealthy interest in homicidal boys.

Slowly, she reached across the table and covered his hand as it still held onto a teacup — an innocent and innocuous one, this time — and searched inside herself.

“It’s a difficult thing to imagine,” she said, “to be the one that makes you happy…”

“I don’t mean it as an imposition,” he said hastily, “not like some… some duty.”

“Still, it’s not what… what I…”

“Not what you had planned for your life?” he asked coolly, leaning back. He slid his hand from underneath hers and picked the cup with the other one for a sip.

“I don’t mean it like that, but… I suppose I don’t know yet what I want from life.”

“But enough to know it isn’t me, isn’t that so?”

“No,” she said with a faint laugh, “not even that much.”

Ominis nodded, but he seemed somewhat at peace, that or the fight had gone out of him at her utter lack of enthusiasm for his roundabout courtship. Still, it hadn’t been an outright rejection, at least not yet…

But it made the rest of their time together a bit more strained. She could feel his attention cast down on her whenever they were together — and perhaps it had always been so, but she only just now noticed — and their silences together grew more sad, more lonely, more discouraged.

Strangely, Ominis became a bit more daring too, as if he had nothing left to lose.

He showed her the mansion’s dungeons, finally, after months of her being there. She’d never asked to see it, but she had learned that it was held under lock and key. The only thing Ominis had told her about it was that it existed. It was a grey and arched expanse with cells on either side, and instruments the sort of which she’d only seen in the DADA class at Hogwarts — iron maidens, racks, heretic forks, and rows and rows of shackles along one of its walls.

“Don’t worry,” said Ominis, “it hasn’t been used in generations. I think. It should be adequately sterile by now.”

It did little to assuage her apprehensions, as the instruments and parts of the floor were still splattered with stains.

“Who were they used on?”

“I never asked.”

Ominis was more daring in asking for what he really wanted, too. Long picnics at the edge of the forest, dragging on until the owls and bats flew overhead and the wolves began to howl. Reading sessions of curse books in her bedroom until midnight with the lamps turned dim. They purchased a gramophone together, a muggle device his parents never would have abided, and played the latest symphonies out of its large flower-shaped cone.

And, lastly, he told her exactly what how he killed his family, and what he did with them… She was only partially surprised, but mostly secretly in awe at his daring and creativity.

He was expecting her to leave almost any day, and took advantage of the time she gave him. She gladly let him do it. And, from sheer cowardice, never addressed his fears — never told him that she felt things she hadn’t felt in years, and simply didn’t know what to do with them, especially in his presence, now, when she was really beginning to know him. Instead of seeing the polite Ominis, the aristocrat, the reluctant heir, the burgeoning dark wizard, she delved into his wants, his needs, his fears, and had found in him very much a kindred spirit.

She did, however, plan to leave — more for his sake than her own. Ominis needed someone who could dedicate their life to him, their freedom, and put aside their sense of self. He also needed a gentle soul who could be a good influence to him. And she was the furthest thing from that…

As the holidays approached, along with her implied departure, they gradually grew more distant. Even when they had dinner, even when they went on walks, or when they danced together by the fireplace to the wailing gramophone, there were silences between them that otherwise would not have been.

She resolved to buy him something, like a consolation gift — something as much for Christmas as for a ‘good-bye’ — and slipped out of the house one day in mid December via floo. There was nothing that someone could give to a boy who had everything — all the luxury, the books, the clothes, and all those fragrant roses that were now buried in snow — but she felt that he uniquely missed a sense of normalcy. He’d probably never celebrated a proper Christmas with his family, only the ones at Hogwarts, and that time must’ve been bitter for him. Seeing so many other classmates going happily back home, coming back with charming little presents and fond stories… She wondered if being around Anne and Sebastian was easier, as they didn’t have much of a home to go back to either.

It was, of course, pointless to speculate, especially when she had a mission: find him a worthy present.

Three hours later, she returned with a prettily wrapped package in brilliant green. The sun was just setting and coloured the sky pink, colouring the drawing room through the wide glass panes. Aside from the flash she made as she arrived, the house was eerily silent. She was pleased with this, of course, as it kept her journey secret. Ominis must have still been in the library where she left him, that or he’d gone looking for her… She meant to hide the package before she returned to him, slip it on some high shelf or some place out of reach, where even his wand wouldn’t detect it, but then she heard footsteps coming from the foyer… She only had enough time to tuck it behind her back.

But the steps were heavy, angry-sounding, and made by large boots. A visitor, at that hour? And uninvited too… She frowned and undid her cloak to lay it on an armchair, ready to confront whoever it was, when the stranger opened the door to the drawing room and walked in.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She recognised him from the pictures that still littered the mansion: Marvolo Gaunt.

#Ominis Gaunt #hl #Ominis Gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt imagine #Hogwarts Legacy imagine #Ominis Gaunt x Reader #Ominis Gaunt x MC #Hogwarts Legacy MC #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;a new family

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Text

No Light Without Darkness - Part Three

Part One / Part Two

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC - Request, dark, angst, mild smut NSFW 🔞

After the third day of no appearance, Sebastian had come to the conclusion that MC really had taken his words to heart and she would never return. He had meant it at the time, but as he sat and stared at his cell wall, he realised that he missed her daily chatter. She had been a glimpse of light, and now he found he wanted it back. Without it, the darkness was more suffocating than ever before.

....*....

The first thing MC noticed on waking was the stiffness. Her body felt like it had seized, her limbs uncooperative and heavy. She blinked against the light streaming in through a window, struggling to sit up. Where was she?

Hands pressed gently to her shoulders, urging her back against the pillows. It was a nurse from the look of her uniform, her face kind as she told MC to relax.

"Where am I?" MC croaked. "What happened?"

"You had an unfortunate accident and you are in St Mungos hospital. Now, lay back, you still need your rest." The nurse was firm but spoke kindly. "You took quite a hit from a barrage of curses, but you're healing up nicely. It's good to see you finally awake."

MC frowned, looking down at the bandages on her arms, the tight feel of one around her middle. "How long have I been here?"

"Almost a week, dear. Like I said, you took quite a hit."

MC's stomach clenched then rolled. Sebastian! She felt the nausea grip her and bolted upright. The nurse was quick and had a bowl to hand. It was over quickly, her stomach empty after days of being out cold.

MC trembled in her shock, memories beginning to surge in of the raid on the Ashwinder camp. It had gone bad, their numbers greater than anticipated. MC hadn't been on her best form, the call to finally go and drive them out coming the day after she had last been to Azkaban.

Her mind had been consumed with Sebastian, her concentration lacking from no sleep and emotional stress, and she had fucked up.

MC groaned and lay back against the pillows, exhausted. What a mess.

"When can I leave?" She asked. She needed to get to Sebastian. She had left him alone with all those Dementors, defenceless and in a terrible state.

The nurse gave her a stern look. "Not for a few days yet. And, dont even think about sneaking out of here. I know you Aurors, and I'm not going to stand for it."

After a long nap, MC awoke to the sight of Jenkins sitting in the chair next to her bed. MC saw the tight expression on her superior's face and felt her insides sink miserably. She was in so much trouble.

She moved to sit up. Jenkins stood and helped to adjust her pillows. He gave her a pained smile. "I've gotta say, MC. It's a bloody relief to see you awake. Thought we'd lost you there for a bit."

"I'm so sorry..."

Jenkins held his hand up, stopping her apologies. "Nope, none of that. Although, I have to say, you have been performing well below par recently. It's not like you to be so slack, which is why I paid a bit more attention to what's been going on."

"What do you mean?" MC shifted, getting comfortable.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Jenkins said. He sat in his chair, hands clasped. He gave her a look. "How about we start with an explanation as to why you've been sneaking into Azkaban prison to visit a prisoner named Sallow?"

MC gaped, her mouth dropping open in shock. He knew!? Oh my, she really was in trouble!

Jenkins frowned. "Yes, I know about your little visits. I took the liberty of looking in to this Sallow chap, wondering if perhaps he was a lead on the Ashwinder case, but no. It seems he is banged up for the murder of his own uncle, and, what's even more intriguing, he was one of your closest friends at Hogwarts School."

MC closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping as she sighed in defeat. Jenkins was well connected. He would have had no trouble digging up the information he wanted. He probably knew even more than he had said.

"Care to explain, MC?" Jenkins folded his arms.

MC looked at him. He didn't look angry, just curious. She nodded and took a steadying breath, and then she told him everything, from her arrival at Hogwarts, to meeting Sebastian, and their desire to cure Anne. It took a while to tell her story, especially when some parts had brought forth tears and she had to stop to catch her breath.

Jenkins listened intently, brow furrowed, asking a question every now and then. When MC finally finished, ending with her last visit to the prison and the state Sebastian had been in, she was wrung out, collapsing against the pillows with a sigh.

"I vaguely remember Solomon Sallow," Jenkins said. "Grumpy bastard he was. He left the force after some bad stuff went down, he got caught with his feet on the wrong side of the tracks so to speak. I'm not surprised he came down hard on youngsters like that, but it doesn't excuse murder, MC."

"Believe me, it was never the plan to kill him. I was so shocked when he began to attack us," she said. "But if Sebastian hadn't taken him down, then I wouldn't be here now, or it would be me in that prison instead, because Solomon had no intention of stopping. He would have killed me if Sebastian hadn't stopped him."

Jenkins nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, it does sound like a case of self defence. And two kids against an Auror no less. I don't like it. Something stinks here. Why didn't you stand witness before the Wizengamot?"

"I was a minor still, and a girl," MC said. "There was so much other stuff going on too, what with Ranrok and the loyalists, and Sebastian had been taken away before I even had a chance to try and explain. Professor Black wouldn't have another word said about it, already too concerned with covering up the fact that a student under his care had turned murderer."

Jenkins' face tightened further. "Hmm, I don't like this, it sounds like the whole thing was tidied up too quickly and neatly," he said. He leaned forward and gave her hand a pat. "Leave it with me. I'm going to do some more digging."

....*....

Footsteps at his cell door made Sebastian's head turn, a flicker of hope springing to life in his chest. Had she come back after all?

No, it wasn't her. The man who stood at his bars was tall, stern, dressed smartly and staring at Sebastian curiously. With a flick of his wand, the door slid free and he entered the cell.

Sebastian swallowed, shield firmly in place. He had never seen this man before and he was not a prison ward. He looked up at this stranger from his perch on the filthy bed.

"Well, Mr Sallow, you are a lucky man indeed," he said. "On your feet, son. You've got a trial to attend."

Sebastian's limbs jerked in shock. It was the only evidence he had heard the words spoken. His face remained blank. He stared at this stranger, finally convinced he had gone off the edge into craziness.

"I'm Jenkins. I'm head of the Auror department in London, and MC's boss," Jenkins said. "I reckon you might recognise her name."

Sebastian's chest began to rise and fall with quickened breaths. What was happening?

Jenkins leant forward to help Sebastian up. Sebastian immediately flinched, pressing up against the wall behind him. Jenkins held up both hands. "Alright, son, easy, it's alright," he said, calmly. "I'm not going to hurt you. But, I do need to shackle your wrists. I will escort you to the Ministry for the trial."

Sebastian blinked up at him. He licked his lips. "What trial?"

Jenkins gave him a wink. "We're going to get you out of here, son," he murmured, quietly. "Come on, up you get. There is a very anxious young lady waiting for you back in London."

....*....

Sweat beaded on Sebastian's brow as he stood inside a tight black cage in the centre of the court room. The benches arranged in a circular shape around him were filled with the robed officials of the Wizengamot. Their faces were a blur, a mass of colour that burned his eyes. Such noise and confusion were strange and he felt his shirt sticking to his back. He was hot, uncomfortable, overwhelmed. Unaccustomed to all these sensory stimulants.

The Minister banged the gavel on his desk and called order. Sebastian kept his gaze on the one person in the room he knew. MC looked beautiful, but pale, her face strained. There were purple shadows of exhaustion under her eyes. She looked unwell, her lips curving into a tremulous smile as she met his gaze. She nodded, trying to offer reassurance. Sebastian couldn't force his mouth to move to return that smile. He was still trying to process what today was throwing at him.

When it was time for MC to stand and give her statement, Sebastian felt his shield begin to tremble as she retold the events that had led to his imprisonment. Hearing her defend his actions made his eyes burn. Words like 'self defence' and 'neglected minor' being spoken around the room made a stray tear escape and track down his cheek.

When the time came for the court to vote, he watched as arms were raised in his favour. Disbelief shook him to the core.

When the Minister slammed his gavel down and declared that he was free to go, Sebastian felt his legs go weak. No more cell, no more darkness. How was this happening?

....*....

The sun was beginning to set as they left the Ministry. She had taken a very stunned Sebastian to her apartment to bathe and let him change. He hadn't spoken, and she didn't push him. She was here for him when he was ready and told him so.

He sat on the chair near her window, hair still damp from the bath and curling up around his face. He was looking out at the world, his eyes drinking in the life and bustle of London. MC couldn't help but stare at him, here, in her space.

She made him some dinner, and he ate a little of it, still not speaking any more than a polite, muttered thank you. She made light chatter for him to listen to, making sure he was comfortable. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved around the room, and tried to hide the way her hands were trembling. Having him here, safe, and in such close proximity was doing things to her heart.

At bedtime, she said he was welcome to sleep in the bed, but he shook his head. As she lay under the blankets, she peeked over at him in the chair, wide awake, still looking out her window.

"You won't disappear while I'm asleep, will you?" She asked.

"Where would I go?" His words were sad, lost.

"You're always welcome here. With me."

He swallowed and bowed his head. "You've done so much..." He put his hands over his face, a deep shuddering breath leaving him. "I'm out of that place. I'm..I'm really free."

MC slid quickly from the bed, padding softly across the room in her nightgown to kneel at his feet. "Yes, you're free," she said. "And I would do it all over again if I had to, Sebastian."

He removed his hands from his face and turned to her. "I owe you my life."

She gave him a little smirk. "Maybe I like having friends in my debt."

His gaze travelled over her face. "Friends?"

"If that's what you would like," she whispered. "I just want you to be able to find some happiness, Sebastian. You deserve it."

He didn't look convinced. But, he lifted a hand, his fingers hesitant as he reached out towards her. MC remained absolutely still as he brushed one finger tip across her forehead, sweeping her hair back a little. Goosebumps spread over her skin at the feather light touch.

He withdrew his hand and she couldn't help but feel disappointed. But, she had to be patient. She had to give him time.

For the next three days they found a little routine, simple, easy. Shared meals, quite time by her fire reading, she made small talk but let him set the pace. He wasn't ready to go out into the world yet and she wasn't going to force him.

"When do you return to work?" He asked her on the third evening.

"Jenkins told me to take as long as I need," she said. "He understands."

"You don't need to put your life on hold for me, MC," he said.

She stared at him. He was standing by the fire, watching the flames flicker and dance, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Swallowing down her nerves, she moved towards him. Tentatively, she slid her fingers into the hand that hung at his side. He looked down as she wrapped her fingers around his.

"My life isn't on hold, Seb," she said. "This is my life, and I want you in it. I always have."

"Because you love me," he said.

Her eyes lifted to meet his. His gaze was softer, the hardness was slowly fading from his face. The trauma was still there, but something was easing it. There was warmth in his eyes now as he looked at her.

She managed a shy smile. "Well, I broke the rules to come visit you, almost died because I couldn't stop thinking of you, and somehow, I managed to convince the Ministry to let you out. So, yes, I love you, Sebastian. I love you a whole lot."

He thought a moment. "You know, I remember the first time I ever really looked at you. There was this moment, when our eyes met, it was strange. I had this really odd feeling that you were going to have some kind of impact on me, I didn't know what at the time, but I guess it was this. You were going to save me, in more ways than one, and I'm not entirely sure I deserve it. But, I will take it all the same."

MC stared at him. It was the longest speech he had given since she had stumbled upon him in the prison that night. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Well, I think you deserve it."

His eyes shone with unshed tears. He placed his glass of whiskey on the mantelpiece and turned to fully face her.

Slowly, gently, he brushed his finger tips across her cheek, sliding his fingers into her unbound hair. His thumb caressed her cheek, savouring the feel of her skin. He bent to press his lips against hers in a feather light kiss before whispering against her mouth. "I love you."

She stared up into his eyes, their faces almost touching, the close proximity stealing her breath. "Don't sleep in the chair tonight," she whispered. "Come into the bed. With me."

His thumb brushed her lower lip. "I'm not sure if I will be able to," he rasped. "Having you so close like that...the temptation..."

She stepped backwards, pulling him with her by the hand, a smile curving her mouth. He let her tug him along, across the room towards her bed.

"MC..." There was a dark edge to his voice.

She held tight to his hand, refusing to let him go as she climbed up to kneel on the bed. She drew him close, her hand smoothing up his chest to his collar. "Kiss me," she ordered, softly.

His eyes burned into hers. She moved to pop the first button free on his shirt. She saw his throat work as he swallowed, a dark burn growing in his eyes. She felt the answering call of her own body. She wanted him, desperately.

His kiss was soft, a searching taste of her lips. She returned his kisses, her hands continuing to open his shirt. As she slid her palms over his bare chest, she parted her lips, welcoming him deeper. The soft swirl of his tongue against hers drew a low moan from her throat.

Slowly, almost reverently, he began to remove her clothes, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin as he exposed it. He trailed his fingers with devastating softness over her collar bone and down to caress her breasts. She arched into the touch, craving it, sighing with pleasure as he pressed his lips to her throat.

Laying with him brought a new sense of intimacy, their skin available to each other for soft touches and hot kisses. Sebastian trailed his hands over her scars, his mouth pressing soothing kisses against the old hurts. The feel of his body pressed against hers felt like the most natural thing in the world, she clung to him, desperate to wrap her warmth around him. A fierce need to protect him made her hands greedy, palms smoothing over his flesh, learning every hardness, every sensitive softness.

When he finally entered her, joining their bodies completely, she pulled his face down to hers, pressing kisses to him. Whispering her love to him through her moans of pleasure.

His intensity grew, his face tight with his need as he began to move faster. His fingers clutched at her, grip tight and hungry. His hips thrust harder, groans spilling from his parted mouth as she gripped his hips, tilting her pelvis to get just the right angle of friction. The sounds of their pleasure filled her room, the bed beneath them protesting under the urgency of their desire.

The sight of him so lost in her made the tightening coil of her pleasure snap, and she clenched around him, bearing down against his thrusts as she climaxed, his name ripped from her throat in a desperate cry.

He joined her, snapping his hips, before burying himself deep, his cock throbbing with violent release. He fell over her, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin. She held him, her fingers sliding lovingly through the tumble of brown locks on his head. She never wanted to let him go.

....*....

Over the next few weeks, Sebastian learned how to live again, and MC was his reason for all of it. The days became easier as his confidence grew, and the nights were spent lost in the heat of her embrace. He worshipped her, savouring the feel of her kiss, losing himself in the haze of desire that consumed him as he took her for his own.

Eventually he began to brave the outside world, one of the first stops being a trip to Ollivanders for a new wand. The bustle of the city was overwhelming at first, but soon he found himself linking up with old habits. The feel of a wand in his hand a huge step into finding himself.

One afternoon, MC held him close, tight, and Apparated them into the Forbidden Forest. Sebastian took a moment to savour the sights and sounds of the trees, the scent of Highland air, filling his lungs with it.

She led him to a clearing and took up a duelling stance. He lifted an eyebrow at her. "Oh, and what's this?"

She grinned, her face alight with excitement, her beauty hitting him full force. He always had got a kick out of watching her duel, the very stance she was in tickling the deepest pits of his lust.

"I thought we could have a little bit of fun," she said. She flicked her wand teasingly. "Come on, let's see if you've still got it."

The old, familiar buzz of a challenge rushed through him, and he slipped his wand out, adjusting it in his grip as he began to circle her. At the first cast she was keeping him on his toes. It had been a long time, his muscles were stiff and out of practise, and he was soon putting up a sweat as he defended against her. And she wasn't going easy on him either.

It felt good. He felt alive. As she hit him with Levioso, and then used Accio to tug him closer towards her, he began to laugh. The joy of the moment bubbled up and out of him, the sound of his laughter spreading out around the clearing. She grabbed at him, pulling him down until he was on the ground, her arms snaking about his waist. She smiled up at him, her face flushed and happy.

He felt a warm glow, a surge of delight at doing something he loved, of being with someone he loved.

"Marry me," he said. The words bursting from his mouth.

She looked surprised, her eyes widening, and then she was squeezing him tightly, her face buried against his chest as she burst into tears. "A thousand times, yes!" She cried.

He lifted her off her feet, swinging her around before crushing a fierce kiss to her lips.

That tiny part of himself that he had hidden so carefully was now filling him completely, his heart full with her, with the freedom of the air around him. Now, it was the shadows that he squeezed into the corner, for they would always be a part of him. Without those shadows, he wouldn't have this light. Without the darkness, he never would have found her again. And he knew, without a doubt, that there was no living without her.

He had been given a second chance and he didn't want to waste it. He would spend the rest of his life proving to her that he was worth the risk, that he was worthy of the love that she had shown him.

MC was his light in the darkness.

Thank you so much for reading! 💜

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