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roarieluz · 4 months

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Who Do You Smell? (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Summary: Sebastian Sallow has had a crush on Y/N for a while now, this isn't news to him but when a strong batch of amortentia is made for potions class it is hard to keep his mind clear of anything that isn't about you and what he wants to do to you.

Warning: contains mild smut as this is about Sebastian's fantasies while in class.

Rushed footsteps trekked along the cobblestone hallways of Hogwarts, echoing into excessive sounds of pitter-patter and endless conversations.

“We have an exam…TODAY?!”

“Did you hear about what happened in Hogsmeade yesterday?”

“You’ll never guess who I saw Poppy Sweeting with!”

Countless students made almost a sea of cloaks as they tried to make it to their next class on time without any pestering ghosts or moving stairs to slow them down. It was almost daunting to try and part the waves of children and teens, Sebastian thought. It was so daunting that he couldn’t help but at least acknowledge the nagging pit of a feeling that told him he would be better off droning away in the undercroft for an hour or two. Alas, Headmaster Black had already warned him that if he missed one more lesson there would be worse things than detention waiting for him.

How dramatic.

The Slytherin made his way to class nonetheless, not due to the threats of expulsion but rather the company that awaited him. If he had ditched, Ominis would give him a terrible earful no doubt, which would be a shame as that would get in the way of all the other trouble their little group could find themselves in. There was also the issue of leaving his potion’s partner, Y/N alone. How could he leave her all by her lonesome? After all, who would give her quippy one-liners to help pass the time in that dreary class? Gareth Weasley? The thought alone almost made him laugh.

His feet paused, finding himself now in front of the open door to the potions classroom. He always needed a moment before trudging into the smoke-filled haze of a room. It was always hotter than the other classes, almost on par with the humidity that suffocated him in herbology. Deep in the classroom, he could already spot his partner despite the slight fog between them. She was talking to Ominis, who sat at the desks in front of them. Her cloak was off, he noted, thrown to the opposite side of their table like a forgotten rag. He took in the sight of her leaning against the table to whisper something into his friend's ear. Her long sleeves rolled up to help combat against the heat that radiated from the cauldron centered on their table.

This is why I come to this class.

“Sebastian! There you are!” Y/N said as she looked up to see him still standing in the hallway. She waved him over with a warm smile still plastered on her lips, a smile she always had reserved for him…at least he’d like to think so.

“Just in time too.” Ominis commented, his tone comparable to a mother.

“Yes, yes, hold your applause.” Sebastian playfully replied as he took his seat next to Y/N, his tower of books hitting the hardwood of the table with a thud. She rolled her eyes at him but the smile didn’t fade away from her lips. It was a look he knew all too well, in fact, he looked forward to it. What could he say to make her roll her eyes in the back of her head? What comment could his mind come up with to make her so facetious? It was a fun game of his, one where he had to carefully walk the line if he wanted to keep her beautiful smile in his sight.

“Sit down, class is about to start.” Professor Sharp announced with a deadpan. He walked in front of his desk, leaning on the stable wood as he stared into the classroom, noting who was present or not. To his surprise Sebastian sat with a smug grin next to Y/N, even giving the professor a little wave, as if he knew he was shocked to see him. He wasn’t amused by the notion, but kept on with the class, not wanting to give him any more attention to his childish antics.

“Would anyone like to explain to me why they might think this month might be one of the most dangerous months of the year?” Sharp asked as he studied the fifth-year’s expressions of puzzlement.

Sebastian raised his eyebrow at the question. Dangerous? What could make February more dangerous than any other month of the year?

He looked over at Y/N, confusion all over his face, hoping to get insight from her. She’s only faced more danger than anyone else in the room besides perhaps the professor himself. If anyone would know, surely it would be her.

She simply met his expression with a quizzical look of her own, shrugging her shoulders stiff, not a single thought to the question. He quickly looked in front to see Ominis, hopefully, he might know instead then. His best friend had his eyes closed and arms crossed as if he was in deep thought….or in a deep sleep. Whatever the case was it was obvious he too was left in the dark like the rest of the class.

Being so deep in thought Sebastian hadn’t realized the sweat that started to form on his brow. The heat in this room got to him a little earlier than he expedited it to. It was almost suffocating and he had only been here for a couple of minutes.

“Nobody? Not a single soul has one idea as to why,” Sharp continued to ask, hoping for someone to at least try and spit out a wrong answer. However, only the sound of bubbling cauldrons and burning crackles from the flames answered him back.

“Amortentia,” the professor simply let out a heavy sigh that oozed with disappointment as he pushed himself off his desk to make his way around the class. Sebastian mentally facepalmed

Of course, February! Valentine's Day was in this blasted month.

“I only teach this potion with its antidote. So don’t get funny ideas for next week,” Sharp warned his students, pointing at every student in his room. “Every year a handful of you try to use a love potion on some sorry soul and every year they get in trouble. So you will know what's good for you if you have any sense.” He added before going into more detail about the potion itself.

He talked about how it was formed…the ingredients they would need…the order to brew. Sebastian heard the words.

Truly.

But as Sharp’s lecture rang on in the background Sebastian’s eyes wandered to his left. Y/N sat there looking up at their professor with half-closed eyelids, her long lashes hanging over her beautiful eyes. She rested her head on her closed fist, her body slightly turned to face Sebastian though her attention still faced Sharp. She thoughtlessly played with her hair, her expression almost dreamy as if she was openly lost in her mind. The air started to feel heavier with the murky haze that filled the room the longer he looked at her. He pulled at his collar as he noticed a dollop of sweat sliding down from Y/N’s collarbone into her blouse. Her cleavage taunting him.

The heat of the room practically boiling in him now with such an image of her.

“I’m bloody hot, are you?” Y/N asked in a hushed whisper as she attempted to fan herself, she glanced at Sebastion when she noted his stare.

“I always am..” He responded without hesitation.

Y/N rolled her eyes again as she had before class started, playful and casual. He wondered what she would look like if he was able to roll her eyes for a different reason. He imagined her leaning over their shared desk looking more disheveled than appropriate. Her pretty eyes rolling in the back of her head as she lets out a deep moan, her lips still forming a devious smile. The thought makes him feel a twitch below his belt as he realizes a small ache had been forming the instant he saw her today.

Sebastian had always had a crush on Y/N, this wasn’t exactly something new to him. There had been plenty of times he worked himself over just by looking at you. Though he would like to think that he would build himself over the entire day… definitely not in just 5 minutes.

“As you line up to smell the Amortentia in the cauldron on my desk you may notice the…. effects…of the potion. Once you leave the classroom they will subside since you haven’t drank the potion. This stuff is so strong, the smell alone can affect you.” Sharp informed the class.

Of course, the potion.

Sebastian awkwardly coughed as he stood up, thankful for his cloak. He was sure every boy in the class must be praising the heavy fabric if the potion was as strong as the professor said. Y/N, Sebastian, and Ominis made their way in line to smell the concoction, waiting their turn. Sebastian noticed that while a couple of people mentioned what they smelled, there were a few who kept that information to themselves. He wondered what it was that made them so quiet. Either way, the damned thing smelt different to each person for some reason. Wasn’t it just meant to make you fall in love with someone? If only he would have been able to pay attention to what Sharp had been saying but he had been a tad distracted by his partner.

Speaking of which, Y/N was the first of the little trio to stand in front of the rather old-looking cauldron. She closed her eyes as she let her hands help waft the smoke toward her. As she took a deep breath in, her eyes shot open as if she had recognized the smell almost instantly.

“What is it? What do you smell?” Sebastian asked with curiosity oozing from his voice.

“I smell…old books, burning candles, and butterbeer.” She said softly as she glanced at the two boys, a blush creeping up her ears as her eyes met Sebastian.

“How quaint.” Ominis commented through a grin as if he knew precisely who smelt like such a strange combination.

Sebastian didn’t think that could be the smell of love though he didn’t exactly know what he would say the scent of love would be like but definitely not old books. Perhaps floral like roses or sweet like cherries? Love in a bottle had to be stereotypical, it made the most sense to him.

Sebastian stepped up, pulling the lid up and letting the fumes wash over him. The mist of the potion overcame him as if he had just walked into a sauna. He felt an urge tingle from the tips of his toes to the very ends of his hair. A rush so strong in his body he could practically count his pulse from the zealous beats his heart made, throbbing in what felt like his throat.

Her.

He could only smell her.

He gulped trying to breathe in anything that wasn’t this potion's musk. The smell was sweet and heavy just like how he thought but it was more than he could handle. He could sink in the delight of it all as if he could be happily drowned in it. He imagined that this would be the very smell that could suffocate him while he was on his knees between your legs.

“Heaven” he blurted out carelessly as the thought of eating you out filled his mind.

“Very descriptive,” Ominis replied, helping Sebastian to get out of his head and back into reality.

“My thoughts exactly. What does heaven even smell like? That could be anything” Y/N asked with a furrowed brow.

Sebastian paused, trying to put into words what the woman in front of him smelt like. It was hard to put into words. The smell was more like flashes of constant memories that reminded him of Y/N rather than what she smelt like every day.

He could smell the rain, the petrichor that radiates from the grass; the image of you running in the storm with him, white blouse drenched and clinging to your chest, raindrops dripping from your hair, the sound of your laughter. What a day that had been, so carefree, so full of joy for just being in the mommet. He kept that memory close to him; a loop he would play when his thoughts went to dark and dreary places.

In the next instant, he could smell the scorch marks from flames nipping at the cobblestone in the undercroft. The heavy smoke poisoned his lungs and filled his mind with such intoxication over the past. The day he had taught you confringo lingering in the back of his mind.

It had been one of the first times he had gotten close to you.

The memory of being pressed against your back, Sebastian’s face mere inches from your soft hair-your locks tickling the tip of his nose. His hand had been wrapped around your wrist as he helped with your wand movements. You had looked at him so innocently then, putting all your faith in him even though you had barely known each other. He could still see the small smudge of soot smudged on your cheek and the way you looked up at him with such big eyes for guidance.

The memory had only gotten sweeter like wine after seeing you master his spell. Seeing you cast it with ease, power, and confidence; that alone would always send shivers down his spine amid battle. He would always be a part of you when you cast that spell…forever.

The smell warped into something else entirely, putting him off guard until he was able to realize the mystery aroma was incense: warm, woody, and thick. It was the same kind that Professor Onai used in her classroom the day she taught palmistry. He had held your hands that day, his large hands engulfing yours in warmth. It had been the perfect excuse to touch you then, so freely and openly with everyone watching. His fingers brushed against your skin softly, his touch could barely be described as a graze but the tension was more than palpable. He had read your palm that day, hoping he could see himself in your loveline. He believes that he did. Even if he didn’t he would find a way to change it to make it so.

“Well, it's certainly not butterbeer,” Sebastian finally responded, putting himself back in the present.

Y/N blushed, flustered by the comment before whacking him on his shoulder. “I should have never told you,” she responded in a huff, making her way back to their desk.

Sebastian followed, chuckling at her reaction but also thankful he was able to avoid having to explain what heaven smells like.

“Does anyone want to know what it smells like to me?” Ominis asked himself as he stood in front of the cauldron alone; the sarcasm and annoyance drowning his words as he found his way back to his desk. Professor Sharp stood before the classroom, waiting for everyone to get their bearings again.

“It seems like some of you are rather open to telling everyone what you find most attractive…that or just the smell of the person you seem to find yourself in a new entanglement in with this week..how brave of you,” Sharp commented with what must be his attempt at an amused grin before going back to his solemn state.

Sebastian glanced at Y/N, wondering who it was for her. Who smelt like old books and could still have her head over heels for them? She had never even brought up liking a person before. His hands formed into fists on the desk, images flashing of someone else being with her the way he daydreamed. He couldn’t even bear the thought and had to quickly stop before he lost himself.

He heard Professor Sharp go into further detail about the potion before teaching how to make the antidote for amortentia. At least that was as much as Sebastian could recall, he knows that was the subject but simply couldn’t tell you how to make the damned thing. His attention was more on you than the class itself. He needed to get out of this classroom and fast before he reached his limits. Even with the cauldron covered the smell seeped and filled the classroom, working its magic on everyone in it. He couldn’t even imagine how he would be if he actually drank it. He understands why people who had been under its effects would practically throw themselves at the person in question now.

You sat there a complete tease and were none the wiser. The way you grabbed onto your skirt from your thigh, hiking up the fabric higher than it was before. He wanted nothing more than to put his hand under the hem and pull it up high until he got a good view of you bent over this very desk. He wanted to push you against the hardwood and pull your hair. He wanted to devour you in front of everyone, to lose himself in you and all that was good. Sebastian loosened his tie, the small material barely knotted as he tried to control his breath.

“That’s all there is to teach. By the end of class, I expect two adequate potions…the Amortentia and the cure from each table. You may begin.” Sharp directed as he made his way to his desk in the back of the room.

There was a wave of silence that crashed over the classroom as the students side-eyed each other. It would seem that no one had paid attention to Sharp’s well-planned and eloquent lecture on brewing love potions. The professor didn’t seem to give it any mind though, he was too involved with whatever he was writing. Sebastian couldn’t imagine that the man was clueless about the tension in the room though. Perhaps he was secretly amused that this situation of all things was the only way he was able to make the classroom stunned with silence.

“Would you be upset with me if I told you, I have no idea how to brew this potion,” Sebastian decided to tell Y/N outright. There was no point in pretending; she would see through him anyways if he tried.

She suppressed a chuckle in response as she stood up and pointed him in the direction of the board. “Not at all. Luckily for us, the instructions are on the board. Come on, let's get the ingredients.” She explained as she stood up and waved him over to follow her. He leaped out of his seat, quick and careless, almost like he was a dog who was taunted by the prospect of a treat. Thoughts of being alone with Y/N in the supply closet made his heart race to deadly rhythms and his palms slightly sweaty. He couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild with fantasies of what could transpire in such a small enclosed space.

The thought of your soft thighs wrapped around his waist while he got to have handfuls of your ass to keep you steady. Messy, hungry kisses that vibrated with moans. Your hands tussled in his hair or roaming up and down his chest. He could feel himself twitch every time he imagined you bouncing up and down against him, grinding him into pure bliss.

Merlin. Could he handle himself with such a temptation of being with you in such a place?

Each step he took across the classroom felt like an eternity, his body growing with anticipation that coursed through his veins like wildfire. His eyes were glued to the sway of your hips as you led the way.

When they finally reached the door, Sebastian fumbled with the handle, hands almost shaking as his mind was still lost in the realm of his fantasies. He could practically hear you screaming his name at this moment. The sound looped over and over again in his head, short-circuiting his brain until he was able to hear a click. The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit space filled with shelves of potions ingredients, and other various supplies.

Sebastian stepped in behind you, trying to contain his desires while his body betrayed him, buzzing in hopeful anticipation of even just being grazed by you. A single touch would be enough to end his suffering at this point. The air felt heavy with scents of herbs that mixed in wonderfully with the smell of you, further fueling his senses.

“So…heaven you said.” Y/N awkwardly commented as she began to gather the required ingredients. Pulled out of his wicked daydreams Sebastian glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. “That is indeed what I said.”

“Are you ever going to elaborate on that?”

Sebastian stared at the shelves, trying to look lost. Shifting his weight back and forth as his hands skimmed the ingredients that were laid out in front of him. “Why so curious?”

“Well, I told you mine… it's only fair.”

“Have I ever been known to be fair?” Sebastian asked as he paused and looked down at you. You looked up at him sweetly, eyes big and bright, cheeks flushed, lips slightly apart. A tempting beautiful picture. He gulped down the need to jump you right then and there. A sad excuse for keeping his gentlemanly composure.

“Are you going to make me beg?” she asked softly.

Sebastian almost fainted. You? Begging him? Suddenly the thought of you on your knees in front of him flashed through his mind. He wondered just how he could make you beg. What filthy pleas could be heard from your lips? How desperate could you be for him? Was it anything like how he was for you now? He got lost in your beautiful eyes as he wondered.

“Would you beg for me?” his voice barely above a whisper as he asked her.

Y/N’s eyes grew wide, her cheeks turning into a deep shade of crimson. Sebastian watched as she stood there a mixture of what looked like mortification and vulnerability washing over her. As Sebastian took a step closer to her he saw how her blush intensified. Spreading like a delicate watercolor painting, the color seeped from her cheeks and extended to the tips of her ears…even down below under her blouse. He wondered how far her blush went.

“D-Don’t play with me, Sebastian,” Y/N replied as she tried to regain her composure. She faced the shelves once more, letting her hands touch anything that was in front of her.

“I would never.” He tried to follow her actions, hoping she didn’t notice how the last minute of their interaction would be the start of his dreams for the next month.

She scoffed at his response. “I know you’re just trying to deflect from the question. Why so secretive? Do you have a crush on someone and are just too embarrassed by it? You know I wouldn’t tell a soul.” she rambled as she picked up a mysterious vial. She looked at it as if she was more interested in the contents inside of it than the conversation but Sebastian could see through her act.

“Crush? I’m afraid it's gotten far past that.” Sebastian replied, freezing Y/N in her tracts if only for a moment. She placed the vial back in its rightful spot before reaching for another random object, much like Sebastian did in hopes of keeping him grounded in the situation. How far should he push this? Should he let the smell of this damned potion, the bottled intoxication of the girl in front of him, break down any walls he had built up in hopes that she would never know he was madly in love with her?

Their hands brushed against each other, sending a shock down to his toes that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The innocent act that was nothing but a soft caress, fanned the flames that were in him to dangerous heights, his yearning for her unbearable

“She’s bewitched me. Hexed me even…I’m sure of it.” He continued to say as he looked down at her. His hand frozen in his place against hers. If he moved now, there would be no grace in his actions. It was his last attempt at trying to keep himself composed.

He heard Y/N’s breath hitch in her throat.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked, giving her an escape but hoping she wouldn’t take it. She only nodded her head in response, unable to speak from the tension that’s now bubbled over in the small closet they were in.

“I smell the rain,” He began to say as he turned to face her.

“I smell fire” He took a step towards Y/N, closing the small gap.

“I smell incense.” His hands intertangled in yours, as he took a step forward, forcing you against the door, making sure no one could interrupt them. Your hands were well above you now as his fists pinned you in place.

“I smell you,” it barely came out as a whisper against the nape of your neck. “It’s all I can smell, even now. It suffocates me. Taunting me with ideas,” he continued, his voice low and dark. “Would you let me do those things to you?” He asked, moving his gaze so he could look at Y/N.

She looked like every fantasy he ever had of her. Under him, panting, wide-eyed, and flushed. He would keep this memory close to him, he knew instantly. Keep this image of her as nothing more than a self-indulgent treat for every night before he went to sleep.

“Is this when I should beg Seb?” Y/N let out in a single heavy breath.

He let out a groan at the sound of her nickname for him, his head falling to her shoulder so he could melt into her.

Fuck

Just hearing her say his name like that made his situation feel painful, making him harder than he ever had been in his entire life. He was scared to find out what would come of himself if he didn’t find a release soon.

“Do I have to beg to get my ingredients?” Ominis could be heard as he pounded on the door causing both Sebastian and Y/N to jump to the opposite side of the closet. Their friend walked into the small room, happy to be blind for once so that he didn’t have to see the sorry state the two were in.

“Congratulations on finding out you two are in fact in love with each other. The rest of the school has been waiting.” Ominis stated with annoyance. “Now can you grab me the things I need?”

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animasola86 · 4 months

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Come back to bed, baby!

Notes: This is a continuation of It is that time again, darling - set about a year later.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut // Words: 10.1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: Dad!Seb is back and he actually managed to put his breeding kink to good use. Or did he?

WARNINGS: NSFW! MDNI! Vague mentions of pregnancy, birth and undefined postnatal aches (bedridden reader). Angst and guilt and PTSD. Dirty talk and marital sex (including oral and vaginal sex and a special breeding kink)! Also babies and breastfeeding. Proceed at your own risk!

Come back to bed, baby.

“Come back to bed,” you whisper with a sigh as you look from your finally sleeping twin babies to the man pacing the little room. Sebastian slips his hand through his already messy hair and messes it up even more, a concentrated, serious expression contorting his handsome features.

He throws you a slightly pained look and exhales loudly. “It's not going to work,” he mutters under his breath, furrowing his brows, now pushing both hands through his hair.

“Sebastian,” you whisper and beckon him closer, your arms outstretched as you shift on the bed. Your babies lie in their crib next to you, breathing deep and peacefully, completely oblivious to their anxious father.

He finally listens to you and sits on the edge of the bed, gently grabbing your extended hand and cradling it between his long fingers carefully. You share a deep gaze, a soft unspoken understanding of your situation.

When the twins were born about two months ago, it hasn't been easy on you, and you were forced to spend your days in bed ever since until your body would finally fully recover.

Even though the birth of Beatrice and Bernie (you luckily could convince your eager husband to drop the name Bartholomew before your baby boy was born) has brought two new joys into his troubled life, he has been conflicted ever since because despite having birthed him a pair of twins before, this time it has really taken a toll on you – and in typical Sebastian fashion, he blamed himself for putting those children into you in the first place.

Fortunately it wasn't as bad that you had to stay in St. Mungo's, but being at home, bedridden, only able to nurture your newborns while you were barely able to look after Benjamin, Archie and Anne, hasn't been easy on either of you. And on top of that, your combined money resources started to dwindle now that your firstborns were to attend Hogwarts in a few months.

Sebastian has taken two leaves from his job as Professor for Magical Theory since the two of you had decided to try for another child: one to spend entire weeks holed up with you in bed, using every waking minute to successfully fill you with his seed, and one right before you had given birth to your new twins, which has been prolonged due to the unfortunate circumstances of their birth and what it had done to your body.

But the most unfortunate thing about it all was the fact that Headmaster Black refused to properly pay him for his absence, despite his eager attempts to somehow work from home and still try to teach his students – and not even Professor Weasley had been able to convince the stubborn man to change his mind: if Sebastian wasn't able to teach and be present while doing so, he was not going to get paid, end of story.

You usually didn't need much money. Living in Aranshire, you had a loving community around you, always willing to help, be it with babysitting or providing you with food, yet the last winter had been rough on your little hamlet, and your own little garden had suffered greatly, despite all your attempts to save it with magic.

The biggest issue were the needed supplies Benjamin and Archie were to bring to Hogwarts, and even the second-hand options didn't come cheap. Yet you never despaired, even though Sebastian became more worried by the hour, the lines on his forehead deepening every day.

“We'll manage,” you whisper as you squeeze his hand lightly, tugging at it to tell him to come closer. He complies and climbs into bed with you, carefully settling his long body next to yours to not hurt you more.

You've told him a lot of times that you weren't hurting (too much) and that you needed him to cuddle you properly, but he has become a little wary whenever you would wince slightly and let out a groan. You've tried to be brave for him, but he quickly saw through your charades. You were never able to hide anything from him.

He inhales deeply and nestles beside you, his head resting on your shoulder as he gently wraps one arm around your body and pulls you against him, his touches so much more careful than you were used to.

You can barely remember the times when he would just grab you by the waist and drag you towards him, or when he held you by the hips, his fingers bruising your skin, while he would pound into you relentlessly. You even missed the spanking and choking you used to let him indulge in whenever he convinced you to by looking at you out of those damn puppy dog eyes. By Merlin, you missed seeing the mischievous spark inside his warm brown eyes the most.

It wasn't that you didn't have sex any more. Even during your pregnancy you couldn't stay away from each other for long, always needing the other close, very close even, but the bigger and rounder you got, the more careful he became until he barely dared touching you at all, afraid to hurt you or your precious cargo. And after your body failed to recover from the strain of carrying and birthing two very proper children, he downright refused to put you in harm's way, especially if it was him who might cause you said harm.

Over the last weeks you were able to convince him that you felt better, and indeed you did, even though you still felt weak whenever you had to leave your bed – which was to expected from lying there all day and all night, you told him. Of course you knew why he was so concerned, and it pained you more to have him go through the anxiety of seeing a loved one struggling than it pained you to breathe properly.

You raise a hand and try to flatten his messy locks before you give up and simply stroke his head. He breathes deeply against you as if the weight of the world would be on his broad shoulders. It certainly feels like it to him, no matter how often you'd tell him that you will be fine, that everything will be fine again.

“I could get a job,” you say after a long moment of listening to his and your babies' soft breathing, the warmth of his body comforting you, almost drowning out your worries.

He shakes his head instantly. “No, you have to focus on getting better again,” he mumbles into your chest, his hand moving up and down your arm. “I'll find a way to get paid again. There has to be a way! Just because I decided to stay home after my babies' birth... it's not fair... what horrible times we live in...” he continues, mumbling against you, his hot breath grazing your skin where your nightgown has slipped down slightly.

“I could knit or... weave or whatever else these ladies here do,” you say, ignoring his objections. “Or I can learn to make things knit themselves, and then we could sell what I made...”

He scoffs lightly, the sound a rare one these days. “No offence, darling, but you really aren't particularly dexterous when it comes to making things. No one wants to buy a pair of mismatched socks fit for a troll or a house-elf, not even house-elves would want to be given that...”

“I'm sure there's a market for it!” you say with mock-indignation before you laugh softly, the motion causing a deep rooted pain to jerk through your lower body. He notices your wince before you do and quickly leans up to place a warm hand on your stomach, looking at you with more worry lines etched into his face.

“You need to get healthy again first,” he whispers, almost pleadingly as he brings his face closer to yours, your noses touching as you feel his hot breath on your lips. “I need you to get healthy again.”

You inhale deeply and gently grab his chin, rubbing your thumb over the stubble that has gotten more over the last weeks. “I'm fine,” you tell him and close the distance between the two of you when you press your lips to his, savouring those sweet little moments where you can feel him close to you, each kiss reminding you of all those years you spent with each other, all the hardships you conquered, all the nights (and days) you had become one when your bodies moulded together in perfect harmony.

He leans back slightly, his lips ghosting yours as his dark eyes bore into your own. “Don't lie to me,” he says quietly, with a hard edge to his usually soft voice.

You hold his gaze. “I will be fine,” you correct yourself and pull his face to yours once more, needing to kiss him and forget about the aches of your body. He exhales loudly against you, but then shifts beside you and gently cups your face with his big hands as he kisses you back softly, still watching you closely out of half-lidded eyes.

You lean into his touch and close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his warm lips, his even warmer tongue as he slips it into your mouth, and his hot breath that always made you feel light-headed. Your fingers scrape over his stubble, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine as a quiet moan escapes your throat.

He leans back at the sound and your eyelids flutter open as you look at him with your lips tingling. There it is, the fire burning in his eyes, the desire to coax even more noises out of you. Despite not being able to touch you properly, he never fails to let you know how much he wants you, how much he adores you and cherishes you and desires you.

How much he wants to ravish and devour you if only he could.

You see him looking towards the crib where your babies still sleep peacefully. It had taken you three children to finally get the hang of how to properly make a baby fall asleep, though it certainly helped that Beatrice and Bernie seemed to be connected even after having shared the same womb. You sometimes find them lying together holding each other's tiny hands, and the sight always brings tears of joy into your eyes, making you forget everything else their birth brought upon you.

Sebastian's eyes linger on them for a moment longer, before he looks back at you, the fire still burning in his brown irises. And then a smirk grazes his lips, and you stare at it longer than you should, savouring the rare sight.

You are tempted to pull him back for another kiss, but then he gently cradles your head and makes you lie down again before he cuddles close to you, pulling your body half-way onto his as he presses his front against your rear. You shift against him, turning your head towards him. His arms are around you as he brings his face close to your ear, his breath ghosting your skin.

“Do you think they can hear us?” he whispers softly, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through your very core, coaxing a soft whimper out of you.

You shake your head, knowing that a troll could storm your house and your twins would still sleep through it. They'd only wake when they would be hungry, and luckily they had a set schedule, giving you a few more hours of peace, though the same couldn't be said about your breasts if you've read the look in your husband's eyes correctly.

As if willing your suspicions to life, you feel his hands moving under the hem of your nightgown, confidently sliding over your stomach and up to your plump mounds. His big hands barely fit around them any more, but it doesn't stop him from giving them the proper care they need. You lean against him and inhale deeply, licking your lips as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples carefully.

Despite his no-sex policy and giving extra care to not put a strain on your body, he still sneaks in the occasional grope as his slight obsession with your breasts never left his lust-filled mind. He adored them when you were a teenager with not enough flesh to fill out any proper dress, and he adored them more and more with every child you've given him and every gram of extra fat those same children have gifted you.

And you learned to crave his careful touches, the tender and the rough ones, even though the latter have become so scarce. With his arms snaked around your body, he fondles your soft flesh gently, rubbing his palms over it and rolling your sensitive buds between his fingers until they are hard and almost leaking. You take a shuddering breath as he leans his forehead against your ear and presses his lips to your neck, his tongue gliding over your pulse until he hums softly when he can feel your rapid heartbeat vibrating against him.

“Imagine,” he says quietly between kissing and licking your neck, while he keeps massaging your breasts with careful fingers, “the things we could do... with Ben and Archie in Hogwarts, and Anne with Edgar, and the twins sleeping peacefully...”

A soft moan escapes you. “I do that, every day,” you confess just as quietly. “It keeps me sane while I lie here... waiting to get better... waiting for you to push me into the bed again, bury me under your body as you bury yourself into me...”

He exhales loudly against you, the grip of his hands getting a little firmer as he grazes his teeth over your pulse. You shiver. “You mean when I bury my cock into your pussy,” he repeats with a dark chuckle. “You've gone soft on me over the last months. Where's that dirty mouth of yours?”

You give him a tiny smirk. “I have innocent babies around me all the time, I don't want their first word to be something like... that...”

He snickers against you. “Come on, these are British kids, they'll learn to talk like that soon enough anyway. They'll say cunt as if they'd be talking about the weather... Don't worry about them.”

You roll your eyes, inhaling deeply to push your chest into his hands as he's stopped groping you for a moment. “So what are you imagining while you lie next to me, unable to do the things you want to do?” you whisper as you turn your head to him, meeting his heated gaze.

He resumes his fondling, pinching your hard nipples almost a little too rough now. You take a sharp breath, and he stops for a second, but then continues nonetheless, seeing the blissful spark in your eyes.

“Oh, so many things... most of all I want to see you come undone in front of me, I want your eyes to roll back and your lips to part for those soft noises to come out and your face to contort in nothing but pure ecstasy. I want to see your body convulsing in pleasure after I rub you or finger you or lick you or fuck you...” He sighs and closes his eyes for a second, surely picturing the things he's just told you.

You let out a soft whimper. “I'd love to feel weightless again,” you then admit. “Floating so high it will rival any broom flight. I want to feel you twitching inside me, your hips jerking against me as you push so deep you'd prod my womb, and I want you to fill –”

He stills his movements and exhales almost angrily. Your eyes flutter open as you watch him with a frown. “No,” he says quietly and stares back towards the crib, slowly withdrawing his warm hands from your slightly aching breasts. “I... I don't think I can do that... ever again,” he whispers barely audible when his eyes wander back to your body, lingering on your lower half where the dull pain hums deep within. “I can't bear the thought of hurting you again, of making you go through all of that again... It was my seed that did this to you... You're in this bed because of me...”

“Sebastian!” you say almost sternly as you've had this conversation many times before. “I told you, it's alright. Look at your babies, they are as healthy as can be, and I will be too. I am here, aren't I? You heard the healer, it could have been so much worse, but it wasn't! I'm still here!” You grab his chin and make him look at you. “We've both wanted this, I wanted this, and believe me, I will do it again!”

“No, you won't! I can't lose you!” he pleads and presses his lips together, his eyes wandering away again.

The turmoil is etched deep into his features, and it breaks your heart seeing him like this. You know he wanted to add a “too”, and it hangs between you like a dark cloud of a past you both tried to work through, but never actually succeeded to do so. So many years after losing his sister it was still hurting him, and it hurt you even more not being able to help him through the pain. You've tried, everything, but it was a black spot on his soul that would never go away.

“You won't lose me,” you say softly, waiting for him to look back at you. When he does, you smile at him. “I'll always be here. I promised you, and I always keep my promises, you know that! I gave you five healthy children and I would have given you more. But I can't have you worrying so much, you know it'll only destroy you. And I need you, more than ever, all of you.” You pull his chin towards you and press your lips to his. “Even your seed in my womb,” you add in a low whisper against his mouth.

He furrows his brows despite your consoling words. It takes him a moment to consider them before he exhales deeply, his breath hot on your skin. “We'll have to be extra careful then, from now on, you know that, right? And I'll never stop worrying, you know that's part of my charm.” You smirk darkly at that, and you see the corner of his lips twitching slightly too. “But I have to admit, I missed filling you up to the brim...”

You laugh quietly, forcing yourself not to wince under the motion. “I missed that too... Do you remember those weeks we spent in bed? Weeks! It was all a blur at the end but I've never felt so exhilarated, so full, so weak and yet so elated to hopefully walk out of it carrying your child. Well, even if walking was not an option after all of that...”

He chuckles softly. “Oh, I always think back to that...” he purrs against your lips. “You've never looked better than with my seed seeping out of your pussy...”

“And all the positions we tried?” you go on, smiling happily as you think back, leaning your forehead against his. “I didn't even know half of them. But leave it to my bookish husband to teach me something while trying to hold his cum inside me...”

He smirks wider, tilting his head to kiss you gently. “And you know, there's even more we could try once you're feeling better,” he whispers between kisses before his lips move along your face back to your neck. Then his tone gets a little darker. “There's so much I still want to experience with you.”

“And you will,” you whisper back, grabbing his hair as he starts nibbling on your sensitive skin. “I'm here for it, for all of it. For you,” you add and press your lips to the top of his head.

He sighs contently and wraps his arms around you carefully as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath a little jagged as you feel his shoulders shake slightly. You swallow hard and rub his back when you can feel his tears dripping onto your skin.

Taking a shuddering breath yourself, you lie in each other's embrace for a long moment as you hold him as tightly as you can until he's calmed down again. Nuzzling your nose into his soft hair, you fill your nostrils with his scent while his warmth seeps into your body, relaxing the soreness you feel within.

“Sebastian,” you whisper quietly after yet another moment as he just lies in your arms, breathing deeply. “Let's make love tonight...”

He stirs slightly and slowly turns his face to you, his cheeks red and wet, and his eyes puffy, but on his lips you find that wicked smirk you've always loved about him. “What was that?” he asks hoarsely, his eyes boring into yours.

You return the smirk and raise a hand to gently wipe at his cheek. “I want you to put your cock into my pussy...” you whisper, blushing deeply.

He laughs softly and leans up to claim your lips for a heated kiss. You gasp against him, and when you do, he draws away and watches you closely. “Are you sure? Do you really feel up for it? I don't want to hurt you...”

You sigh and grab the back of his neck. “You won't. But I can't do much, you'll have to do all the work...” you tell him, chewing on your lips.

His smirk grows wider. “Not a problem!” he says with a chuckle. “No problem at all! Let me handle it, darling,” he adds excitedly and kisses you again, his hands back down at the hem of your nightgown to slowly push it up your body until he gently pulls it over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

He follows suit quickly, and you can only blink a few times, and he's suddenly naked next to you, his warm skin pressing against yours. His eyes roam your body for a long moment before he moves his hands carefully over your skin, starting from your hips upwards until he's back to fondling your breasts.

You let out a soft whimper and lick your lips as you watch him, shifting beside him until he pushes you gently into the mattress to stop you from moving. “Just relax,” he tells you quietly, smiling up at you as he lowers his head towards your tender chest. You inhale deeply and move right against his eager mouth as he closes his lips around your left breast, gently flicking his tongue against the hard bud.

Biting your lip, you throw a cautious glance towards your sleeping babies, but they are still breathing softly, tucked in and unaware of their parents' marital activities. When you look back at Sebastian, his eyes meet yours, and your cheeks warm up under the intensity of his gaze as he suckles softly on your sensitive mound.

The sight sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat pooling between your legs, the warmth even reaching the dully thrumming ache that binds you to the bed. Your hand moves down to stroke his hair as he moves his own to your right breast to give it the same attention he gives the other one as his long fingers knead your soft flesh carefully before he becomes a little bit more daring and pinches your nipple at the same time as he grazes his teeth over the one in his mouth.

You gasp and squirm slightly, your lips parting to let a soft moan escape you. His eyes remain on you as if he still worries about hurting you, but you only grip his hair tighter and push his head downwards, away from your breasts to a place you really need him. He complies a little reluctantly, licking and kissing your plump mounds and hard nipples as if saying goodbye to them before he moves his lips down between them until he presses his mouth to your stomach softly.

There he rests his head for a moment, his rough cheek on your abdomen as he listens into you like he has done every time you were pregnant with his children. Your fingers dig through his locks, gently caressing his scalp, and you feel him purring against you. His hot breath grazes your skin as he exhales loudly.

He leans up then, his eyes on you. “Do you really want this?” he asks quietly, worry etched into his face.

You nod, your fingers moving down to trail the line of his jaw, scraping over his beard, until you push your index finger against his bottom lip. “I want you,” you say softly and watch with reddening cheeks how he leans in and pulls your finger between his teeth, his tongue circling it eagerly as he sucks on it with his eyes sparkling.

When he releases it with a wet pop, he grabs your hand and plants more kisses on it until he presses his lips to the ring on your finger. “Anything for you, Mrs Sallow,” he tells you hoarsely and gives you an almost coy smile as he lets go of your hand and places it carefully on your stomach.

He then moves down and settles right between your legs, firmly pushing them apart with his elbows. His hot kisses on your hipbones make you whimper softly as you shift against him until his big hands rest on your thighs to hold you down gently. He moves his lips over your mound and straight to the throbbing bundle of nerves, his eyes wandering back up to you as he starts to suck on your clit.

You twitch against him, wincing slightly as the motion causes something to stir within you. He pauses slightly, holding your gaze, but you just smile at him bravely, hoping to encourage him to keep going. He does, eventually, his tongue flicking against your sensitive nub as he breathes loudly into the soft hint of hair above it. His hands rub over your thighs, his thumbs teasing at the insides as he keeps lapping at your sensitive skin, humming softly against it which in turn coaxes those sweet sounds out of your throat.

You close your eyes and lean your head into the pillow, trying to relax under his ministrations, when in reality you feel the tension building up in your stomach as your walls start clenching and unclenching needily. He seems to sense the contractions of your body and moves one of his hands along the inside of your thigh until you can feel his fingertips brushing against your folds, gently stroking your outer labia as he keeps sucking on your clit, his stubble adding to the friction that you so desperately try to chase.

A deep moan escapes you as he pulls the throbbing nub between his teeth at the same time as he sinks his finger into your slit, rubbing up and down through your slick before he pushes carefully against your entrance. When your eyes flutter open, his heated gaze is on you as he stills his movements against your clit and presses his finger slowly into your eager pussy, so much more gentle than he usually does it. He moves it around in teasing circles, literally testing the waters as he stretches your entrance slightly.

You take deep breaths, licking your lips, your chest rising and falling faster. You see and feel him swallowing against you before he pushes his digit deeper, slowly, ever so slowly, opening your tight channel. He halts the motion when he is knuckle deep in you, his fingertip pressing gently against your walls before he curls his finger slightly, the tiny movement causing you to gasp and twitch against him.

He brings his attention back to your throbbing nub as he keeps licking it with rough strokes of his tongue while he moves his finger within you, slowly in and out, over and over again, and it's the steady rhythm that drives you insane with need. You feel your walls tightening around him, yet before the tension eases, he slips his finger out, but only to push two of them into you now. You groan softly at the stretch and thrash your head back slightly as he starts pushing them in and out faster until he moves against you relentlessly.

Watching you from under his lashes, he leans back and replaces his mouth with his free hand, rubbing fast and tight circles around your clit while he fingers you with reckless abandon. You moan and whimper, the tension growing almost unbearable before it suddenly explodes into a bright flash of light, making stars dance behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut under the sensation, the low thrumming in your womb surprisingly only adding to the feeling of pure bliss as you succumb to his eager touches.

You come around his fingers, your hips jerking upwards as your body convulses, your lips parting to let a soft cry fall from them. While you still feel the tremors of your orgasm, you barely feel him pulling away from you until you feel and taste your own slick on his lips as he pushes his mouth against yours.

Grabbing his hair with a shaking hand, you kiss him back hungrily, your moans swallowed by his tongue as he presses it against your own. He rests on his arms, careful not to put any weight on your body as he hovers above you, his knees caging you in while his hard erection lies eagerly twitching on your stomach.

You meet his gaze during the soft wrestle of your tongues, and after a long moment, he leans away, giving you another peck, before he nods wordlessly and sits back on his knees to gently pull your legs out from beneath him and rests them on his thighs. You go a step further and carefully wrap them around his waist as you watch him breathlessly.

Yet before he brings his cock even in the vicinity of your pussy, he freezes, and you see a dark shadow crossing his features as he looks away for a moment. Only a few seconds later, he raises his hand and moves his fingers, guiding his magic through the air to open the top drawer of your night-stand before a small vial floats out of it and right into his big palm. He turns it between his long fingers and frowns.

“Will this still work?” he then asks hoarsely, looking at you with deep lines on his forehead as he shows you the contraceptive potion. “It's quite old, isn't it?”

You throw him a warm smile before you take a shuddering breath, still too worked up to breathe properly. “It'll be fine. I once drank a Wiggenweld potion I found in an old cave and it was fine. Come on, let me take it,” you whisper and hold out your hand.

He watches you with a raised eyebrow but then hands you the small vial, watching you cautiously as you uncork it and down it in one go, the warmth of the liquid settling in your stomach immediately as it magical properties spread through your body. Closing your eyes to breathe against the slightly bitter taste, you give him back the empty flask which he discards quickly.

You see him opening his mouth but before he can voice his concern once more, you smile at him. “I'm fine. Please, can we continue? I really need your cock right now...”

He inhales sharply before the slight shadow of a smirk graces his lips. Without another word, he puts one hand around his length and one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit once more for good measure to make your thighs twitch against him before he swipes his tip through your wet folds and then slowly pushes against your entrance.

You brace for his intrusion but as soon as he sinks his tip into you, you moan softly and lean your head back, your hands falling to your sides while you grip the bedsheets as tightly as your pussy grips him. He moves his hips further until he bottoms out inside you, his entire length buried deep within, prodding at your cervix. As he lets you adjust to his size, you feel blissfully full, smiling softly as you remember the countless times he's filled you out like this before.

He leans back down on his arms and slowly raises his hips, pushing your legs up slightly as he watches you closely. Your hands move to his wrists as you hold onto him, your eyes wandering over his face, trying to convey just how fine you feel. The look in his eyes is one of concern and concentration, and you can only imagine how hard he is fighting his natural instincts to fuck you senseless right now.

You cross your feet behind his back and gently grind your hips against him, giving him the go to start moving. He doesn't hesitate long, but the motions of his hips are deliberate, slow, careful, as he pulls out slightly to push back in, back and forth, in and out, his pace contrasting his heavy breaths. He is too considerate for his own good, and even though you admire him for his strength to hold back on your account, you want nothing more than to have him pound into you at the same pace as he has done countless times before.

You inhale deeply and close your eyes, remembering how he used to fuck you, with his hands gripping your hips or with his body flush on top of yours, pinning you to the bed as he ruts his hips against you, be it with his eyes on you or from behind with his hot breaths in your ear. You moan softly as the memories alone make your walls clench around him.

He seems to understand your need now and starts moving faster, his breaths strained as he grips the bedsheets next to your hips, still too anxious to touch you properly. Your hands move up his arms, and as you feel his tense muscles, you rub them softly. While he pushes his pelvis harder against you, slipping his cock in and out faster with your walls assisting him in pulling him deeper with each thrust, your eyes flutter open and you meet his heated gaze.

“I love you,” you mouth between soft whimpers, and he holds your gaze with dark eyes before he suddenly halts his motions and leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours, and it's you who claims his mouth for a much needed kiss as you grab the back of his neck with both hands, pulling him towards you before he almost looses his balance and threatens to fall on top of you.

Yet it is exactly what you want, and you keep pulling him despite his obvious resistance. He looks at you, slightly out of breath, as if asking for permission, but you only wrap your arms and legs tighter around him until his heavy body is lying on yours, pushing you gently into the bed while his warmth seeps through your skin, calming the initial turmoil within you.

He captures your lips for another kiss as he starts moving his hips against you once more, the new angle giving him the opportunity to really rut into you, and each thrust sends shivers down your spine and rocks your body beneath him. You moan into his mouth while he cradles your head between his arms as he leans on his elbows, taking some of his weight off you.

Your hands hold onto his broad back, your fingernails sinking into his skin before you scratch them over it as he pushes hard and fast into you, every time hitting that sweet spot deep within, and you cry out against him, your noises muffled by his tongue pressing into your mouth. The tension builds as rapidly as he moves his cock inside your tight channel, and while he still pounds into you with almost desperate abandon, you come around him with a force that makes your entire body shudder and twitch beneath him.

The deep rooted ache in your stomach is silenced by the orgasm crashing through you, and for the first time in a long while you feel like yourself again, weightless and elated, happy in his embrace, happy with your body as it convulses as you want it to convulse: in sheer bliss and not uncontrollable bouts of pain. You melt into the sensation and are barely able to kiss him as his movements become even more erratic.

You groan against him, his heavy breaths mingling with yours, causing you to feel light-headed and dizzy, but in the best way possible, as you feel him thrusting into you, the tension in his body a telltale sign that he's close to climaxing as well. He is lost in the moment, leaning his forehead against yours, but before he gives you that final thrust, the tiniest of hesitations makes him freeze for a second.

You're quick to grab his face and look deep into his eyes before you whisper breathlessly: “Come inside me. Please. It's going to be alright...”

You see his lips moving, but no sounds come out, and instead he resumes rutting into you, frantically, definitely desperately, before he finally groans loudly and pushes hard into you, his tight balls pressing against your arse as he starts twitching inside you, emptying himself completely as thick ropes of cum shoot into your womb, the feeling as familiar as the sight above you. You caress his cheeks through his release before he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands move to his back, and you rub it softly, soothing the red lines you left on his skin, as you hold him in your embrace while he slowly relaxes against you, his cock still throbbing inside you, your walls tight around him as if to embrace him as well, as if to welcome him back, eager to not let him go just yet.

Your heavy breaths ease slowly, and you close your eyes as you nuzzle your nose into his hair, relaxing beneath him. Yet when he suddenly stirs, his hips moving upwards as he gently tries to unwrap your legs from around his waist, you grab his shoulders and, against the ache in your thighs, keep your legs crossed behind his back. “Stay,” you whisper hoarsely. “Please...”

He lifts his head slightly and looks at you, his eyes wandering over your flushed face. You hold his gaze before you pull him towards you to claim his mouth. The kiss is lazy and comforting, coaxing him back into lying down on you, slipping his cock back in all the way as he breathes loudly against you. You hold him and kiss him, savouring his warmth for as long as you can.

“How do you feel?” he asks between kisses, his voice low and as hoarse as yours as it vibrates through your head.

“Better,” you reply, pressing your lips to his cheek. “So much better.” And it's true. With his weight on you, the pain within dulls to a barely there throbbing. “You know, I think all I needed to recover was your seed in me...” you jest quietly and move back to capture his lips.

He scoffs into your mouth, but there's a twinkle in his eyes as he watches you. His tongue keeps circling yours lazily before he moves his lips over your cheek and down your jaw to kiss your throat, his hands caressing your head, with his fingers tangling into your hair. “I love you,” you hear him mutter against your skin as he nibbles softly on your neck. “More than you think... more than I can bear sometimes... I would die without you...”

Your heart swells, with love and concern for him, and you rub his back in a soothing fashion as you fight back tears. A stifled sob makes it past your trembling lips nonetheless, and he leans up at the sound of it, looking at you with furrowed brows, a panicked look in his warm eyes.

You swallow and shake your head at him, pressing your lips together as you blink quickly. He reaches one hand up to cup your cheek and wipe at your wet skin. “Are you hurting?”

“No,” you whisper with your voice shaking. “I'm just... so...” You sob again and close your eyes, more tears spilling past your lashes. “I love you so much, Sebastian. And I'll... never leave you... I promise...” you manage to croak out between crying quietly. He puts both of his hands on your face and brings his lips to yours, gently kissing you as you shiver beneath him.

You kiss him back and slowly calm down again, leaning into his touches as you focus on him and him alone. Your breaths mingle in your mouths as you lean your forehead against his, a blissful dizziness pushing aside your worries.

“And... whatever comes our way... we'll manage... we'll deal with it... together,” you whisper barely audible.

His eyes are dark and swimming in emotions as he watches you, then nods slowly. “Together,” he repeats and takes a shuddering breath. “Always.”

“Always,” you say with him and smile warmly. He leans in to kiss you again while slightly shifting against you. You sigh quietly as you feel him moving within you.

For a moment he just looks at you as if to make sure you're still here before he gives you another peck and leans away then, undoing your connection so fast you can barely protest against the sudden empty feeling inside you. Your legs fall to his sides, twitching as they finally relax.

He rolls off you, but then gently grabs your shoulders and turns you onto your side as well until your rear is pressed against his front. He doesn't hesitate at all when he slips his cock between your thighs as he pulls you closer to his chest. You inhale deeply and snuggle against him, grabbing the arm he snakes around you.

You're both facing the crib now where your twin babies still sleep peacefully, their tiny breaths a comforting sound in your ears. Sebastian leans his head on your shoulder and inhales deeply as he moves his other hand to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. A soft moan escapes you as you move against him, your thighs clenching around his hot member comfortably until you feel him harden between them once more.

As you turn your head slightly to watch him out of the corner of your eye, you reach one hand down between your legs and guide him back into your pussy, the familiar feeling of being filled out calming you immediately. He shifts against your rear as he pushes in as far as he can before he just rests there, holding you to his body, his hot breath making strands of your hair fly.

You close your eyes and lean against him. “I missed this...” you murmur softly.

“Me too...” he replies, his voice a low hum in your ear. “Do you think –”

“– we can do this more often now?” you finish his quiet question and smirk. “I sure hope so. No, I know so, because I do feel better, really. You make me complete, Sebastian,” you add and turn your head more to brush your lips against his cheek. He leans in and claims your mouth, smiling against you.

“So it was lack of sex that made you ill?” he muses with a smirk that is both mischievous and concerned, the duality of his emotions making you chuckle.

“It was lack of you,” you whisper against his lips.

“But I was here, I was always here,” he protests quietly, leaning back a little to look at you, slightly hurt.

You reach up a hand and caress his stubbled cheek. “You've been bearing the burden of our life alone for the past months, always worrying about my health and money and our future, and I feel... horrible for putting you through this, for not being able to do anything.” He opens his mouth to object, but you put a finger to his lips. “But I am here too and thanks to your intensive care, I am better, and we'll manage this together now, do you hear me? Let me carry some of your worries as well, please.”

He listens intently, his eyes boring into yours, the lines on his face deepening before they relax again. “We're not selling your hideous socks,” he then says with a smirk that reminds you so much of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

You laugh, both relieved at his calm tone and offended by his words. “Then we can go back to tomb robbing, how's that?” you suggest and poke your tongue out at him.

He stares at your mouth, then grins. “I promised you an honest life, so no, we'll not traipse through cobwebbed old caves ever again,” he says firmly, kissing your cheek as he leans away slightly, the hard lines back on his face. “We'll find a way. I'm sure there are still some people who owe you a favour or two.”

You snort at that as you think back to your days of helping everyone you met without the slightest hint of hesitation. “An honest life, huh? Sounds a bit like extortion to me,” you tease, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“It's called justice, darling. And it's only fair. You've done so much for so many people, me included, and you need to think of yourself for once.” His voice is low and a tad too serious for your liking.

“I'm a mother of five and a wife, I've had my time of thinking of myself,” you whisper. “It's us now. But you're right, we shouldn't be afraid to ask for help ourselves.”

“Not exactly what I said, but fine,” he agrees with a soft chuckle and kisses your jaw, shifting his hips against you as he presses his hand to your stomach.

You lick your lips and close your eyes, slowly going back to feeling the present instead of worrying or thinking about the future. His warm body moulds to yours as he starts grinding against your arse while your walls clench lazily around his cock.

“So, are you up for another round or do we just lie like this for a bit?” he whispers into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Why do I have the feeling that you want to make up for all those months we weren't able to do this in just one evening?” You chuckle softly as you turn your head to him, meeting his gaze, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

“You said you feel better. I'm trusting you that you're not lying to me. Are you lying to me?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“I'm not lying to you,” you whisper back, putting your hand on his as he rubs your stomach. “I do feel better and if you're fine with me just lying here, then please, go ahead and use me as you see fit.”

He groans into your ear. “Ugh, the temptation...” he hisses through his teeth. “Don't say that, I might not be able to hold back.”

“Then don't,” you challenge with a smirk.

He stares at you, breathing loudly through his nose before he closes his eyes and nods quietly. “If you insist,” he murmurs and moves his hand to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin, and you moan softly under the familiar sensation.

His other arm snakes around your neck and holds you gently pressed to his chest as he starts pushing his hips against your arse, slowly at first, then quickly losing all kind of control until he pounds into you with all he has. You melt into his embrace and moan louder, the tension within coiling up as your walls tighten around him.

Your eyes roll back as you cry out in nothing but bliss while your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, causing your body to shudder against his. His grunts are loud in your ear as he keeps thrusting into you, in and out, faster and harder, unrelenting until another wave of pleasure crashes over you.

While you float in the wonderful weightlessness of your release, he thrusts into you mercilessly, his movements much rougher than before as he slips back into his old behaviour, and you relish in the feeling of submitting to him fully. Your stomach fills with a warmth that is not just his seed as he finally stills inside you, pumping hot spurts of cum into your womb once more, but a warmth that exceeds the physical nature of his touch.

You feel safe and protected, completely at ease, knowing he is right there, pressed against you, holding you, caring so much about you that you could feed off his love for years and years to come. Centuries even, for all eternity for all you care. It's always been him, and through all the hardships in your lives, you've been together, and you've always come out the other end, holding each other, being together, no matter what.

You reach a hand up and grab the back of his head, your fingers digging into his hair as you pull him towards you for a kiss that hopefully conveys all those emotions swirling within your body. He breathes heavily against you, the hand on your hip easing its grip before it snakes up to cup your face as he kisses you back passionately.

You're lost in his embrace, sinking into his taste and smell and feel, almost completely oblivious to your surroundings. That is until you feel your breasts tensing up, just seconds before you hear a soft little squeak followed by a tiny little sob. Your eyes fly open and so do Sebastian's, before you both look towards the crib next to your bed.

Your twin babies stir, softly cooing. You breathe deeply against him, and without another word, he slips away from you, not caring about the mess you both created as he quickly walks to Beatrice and Bernie and leans over the crib with a soft smile on his hard features. You watch him as you roll onto your back and shift against your pillow, sitting up slightly. He picks up Bernie first, the little boy already sporting some of your features, while your baby girl definitely comes after her father.

He carries your son to your side and places him gently into your arm, lining him up to suckle on your breast. You look up at him shortly, noticing the almost envious look in his dark eyes that makes you smirk slightly before you wince when your baby boy starts nibbling on your hard nipple. Sebastian meets your gaze, before returning to the crib and gently lifting his tiny baby girl into his big hands, cradling her with his cheeks flushed.

When he puts Beatrice down in your other arm and docks her to your other breast, he looks at you lovingly before slipping next to you on the bed and supporting your shoulders as you feed his children. You inhale sharply under the eager sucking of your twins as you cradle them to your chest, trying to relax while you lean against your husband.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he coos into your ear, his breath ghosting your skin. “Look at what you're able to do, look at our babies...”

You do and smile softly, watching the tiny humans in your arms. In the end it was all worth it, all the pain and aches and those weeks and months you were battling against your own body. Seeing your children, healthy and eager to grow into this world, and seeing the soft expression in Sebastian's eyes, makes up for everything. You turn your head and brush your lips against his jaw before he leans in and captures them for a gentle kiss.

When he leans back, he smiles at you disarmingly, making your cheeks burn. He shifts against you as one of his hands moves over the tiny head of his son, while you gently rub your daughter's back as both of them still suckle eagerly on your breasts. For the longest moment you both watch them feed, content in each other's embrace.

Beatrice is the first to be sated, and when she lets go of your breast with a soft popping sound, Sebastian is already there to pick her up and lean her tiny body against his shoulder, as he stands from the bed and paces the room slowly, rubbing his daughter's back until a little burp breaks from her cute little mouth. You watch him, while you cradle Bernie in your arms, and smile softly.

“My good little girl,” he coos as he keeps walking her around the room, holding her gently to his bare chest. The sight warms you from the inside, and you almost don't notice when Bernie stirs against you, squirming slightly.

You lift him up and smile widely at him, meeting his curious big eyes, before you press your lips to his small forehead and inhale deeply, his sweet infant scent filling your nostrils. Next to you Sebastian is putting Beatrice down into the crib again and turns back to you, gently taking your son from your grasp, and repeats the motion he did with his daughter. Bernie's burp comes loud and immediate, and Sebastian's surprised laugh fills the room and your heart.

“That's my boy,” he chuckles and cradles his son in his arms for another moment while you start swaying the crib to calm your little girl, your eyes locked to the tall form of your husband.

You've always known he'd be a good father, and he even exceeded your expectations and became the best father you could have wished for for your children. He was always there, not shying away from doing anything when it came to his offspring, from changing diapers to bathing them or nursing them to sleep even if he was tired and exhausted himself. It was his unyielding love and support that convinced you to add to your family in the first place, knowing that he would always take care of your kids and you.

He notices your loving stare and smiles at you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he walks back to the bed and sits down on the edge, holding Bernie in his arms, as he leans towards you and presses his lips to your forehead. You take the infant from him and put him down gently next to his sister, who immediately stops her slight squirming. The twins cuddle together, and you gasp softly as they touch hands shortly after.

Sebastian wraps his arm around you as you both watch them in silent admiration. Leaning against him, you grab his other hand and hold it tightly before you raise it to your face and kiss his fingers, resting your lips on his ring. He hugs you tighter, breathing deeply. You snuggle against him and place your joined hands on your lap. He slips his fingers between yours and rubs your thigh with them before he turns his head and looks at you.

You look back, filled to the brim with happiness. His hand tightens around your waist as he pulls you closer to him until he lifts you onto his lap. You wrap your free arm around his neck when he suddenly stands from the bed and cradles you in his arms, a soft smile on his face as he carries you towards the small window of your bedroom.

“Look,” he whispers into your ear, and you follow his gaze through the old glass panel into your backyard, where your oldest twins play catch with a surprisingly nimble Edgar Adley.

The man you once assisted back in your teenage years has been a great help to your little family over the last decade and you couldn't be more grateful to him or his young wife for looking after Benjamin, Archie and Anne while you were bound to your bed, only able to look after your newborn twins while Sebastian has been looking after you.

Your gaze wanders on, and you find your sweet little daughter, the spitting image of yourself, sitting in the grass surrounded by her dolls and a stack of old books, while she moves her tiny fingers over a row of little flowers she braided together, completely oblivious to her brothers' playfulness. Yet when another boy approaches the fence, his hand held by a young blonde woman you know as Edgar's wife and the daughter of his late best friend Milo, she looks up curiously.

Sebastian chuckles. “Look at her, she's just like her mother,” he muses and kisses your cheek as he shifts you on his arms. “Completely oblivious to the world until a good-looking boy approaches and captures her attention.”

You scoff. “Remind you of someone, huh?”

“I was better looking,” he says with a smirk.

“And you weren't five when we met!” you laugh. “Though I'm sure you were already breaking hearts at that age.”

“Breaking hearts?” he repeats and looks at you slightly offended. “If anything, I was and am a heart-mender,” he adds and leans in to kiss you softly. “I did just cure you with my seed, didn't I?” he whispers under his breath and you blush deeply as you stare at him with your lips parted.

“Put me down,” you tell him softly after a moment of watching him closely, as you listen to the workings of your body, trying to distinguish your rapidly beating heart from the usual throbbing in your stomach.

He raises his eyebrows, but complies, gently setting you down until your feet touch the old floor boards. You hold onto him as you look up into his concerned face, your legs trembling slightly. His hands are on your waist, holding you just in case your body decides it isn't ready yet. But you feel surprisingly stable. When you put a hand on your abdomen, you inhale deeply, but the ache seems to have quieted down immensely.

“As weird as it may seem, but I think you're right...” you whisper and smile at him softly, but with your face flushed properly. “Though we shouldn't tell anyone about how I got better, okay?”

He laughs, the low rumble vibrating through your body. “We should also make sure you're properly healed,” he whispers and leans down to press his forehead to yours. “I might have to put in more...”

You cough slightly when you choke on your own spit at his proposal, but then reach up a hand and touch his face, your expression as serious as you can make it look while you feel yourself flooded with mischief and anticipation. “Yes, you might have to. Just to be sure.”

Sebastian's face lights up completely before he picks you up once more, wrapping your legs around his waist as he puts his big hands on your bum cheeks. You beam at him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. Slowly he carries you back to the bed, his eyes momentarily wandering towards the crib, but your twins are already sleeping again, fed and happy, their tiny fingers entangled, as their parents crawl back into bed.

When he puts you down on your back, hovering over you, you shake your head and motion him to roll around until you can lie on him. Once you rest on top of him, you smile down at him, cradling his face between your hands. He watches you with a warm smile as his hands come to rest on your hips, gently gripping your soft flesh.

You give him a short but heated kiss before you sit up on your knees, grinding your pelvis against his groin in slow circles while your chest bounces with every undulating motion. He sighs deeply beneath you, licking his lips.

“By Merlin's bloody facial hair, I've missed seeing you like this,” he whispers breathlessly, his hands moving up to grab your plump breasts, groping them with eager fingers.

You throw him a sultry smile as you move your wet folds over his hardening cock and reply with a breathy whisper: “Well, you better get used to it again. I have a lot to make up for.”

End notes: This started out with the idea to gather some prompts to write short smut or fluff or angst oneshots but then I got inspired to finally continue my Dad!Seb fic and here we are. The angst was real in this one, but also the tooth achingly sweet family life fluff.

By the way: Yes, I ship Edgar Adley with his late friend Milo's daughter. Listen! There is a blonde girl in Aranshire, maybe 8 or 10 years old, and I HC that it's Milo's daughter AND I see Edgar taking care of her after Milo's death (he did say he wanted to pay for her Hogwarts supplies one day) and when she grows up, they fall in love and have a baby boy and everything is happy! This story plays at least 13 years after we do that quest for him, so why not, huh? (Also did you know: that man with that sexy accent is voiced by the same guy who voices Victor Rookwood? WTF!)

As I mentioned in the first part (It is that time again) I borrowed the names of three of Sebastian's children (Benjamin, Archie and Anne) from @subastian-swallows, but added my own for Beatrice and Bernie (short for Bernard btw).

Seriously dude, five children! Two pairs of twins? Chill! His poor wife! No wonder she ended up bedridden! By the way: I have no idea about the topic and I didn't want to research too much because in the end it doesn't really matter, maybe it's even a magical malady, who knows. So please don't ask me about details! (I also have no idea if my descriptions of breastfeeding are anywhere near the real thing, so forgive me for my ignorance!)

And yes: she was healed by his magical cum, believe it or not. I don't make the rules, that's how the world works in my head!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #reader insert #angst #fluff #smut

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minichrismd · 1 year

Text

Unforgivable - Ominis Gaunt

Requested - ominis reacting to the reader being tortured with crucio

Word Count - 1653

Themes - Angst & Fluff

You walked with Ominis and Sebastian to charms class, discussing your upcoming N.E.W.T’s when Sebastian mentioned his plans for the evening.

“I need to gather some ingredients for potions class tomorrow, fancy exploring the forest a bit?” Sebastian asked. Ominis laughed, there was no way he would go into the forbidden forest during the day, let alone at night.

“You must be joking; I’m not going in there.” Ominis replied, shaking his head at the thought of it. Everyone knew that the forest was dangerous and that students were expressly forbidden to enter, that didn’t seem to bother Sebastian though.

You thought about the opportunity to explore the forbidden forest more, contemplating whether the risk of what lied within the forest was worth what you might get out of it.

“I’ll go with you.” You said confidently, certain that nothing was too much for you to handle. You’d fought spiders, trolls and dark wizards before, so you doubted there was anything in there that would be too much for you to handle. Ominis sighed, he didn’t want either of you to go into the forest, he’d seen you both come back damaged after your adventures there in fifth year.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us Ominis?” Sebastian asked. Ominis shook his head, letting out a disgruntled ‘no’. He knew that he couldn’t stop either of you from going, no matter how much he protested, you were both as stubborn as each other.

You left shortly after charms class, armed with wands and a small stash of wiggenweld just in case anything went wrong. You’d taken the quicker route to the forest, cutting across fields, trying to stay away from prying eyes of the nearby villages in case anyone attempted to report what you were doing to headmaster Black.

“What do you need for your potions?” You asked Sebastian in a hushed voice, not wanting to speak too loudly as to not alert anyone or anything that may be hiding nearby. Sebastian motioned to a cave just off the main path through the forest, explaining that the cave contained large amounts of Horklump which was essential for the potion. You rolled your eyes at Sebastian’s frugalness; you found his refusal to pay for potion ingredients slightly ridiculous.

The cave was vast, peppered with Horklump across the floor. Sebastian was right, it was a goldmine for potion ingredients. You watched on as Sebastian gathered his ingredients, taking his time to pick only the best from the bunch. You spent around an hour picking Horklump and another hour just exploring the cave. It brought memories back from your fifth year and how many caves you’d explored then.

As you were exiting the cave, something felt off. You weren’t sure what it was, whether it was the slight smell of burnt wood nearby or the eery silence that fell as you left, but the next thing you knew, you were flat on your back with your ears ringing, bright lights flashing in your eyes. The burning smell had intensified, was there a fire? You weren’t sure, but the next thing that you registered was Sebastian yelling your name in between casting multitudes of spells. Then everything went silent, you couldn’t hear Sebastian yelling anymore.

As your vision became less blurred, you turned your head towards the voices, catching a glimpse of Sebastian laid on the floor next to you. Poachers. You recognised them immediately. It seemed like you and Sebastian had stumbled across their camp as you’d approached the cave.

“She’s awake! Petrificus totalus!” One of the poachers yelled, casting the spell rendering you unable to move. Where was Ominis when you needed him?

Ominis stood by the main gate awaiting your return, it was now an hour past the time that you said you’d be back and he’d begun to worry. He regretted not pushing harder for you not to go into the forest but reminded himself that you were very stubborn, especially when it came to breaking the rules. He sighed, not willing to wait any longer for you and Sebastian. He started the long, dark walk to the forbidden forest with only his wand for guidance.

As he approached the forest, he heard faint yelling coming from inside the treeline. His brow furrowed; he couldn’t make out the words. He tried to shake off his nerves being this close to the forest at night, he truly despised the forest. He continued along the uneven path, walking quickly as to avoid any unwanted attention, but at he continued the yelling began to get louder. It sounded like spells being cast. His heartrate picked up, the last thing he wanted was to come across a fight.

Then he heard it, a pained scream. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“No! No! Please don’t!” He heard through the trees, heart sinking as he recognised your voice begging for mercy. He began running through the forest, trying to find you.

“Crucio!” He heard, followed by another pained scream which trailed off into a whimper. His stomach dropped; they were torturing you. Ominis grasped his wand tighter, running full speed now towards the sounds.

He stopped short of the cave where you and Sebastian had been, listening closely to what was being said.

“What do we do with them? They know were here!”

“They don’t leave here.”

Ominis felt like he was going to be sick, they were going to torture you to death. He knew he needed to do something. Gathering every ounce of courage that he had, he stepped out of the tree line just as another curse was cast. You let out another pained scream, tears streaming down your face, you wanted it to end, for the poachers to just be done with you.

“Expelliarmus!” Ominis yelled as he burst into the clearing at the mouth of the cave, taking the poachers by surprise. He cast of one spell after the next, using everything that he’d learnt in defence against the dark arts and his anger at them causing you harm until all of the poachers were unconscious or had ran away. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from the solo fight he’d just been through but quickly turned to you when he heard your pained groan.

“(Y/N), please don’t move, you’re hurt.” He spoke softly, kneeling down and cradling you in his lap. Your chest felt heavy from the pain but relief washed through you like a tidal wave, he’d come for you. Ominis looked over to where Sebastian lay as he heard a pained grunt, Sebastian sat up and held his head in his hands.

“We need to get you both to Madam Blainey. Now.” Ominis stated firmly, brushing the hair out of your mud streaked, tear-stained face. Seeing you like this broke his heart, he would kill every single one of the poachers for what they’d done to you.

“When did you get here?” Sebastian asked. Ominis glared at him, silencing him immediately.

Sebastian pushed himself up from the ground, his body aching after the lost fight and scanned his surroundings, noticing Ominis cradling you in his arms. Sebastian’s face fell, you’d been hurt badly.

“What happened?” Sebastian asked concerned. You were shivering in Ominis’ arms.

“They cast the cruciatus curse on her repeatedly, she begged them Sebastian, begged for mercy and they gave her none.” Ominis stated solemnly, feeling a tear escape. He quickly wiped it away with his sleeve before picking you up in his arms, the wince you made as he stood made his heart shatter.

The walk back to Hogwarts was silent, aside from an occasional groan from you when Ominis stepped heavily. You remained in his arms until he placed you on the bed in the hospital wing, Madam Blainey worriedly rushing over to you and casting multiple healing spells. Ominis wouldn’t leave your side until you were awake and coherent again, flat out refusing Madam Blainey and Professor Weasley’s requests for him to let you rest.

He sat by your bedside until the next afternoon, watching over you until you woke up. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in your surroundings. Your eyes scanned the room, you were in the hospital wing and someone was holding your hand. You turned your head slightly to see who it was.

“Ominis?” You spoke softly, Ominis’s head snapped towards you.

“You’re awake!” He almost yelled, immediately grabbing Madam Blainey’s attention. All Ominis wanted to do was hold you, to him he’d nearly lost you, a thought that he couldn’t bear.

“Mr Gaunt, need I remind you that I have other patients who are resting?” Madam Blainey scolded Ominis, making you smile slightly. You noticed that he was still holding your hand, you squeezed slightly, not wanting him to let go. He glanced back to you.

“I apologise Madam Blainey.” Ominis said sheepishly, not wanting to be removed from the hospital wing. Madam Blainey huffed checked you over.

“Coherent, awake, are you in any pain?” Madam Blainey asked. You shook your head, it was only a small lie.

“Very well, (Y/L/N) you may return to your common room. Mr Gaunt will escort you back.” And with that she walked away from the bed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m never trusting Sebastian on one of his adventures again.” You laughed as you pushed yourself up from the bed with one hand, the other still firmly held by Ominis. Ominis helped you pull yourself out of bed and walked with you back to your common room. As you were about to enter, Ominis pulled you back and into a hug which you gladly returned. He never wanted to let you go.

A/N - Friends to lovers anyone??

#ominis gaunt #ominis Gaunt oneshot #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis Gaunt X you #hogwarts legacy #reader insert #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy reader insert #Ominis gaunt angst

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watatsumiis · 1 year

Text

Reader's Stuffed Toy

Just a silly little set of drabbles about different characters finding out that the reader has a plushie in their likeness :D

Gender neutral reader, platonic fluff, very slight angst in Foul Legacy's part

Characters: Ayato, Foul Legacy, Gorou, Tighnari, Rex Lapis (yes the dragon), Xiao

Ayato is insufferably smug about it from the moment he realises. He’ll waste no time in teasing you about it and commenting on the plush, though there’s a dark flicker of something in his eyes whenever he catches you contently snuggled up to it, or tucking it carefully into your bag for a long trip. It may take some reassurance that no, this little bundle of fluff isn’t as good as the real thing, until he warms to the idea, and eventually you may find little packages laid out addressed only to “The Junior Yashiro Commissioner.” that, when opened, reveal itty bitty clothes, hand-sewn by Thoma with the utmost care to match Ayato’s own day-to-day outfits. He also may incorporate the toy into his own routine, occasionally stealing it from you so that it can ‘complete its paperwork for the day’. He denies being in any way attached to the toy, but it’s hard to take his claims seriously when he’s got it sitting on his desk in a little chair belonging to Ayaka’s dolls, with a teeny tiny brush and paper in hand.

Though Foul Legacy doesn't entirely get it, he understands that the stuffed toy is of great importance to you. He holds it so delicately, like it's made of glass, so his claws won't shred it. He'll mimic the way you treat it, patting it on the head and chirping curiously at it, as if it's a living creature. It takes him a while to realise how much the toy actually resembles him - there’s a level of disconnect between him and his physical form, but the moment he finds out, he can’t seem to stop thinking about it. He wonders why you’d want a plush of (what he perceives to be) such a monster, but it seems to bring you a great deal of comfort, so he lets it slide, making sure to always be extra careful when he’s tucking it in next to you while you sleep. He finds a whisper of familiarity and comfort in the way you treat the plush that makes him think back to days long past in a small, seaside village, supplying his little siblings with various toys and watching them play.

Gorou is utterly embarrassed - his immediate response is to ask if the Guuji Yae put you up to this. He cannot fathom why you’d be carrying around other than it being some sort of ploy to mess with him. He encourages you to put it away, seemingly worried about any of the other soldiers seeing and potentially teasing him for it - it’s all in good fun, of course, but Gorou is more than a little shy at the best of times. He doesn’t really get it, and may pull you aside to ask you more questions, but there’s just something about it that doesn’t seem to click for him. Though, once he knows you’re being kind and genuine, and that the plush was a one-off commission and not some kind of mass-produced piece, he’s more inclined to allow it, though he’ll get all blushy whenever he thinks about it - he just can’t quite process the fact that you like him enough to own something like that. Even if his soldiers happen to catch on, they realise that there’s a boundary of sorts there, though they may donate little trinkets and tiny toy weapons to the ‘miniature general’ as a sort of good luck ritual before big battles.

Tighnari finds the plush one day when you accidentally leave it sitting out - his initial reaction is one of utter confusion as he wonders if his admirers have grown so bold that they’re now making merchandise of him on top of the trading cards that are circulating. The moment he picks it up and realises it’s drenched in your scent, he’s pleasantly surprised and more than a little flattered. The concept of comfort objects is quite familiar to him, and he takes care to place the toy exactly where he found it. He keeps a closer eye out in an attempt to catch you in the act, partially out of curiosity, but also a little because he likes the confidence boost he gains from it, and how embarrassed you seem to be about the whole situation, hiding the toy away whenever he comes near. If it’s ever brought up, he just kind of laughs it off, but the twitching of his ears reveals how endeared he is to this specific trait of yours. He may also try to find ways to subtly direct you towards Collei, who also has similar comfort objects of her own and can be pretty embarrassed about them at times - this may end up with both of you having cute little Tighnari plushies in your possession.

Rex Lapis takes it pretty well in stride, doesn’t even comment on it at first - after all, this is basically a form of worship, no? That is, until he realises that you treat the toy as a companion more than an item of reverence. He’s a little confused about it at first, watching as you walk about with the plush dragon tucked in your arms, chattering away to it. Eventually, he caves and rumbles out his questions about it, asking if this is meant to be some form of teasing or mockery and listening intently as you awkwardly try to fumble out an acceptable explanation. It takes him some time to grasp the concept that it’s simply an item of comfort to you, and even then he’s not entirely convinced it’s some kind of adeptal trick or machine brought to life somehow.

Xiao isn’t sure how to react. It’s not something you really chose to hide from him, considering his own outlandish habits, you figured he probably wouldn’t even care, but it seems that his fight or flight kicks in whenever he glimpses you with the plush that bears such a striking resemblance to him. His cheeks flush and his pointed ears tilt downwards as he crosses his arms over his chest and demands to see the toy, asking where you got it and why you have it. It’s not quite something he can wrap his head around - why would you want to have something that looks like him when you could just call his name and have the real him there in an instant? If he’s feeling particularly agitated that day, he may just pocket the toy and walk away with it - it’s not the first time he’s done something like that to one of your belongings, and you know it won’t be the last. Following him reveals that he tucks it away in a secluded corner of his nest amongst the high branches of Wangshu Inn, maybe even placing some other similar trinkets and scraps of fabric around it like an imitation of his own nest. He might just turn a blind eye if you happen to be brave enough to try and steal it back from him, though this may end up in an impromptu long-term game of ‘capture the flag’.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or used to teach bots!

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uhohwhathaveidone · 1 year

Note

If it’s possible can I request a Sebastian x Reader one where for Potions class they were told they will make Amortentia and everyone is going crazy thinking what they will smell. Just the pining between the two only for them to realize that yeah they like eachother? Please and thank you, hope you have a great rest of your day!

I've brewed you a potion!

Brewed Crush (S.S)

pt2 Tainted Crush

The idea of Amortentia sounds terrifying tbh. Remember how Ron acted to the love potion meant for Harry? Terrifying. Anyway, these two are so oblivious it hurts, I hope you enjoy! It's not as long, but i still hope it reaches your expectations. Sharp is a little shit in this too, he likes to see his students embarrass themselves.

You walked beside Sebastian down the hall, chatting about random little things. You had Potions next, and while you were always eager for a chance to mix ingredients and create things, word was that you would be working on a particularly dangerous potion, but that’s all anyone could say. Initially that would be exciting, but knowing you and Sebastian, you would probably mess it some and maybe even blow up the whole classroom. You shuddered at the thought. Sebastian, on the other hand, was incredibly excited about the idea of working with a dangerous potion, and he had racked his brain trying to figure out what kind they would be working with. “What if it’s a poison?” He asked, brows raised in excitement. You scoffed, shaking your head. “Why would they teach us how to make poison?” Sebastian shrugged, “I don’t know. It sounds like something they would teach us!” You let out a laugh as you turned the corner, meeting Ominis, who nearly ran into you.

“Ominis! You just returned from Potions, right?” Sebastian asked, pulling the two of you to the side. You studied Ominis, his face red and brows furrowed. He didn’t respond to Sebastian at first, and bit his lip. “Well?” Sebastian pestered, crossing his arms. “We talked about love potions.” Ominis said quietly. You stifled a laugh as you realized that Ominis was flustered, no doubt from whatever love potion they talked about. Sebastian, on the other hand, dropped his arms in disbelief, eyes wide. “Love potion?” Ominis nodded. You tilted your head, knowing that there were many forms of love potion out there. “What kind?” You asked, and Ominis looked in your direction, tightlipped. “The bad kind.” And with that, he walked away.

“It can’t be that bad.” Sebastian said as he walked through the door of the classroom. You nodded in response, thinking about what kind of love potion Ominis was talking about, when you bumped into Sebastian’s back. “Hey, come on now.” You huffed, trying to squeeze by him. Sebastian had frozen in place, staring at the board, staring at the words written on it. You made it past him and followed his gaze, eyes widening as you also read the board. Amortentia, the love potion that smells like what, or who, you desired most, and was considered one of the most dangerous love potions in existence. You shuddered, fear getting caught in your throat. “Let’s hurry to our seats before we get trampled.” You suggested grabbing Sebastian’s arm and pulling him to the seat you usually sat at. Sebastian looked at you, puzzled. “Isn’t that the potion that’s supposed to smell nice?” You nodded your head, “It’s supposed to smell like the thing you desire most.” Sebastian’s eyes widened and felt heat rise to his cheeks.

The two of you sat, watching as students poured into the classroom, chattering loudly as they saw the potion on the board. You swore you heard one of the girls shriek slightly when her friend told her what kind of potion was, and you mentally prepared yourself. Professor Sharp walked in soon after, eyeing some of the students as they chattered. His gaze found your own, and you could have sworn he smirked. He motioned for everyone to open their books, turning to the chapter about love potions.

“As you see on the board, today we will be working with Amortentia, a very strong love potion.” Sharp began, holding the book and walking to stand in front of his desk. “I want to express the dangers of this potion before we go and create it, and I will be checking each of you before you leave, if you decide to keep some for whatever nefarious reason.” You watched as the girl from earlier seemed to deflate, hanging her head low. You smiled slightly, nudging Sebastian. “It seems like someone wanted to keep a bit for herself.” You whispered, smiling up at him. His face hadn’t lost the red tint from when he walked into the classroom, and his eyes still seemed a little wide. You shook your head and turned back to Sharp, who had begun to go through the specific dangers of the potion. “Just so we are all aware, this potion does not make someone actually fall in love. The victim only feels the attachment, not the real feelings, which is what makes this potion so dangerous. You are lucky I’m sharing this with you today, but many of the ingredients are forbidden to collect, which means that this will be the only time you will be able to make this.” Sharp continued, and you sighed in relief hearing that news, glad that you would be safe if anyone ever wanted to use it on you.

Ten minutes of lecturing later and Sharp had begun to distribute the ingredients needed for the potion, also noting how much he gave each of you in case someone decided to take the rest of the ingredients. You nudged Sebastian, pointing to his cauldron. “So, what are you going to smell?” You asked, smirking. Sebastian stuttered as his cheeks became hotter, only to get out “uh, apple tart, of course!” You raised an eyebrow, “You’re attracted to the smell of apple tarts?” Sebastian nodded quickly, turning the conversation around. “What’s yours going to smell like then?” You bit the inside of your lip, knowing that you had no idea what it would smell like, except that it would more than likely be connected to Sebastian. “Probably marshmallows.” “Marshmallows?” “They’re tasty!”

You glared at the page, trying to figure out the instructions. The measurements seemed strange and unproportioned, and you began to think that you had it wrong. Turning to Sebastian, who had his tongue out in concentration, you looked at his instructions. “Do these measurements seem right to you?” You asked, watching as he places an odd amount of a green fern into the cauldron. He didn’t respond, deep in concentration still, and you shrugged, grabbing at his parchment. “Hey, I need that!” He said, looking down and finding the page gone. You compared the two pages, which were identical, sighing. “It doesn’t feel right. These measurements are way too uncontrolled.” You stated, handing the page back to Sebastian. He shook his head, tracing his finger back to where he left off. “You won’t blow anything up, it's fine.” You shook your head in annoyance and went back to placing ingredients into the pot.

You watched as the potion began to make steam, which swirled around the top of the cauldron and seemed to shine. You looked over at Sebastian to see how he was doing, watching him stir his potion one final time. You began to worry, afraid to get too close to the pot in case it had started to let off fumes. Which it did, of course. You were hit with the scent of burning cinders and wood chips, mixed with salted caramel filled your lungs. Your face warmed up instantly, and you recognized the scent. It smelled just like Sebastian. You looked around, looking to see if anyone else could smell your potion, praying that it only smelled that way for you. Your cheeks heated up even more as the warm scent filled your senses, and you glanced over at Sebastian.

He wasn’t having the best time either. As soon as he finished stirring the pot, he was hit with a big wave of vanilla and lavender, a scent he had smelled many times before. It was what you smelled like, and there was a hint of marshmallow; you had said they were good. He sat there, wondering if his face could even heat up more than it already had, knowing that the potion knew exactly what he felt. He liked you, of course, but he didn’t think he liked you that much. Ominis had teased him a bit about how Sebastian “Most definitely had a crush” on you, but the love potion was basically screaming out that he was in love, and he shook his head and looked around. Everyone had finished their potions, and Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief as he began to pack his things up, ready to escape before you asked him about his potion.

Professor Sharp had other ideas. “Now that you have created your potion, why don’t we tell everyone what we smell?” He had a sly smirk on his lips, seemingly like his whole plan was to embarrass his students that day. You looked over at Sebastian and shared a wide-eyed stare, fear written on both your faces. Sharp started at the row closest to him, motioning for someone to start. You felt your hands clam up, noticing that you were sat in the center, both a curse and a blessing. You wrung your hands anxiously as Sharp got closer, walking up to the students on the outer edge of your row. Sebastian would go before you, and he knew it. You could practically see the sweat on his forehead as his eyes followed Sharp, sucking in a breath when he stood before him. “Mr. Sallow. Do tell us what you smell.” Sebastian looked around, noticing all the eyes trained to him. ��Uh, vanilla, sir, and lavender.” Sharp raised an eyebrow, knowing that Sebastian had another scent in the pot. Sebastian looked down at the pot, “and marshmallow.” Sharp watched Sebastian with a smirk and looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You took a breath in, “I smell… wood chips…burning cinder…and salted caramel.” Sharp’s smile grew, “That is quite the combination.” He walked to the next student, and you and Sebastian released the breath you had both been holding. You glanced at Sebastian, cheeks warm, hoping he didn’t know that he smelled like that.

The two of you walked out of the classroom and quietly made your way to the dining hall for lunch. You awkwardly walked beside Sebastian, trying to cool off after what could only have been the most embarrassing moment of your life. Sebastian was deep in thought, trying to figure out where he had heard salted caramel before. He could faintly remember you telling him one day that he smelled like it, and had even asked if he was carrying any, which he was. His thoughts began to run faster than he could keep up, and he pulled you to the side. Surprised, you looked up at him. “Your potion, who was it about?” He asked quickly, trying to wrap his head around the fact that perhaps your potions were for each other. Your cheeks heated up again, and you looked down at your feet. Quietly, you responded, “It smelled like you.” Sebastian barely heard you speak, only catching what sounded like the word “you.” “Did you say me?” Sebastian began to smile, watching as you nodded. He grabbed your shoulders, making you look at him. “That’s…that’s great!” You looked at him, confused. “My potion… it was… it smelled like you too.” He smiled shyly as his cheeks heated up to match your own. “We had each other?” “Yeah!”

Once the two of you had gone through the process of properly confessing your feelings for each other, the two of you walked to the dining hall, a new goal in mind. What did Ominis smell.

#sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #harry potter imagine #hogwarts au #hogwarts legacy #reader insert #x reader #fluff #aesop sharp #sharp enjoys watching his students suffer im sorry #ominis gaunt #harry potter

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raven-awed · 1 year

Text

What He Noticed First

Ominis Gaunt x fem reader/MC

Fluff/angst

Summary: Ominis finds himself dealing with a lot of complicated feelings, especially when he realizes he has a crush on the new fifth year.

A/n: This started out as a cute fluffy idea but turns a little angsty. I’m thinking about writing a second part.

*not my picture

Vanilla, Ominis noted to himself about the new fifth year student. She smelled like vanilla. He wasn’t sure if it was her shampoo, perfume, or lotion, but every time she shifted or moved in her seat next to him the sweet smell of vanilla floated in the air.

Professor Ronen asked a question while Ominis was lost in thought, but y/n’s hand shot up in the air, answering the professor’s question with a soft and delicate voice.

“Excellent,” the Charms professor applauded before diving further into his lecture.

During class, Ominis made several other observations about y/n, other than her enticing scent, she was bright, eager to learn, and quick with occasional witty comments that she’d whisper to him or the student sitting at her other side.

“And that concludes our lesson,” Professor Ronen announced.

Ominis furrowed his brow, class had seemed to go by in a blur. Had he really been so fixated on the new girl that he hadn’t hardly heard a single thing Professor Ronen had said.

“See you next charms class,” y/n said to him as she rose from her seat.

“Yeah,” Ominis replied, still slightly dazed. “Goodbye.”

Even as she left the classroom, the sweet scent of vanilla lingered near him. Without much hurry, he gathered his things and took out his wand leaving with the rest of the stragglers to his next class.

Over the past several weeks, he had become better acquainted with y/n. He began to recognize her by other little details than just the way she smelled, like by the rhythm of her walking or the sound of her quietly humming to herself as she explored the castle.

When the opportunity would present itself, he sought out reasons to chat with her, even for simple things like discussing homework and how she was adjusting to Hogwarts.

He eventually learned more about her and her life, although he had remained reserved about sharing about himself. He’d rather listen to her talk anyways, than drudge up any unpleasantness.

It didn’t take long before Ominis began to associate anything made with vanilla with y/n. He’d be in Honey Dukes or in the great hall and smell something similar and a small smile would form on his face without fail.

He hadn’t really noticed himself until Sebastian had pointed it out at Hogsmeade. Fortunately, Sebastian hadn’t made the full connection, but seemed utterly bewildered over Ominis smiling over cakes.

At first, Ominis didn’t really think much of it, so what if he smiled everytime he smelled vanilla or that he’d feel a little flutter in his gut when he she’d walk into the room. She was his new friend, that was it… He denied to himself that it was anything else.

It wasn’t until one day in potions when he was faced with tangible evidence. He could hear all the girls giggling and buzzing with excitement as Professor Sharpe wrote on the chalkboard.

Sebastian groaned, “What a waste of time.”

“What is it?” Ominis quietly asked him.

“Apparently, we’re learning about-“

“Amortentia,” Professor Sharpe stated flatly, obviously not excited about the day’s lesson either. “A powerful love potion, and while we will not be brewing any in class, it is important to learn about its features and effects, if only to not become a recipient of its effects.”

Professor Sharpe moved to a potion station at the front of the class and asked all the students to gather around. “Amortentia induces the recipient to become infatuated or even obsessed, which could lead to some rather dangerous outcomes.”

The potions professor lifted the lid of the cauldron, “Amortentia smells differently to each person, particularly things that each individual is attracted to.”

Ominis stumbled forward a bit as the other students closed in closer to the cauldron. Standing almost in front of it now, all he could smell was vanilla, it was overwhelming to all his other senses, almost as if he was floating in a sea of it. Ominis bit his bottom lip tightly, his teeth digging into his skin as he realized why.

Finally, Professor Sharpe replaced the lid and Ominis felt like he could breathe again. His shoulders slumped as he stood there.

“You alright?” Sebastian pressed. “Look like you might throw up.

“I-I’m fine,” Ominis said, rubbing his face. “Think I’m just tired.”

Once class was dismissed, Ominis fled to the Slytherin common room. He flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. How was he supposed to act around y/n now?

As the evening approached, Ominis remained in bed, afraid to go downstairs to the great hall, in case he’d run into y/n.

Dread filled him at the thought. He was suddenly self conscious about everything, what if said the wrong thing, or worse, what if y/n figured out how he felt and rejected him?

Eventually, he fell asleep still dressed in his uniform. It wasn’t a restful sleep, he woke in the morning cranky and irritable. He still had no solution for his crush problem other than avoiding y/n as much as possible.

He was the last one to leave the common room, he was hoping most people by now were done with breakfast, so he could at least eat in peace.

As expected, he wasn’t greeted by the usual noise and chatter, just a few students finishing their meals before heading for class. Sitting alone at the far end of the Slytherin table, Ominis served himself toast and a glass of pumpkin juice.

He stilled midbite as he heard footsteps approach.

“Relax,” Sebastian yawned, sitting next to Ominis. “It’s just me.”

“You slept in rather late,” Ominis commented, swallowing. “What were you up to last night?” He raised a brow, waiting for his friend’s reply.

“Nothing,” Sebastian shrugged.

Ominis frowned at Sebastian, they had been friends long enough for him to know that it was not nothing.

“I was just exploring the Restricted Section,” he admitted.

“Again? Are you trying to get expelled?”

“I’m not going to get expelled,” Sebastian sighed, playing with his food.

They parted ways after breakfast, heading to their respective morning classes. Being a few minutes late served Ominis well, he slipped in quietly and took an empty seat in the back row.

Typically, he sat near the front with y/n right beside him, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to act normally around her. Still, even sitting far from her, his stomach still flipped every time she spoke up to answer a question or giggle with whoever she was next to her.

He always assumed people were exaggerating when they spoke of infatuation and love. But this ache in his chest was practically indescribable. He yearned to be near her while simultaneously feeling nauseous at the thought of being close to her.

How does anyone handle feelings like these with any poise?

He recalled all the times he chuckled at the misery of others. Listening to other poor souls stumbling over their words or saying foolish things or behaving awkwardly simply because they were in the presence of someone they liked.

Now he was just another one of those bumbling idiots, but worse, he was too scared to even talk to her anymore. He felt like a coward.

When class ended, he tried to leave first. As he walked through the threshold, he could hear y/n calling after him and rushing towards him.

On one hand, he loved hearing her call his name, but he was also struck with anxiety, his palms already beginning sweating as he tried to walk faster.

“Hey,” she said, having caught up to him. “Are you alright?”

Ominis could hear the concern in her voice, he felt like he could melt on the spot, especially as she tugged on the sleeve of his robe to get him to stop and talk to her.

“I’m fine,” he answered sharper than he had meant to.

“Are you sure?” She pressed. “Sebastian said you weren’t feeling well yesterday and I didn’t see you this morning at breakfast.”

Ominis lowered his brow, “When did you and Sebastian talk?”

“Last night,” she answered in a small voice, while his voice rose.

“When, last night?”

“I really shouldn’t say more,” y/n replied softly. “I just.. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His jaw clenched tightly, how had it escaped his attention how close you and Sebastian had become, and why did it bother him so much?

He wasn’t stupid, this meant you and Sebastian had been in the Restricted Section, together, for some reason unknown to him.

Ominis sighed, his body relaxing a bit, “I’m fine y/n, really I am. I appreciate your concern.”

“I’ll see you later?” She asked.

Ominis nodded.

A couple of days passed, uneventfully for Ominis and the other students. Y/n seemed quite busy as of late, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was easier to avoid her if she wasn’t around, but it felt like ages since he had last spoken to her.

It was late at night and Ominis found himself unable to sleep. Thoughts of y/n and his troubles plagued him as he explored the quiet and empty halls of Hogwarts.

Despite his worries, he figured it would be best to get everything out in the open and go ahead and tell her how he felt. He simply needed to find the right time and place. And just like that the right place came to mind, The Undercroft.

It would provide the privacy that he desperately needed in order to make his confession. Even with Hogwarts being as vast as it is, there weren’t many places one could find absolute privacy, always a student or ghost coming in and out at all hours of the day. But in the Undercroft, they could be alone.

Without thinking, he started walking towards the hidden entrance. It had been some time since he had last gone down there.

His mind was already envisioning what he’d like to do or what he could do. The Undercroft wasn’t exactly the coziest place, but there were a few things he could do to make it more comfortable: more lights, maybe a few chairs or a blanket. He could even plan a little picnic or something.

He groaned to himself, “That might be a little too much.”

As Ominis approached the secret passage, he heard the distinct sounds of the gears twisting and passage opening as someone came out.

“Hello Sebastian,” He greeted, but quickly realized his mistake. “Wait.”

The familiar sweet scent of vanilla hung in the air giving y/n away. “Y/n?” He questioned, listening closely.

“Hello Ominis, I-“

“Did Sebastian bring you here?” He snapped, unable to disguise his anger or hurt.

“I won’t say a word about The Undercroft to anyone, I swear,” she pleaded.

“That’s not- That’s not the issue,” he murmured defeatedly. “Everything is ruined.”

He had wanted to be the one to show her, it was his secret afterall. And he feared that y/n and Sebastian were becoming something more than just friends.

Why else would Sebastian share such an important secret with her? Or help her sneak into the library?

He didn’t want to have to compete with oldest and dearest friend, and even if he did, he already felt like he had lost the battle. Ominis hated having all these conflicting emotions, especially the jealousy that he was currently overwhelmed by.

It didn’t seem fair. In a blink of an eye, Sebastian had seemingly won y/n over, even if both of him and her didn’t see it like that, yet, but to Ominis it was inevitable that they’d fall for each other.

“Ominis,” y/n spoke gently. “What’s ruined?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shook his head.

Without saying another word, Ominis retreated alone back to the common room.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #Ominis gaunt fanfic #hogwarts legacy #Hogwarts legacy fanfic #reader insert #female reader #Ominis gaunt fluff #Ominis gaunt angst

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supercap2319 · 4 months

Text

"You said we were going to work on our vampire powers, not an annual fuck-fest." Y/N said as Sebastian dabbed his face with his shirt as he looked at Y/N in all his shirtless glory.

The older vampire looks at him. "We are going to train, luv. This is how the pirates used to train on the high seas. Was more personal that way." He set his shirt down and smiled at his young lover.

"Now, let me show you why they called me Sebastian The Merciless." He vampire sped towards Y/N as he smiled and charged forward.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #legacies #Legacies x male reader #thomas doherty #Thomas Doherty x male reader #sebastian x reader #Sebastian Cane x male reader #Sebastian The Merciless

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stanathanxoox · 2 months

Text

You Mean?

One being extremely touched that other can visualize having a baby with them, a family. - Ominis Gaunt x reader

The two of you were sat lazily entwined on the couch that had been conjured in the room of requirement back in your fifth year. Now here you were just days away from graduating from Hogwarts, your NEWT exams finally finished as of this afternoon, beside your boyfriend of the last year and a half. Ominis had asked to court you upon your return from the summer holidays between your fifth and sixth year and you were more than happy to agree, having developed major feelings for him during your first year at Hogwarts. Fiercely loyal and protective of his friends he had been there for you when Sebastian had decided to flee after killing his Uncle and his sister had turned against him. Even though you had sworn you weren’t going to turn him in you were positive that he felt someone would, and Ominis and you had lost a best friend that day. You heard from him occasionally in letters that he sent, but he always said never to write back to him and so you didn’t at his wishes. You knew he was safe and that was the main thing. Your pulled from your thoughts when Ominis pulls you closer to him and nuzzles his head into the crock of your neck, a favourite resting place of his. You moan when you feel the light kiss he places their and feel his lips turn up into a sweet smile.

“I can’t wait for us to be out of here. For us to settle down and have a family of our own. A baby, with a mix of both of us” he whispers and you turn towards him, having thought of that before, but honestly you hadn’t thought that Ominis was thinking the same thing. It made you so happy that he wanted the same future together that you did

“You mean, you want to start a family with me?” you ask

“Of course I do my beautiful girl, since the moment we started courting I knew you were it for me”

“Oh my goodness, yes I want all of that with you too Ominis” you say throwing your arms around your boyfriend, who chuckles at your enthusiasm before placing a kiss on your lips.

Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi, @jimmybpride, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy, @nikkiwierden, @samchelforever007, @kirkspockbones, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love, @haliannej, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake, @mizzezm, @genius2050, @twilight-twihard, @cullencoven2019, @wxlfgirlx, @luciferxchloeislove, @drethanramsey-ismybabe, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine, @loverofoneshots, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy reader insert #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine

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magicalbats · 6 months

Text

Sanctuary

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,874

Warnings: sacrilegious content, monster fucking, tentacle/tongue fucking, brief throat fucking, reader is a nun so take that as you will

A/N: this is my very first commission ever and I had a blast working on it so I asked if I could share it with everyone! I went through and removed the identifiers for their OC but otherwise its exactly the same. I'm going to make a comms page later on for anyone interested so keep an eye out for that, and please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Snow flurries around your face and buffets the skin to leave your cheeks feeling raw as you peer out over the assembled crowd. There’s a restlessness that hangs over the multitude of heavily bundled bodies lined up in the town square but order had largely been maintained all morning. It was mostly a variety of women in differing sizes, shapes and ages, which tended to help in that regard, while the occasional man was either old, sick or otherwise unfit for the labor needed to support themselves. These people relied heavily, sometimes exclusively, on the church’s community efforts to keep themselves afloat. You could even make out a few small children among the masses where you were standing; antsy from waiting and fussy with hunger, and who were starting to get on their accompanying parents' last nerves by the looks of it.

Cloak whipping in the frigid wind, you shift behind the table where two other Sisters were diligently working to ladle out the porridge and pass out thick slices of bread quickly enough to keep the line moving at a reasonable pace. You were technically supposed to be on break after standing in the same spot for hours, your dominant wrist giving a muted throb from overuse when you take up the spare baler spoon and dip it into the massive pot, but you were having a hard time walking away. You usually did, though. Some might accuse you of taking your responsibilities a little too seriously at times but you liked to think of it more as simply being pertinacious. It was better to toe the line of overzealous than to be apathetic or indifferent to the plights of others, after all, and you couldn’t think of anyone more in plight than hungry children.

Speculatively, Sister Darya eyes the bowl you fill and set aside before starting to spoon out another serving into a second dish. She sends you a sidelong glance even while her hands continue to work through the monotonous motions. Dip, pour, pass across the table. Dip, pour, pass across the table. She doesn’t have to look to ensure every moving piece ends up exactly where it needs to be, and the line keeps moving without interruption even as she sets her prickly sights on you.

“Back so soon, Sister? Perhaps we should have you chained to the nearest bench to ensure you take your breaks when you’re supposed to.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You respond with a cool indifference, unperturbed by the pointed stare she gives you when you reach to fill a third bowl. “I’ll go take my rest once I give these to the children. Surely you won’t find any complaint in that?”

Sister Darya draws a careful breath and lets it out with a sigh. When she speaks next, it’s very soft so that only you might hear her quiet response. “They are supposed to wait in line just like everyone else. Those are the rules. Do not give me that look, Sister. You know as well as I do what lows the starving and the sick will sink to.”

“Then I will take care to ensure nothing of the sort comes of it.” Stamping down the flare of annoyance that sparks in your chest, you stiffly drop the baler back to the table. The older woman narrows her sharp beady eyes at you in warning yet you pay it little mind.

Quickly shoving a spoon into each of the four bowls you’ve prepared, you juggle the dishes into your hands and step out from behind the table. You can barely catch the sound of her grumbling something to the other nun stationed with her as you walk away but aren’t quite able to make out what’s being said. No matter though. She’d never been particularly fond of you and the feeling was decidedly mutual. Nothing that happened here today was going to change that.

The first child you manage to track down in the crowd is on the verge of tears, fitfully tugging at his mothers skirts while he asks her how much longer it will be. She has her hands full with a mewling infant, swaddled and bundled in so many layers that it takes the use of both hands to properly hold onto the bulky mass, and she could not offer him much comfort aside from gentle reassurances that it would be soon. One look at the tired, heavy bags under her eyes vindicates your decision. These people needed help, and you wouldn’t sit idly by if there was something that could be done for them.

Sweeping closer to the pair, you keep your voice gentle even as you project it enough to be heard over the general din. “Do not cry, little man. You must be strong for your mother and your new sibling, isn’t that right? Look at what I have for you.”

Red faced from the snow and the wind, he turns to glance up at you from under the brim of his wide, fur lined cap. The green of his irises seems to swim with valiantly held back tears but they clear almost immediately when he sees the bowl you carefully offer out to him. They appear to you like crystalline lakes turned dazzling with the azure sheen of algae, and you give him your best smile when he eagerly reaches out to accept the porridge in his tiny gloved hands.

Her expression morphing from one of surprise to immense gratitude, the mother ducks her head in quick thanks. “May the Cryo Archon bless you, Sister. Your kindness means much to me and my children.”

“Speak not another word of it. You’re almost to the front of the line now, so you’ll be able to fill your stomach soon. Please take care.”

With a brief nod of acknowledgment, you move on. There’s another child a few paces down, this one a young girl curled up in the arms of her father as if in search of warmth as much as comfort, and you tell them much the same. That they were almost to the front of the queue and he gives his words of thanks as his daughter shyly accepts the bowl you hand to her. Left with still two more to pass out, you work your way further back in the line while assuring the waiting adults that there was enough for everyone to be fed and to just be patient.

Empty handed after finding a pair of brothers solemnly standing in line together, you start to retrace your path towards the table again. You’d spotted a few more kids and you wanted to make the burden of waiting a bit more bearable for them as much as for their parents, but a small scuffle up near the front pulls your gaze and demands your attention first. Your strides turn purposeful now as you make a beeline for the commotion. What you come upon gives you pause, though.

The green eyed boy from before was picking himself up off the ground and trying very hard not to let the hiccuping sobs that shake his shoulders get the better of him. His bowl of porridge was spilled in the barren dirt and frozen mud. A gnarled looking man in a tattered coat was bending to retrieve the fallen dish, mumbling something unkind under his breath while the mother juggles the baby in her arms and frets over her fallen son. At first you think it an accident, the kind of misstep that could happen all too easily when there were so many people crammed together in a single place. But then, to your surprise, the surly man straightens up with the bowl, dips his fingers into what bit of porridge meal was still sticking to the interior and pops them into his mouth.

You see an instant flash of red behind your eyes.

“What is the meaning of this?” You demand, closing the distance at a rapid pace now. “Horrid scoundrel, do you truly intend to repay the Holy Mothers kindness and generosity by stealing from a child? Does that seem right to you?”

The sallow faced man glances up at your approach, takes one look at the black veil covering your hair and scoffs before turning from you. It was clear he thought little of you and your opinions on the matter, and he disinterestedly begins to walk away with his spoils still in hand. Temper flaring just a pinch more, you lengthen the stride of your steps. You brush right past the mother and her children. Reach out with grasping fingers and snag the back of the man’s ratty coat. He aggressively spins around to snap at you, but you were ready with some choice words of your own.

“How dare you! To think that anyone in our great motherland would behave like an uncivilized animal!” You practically spit up at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself for carrying on in this manner when there is plenty to go around for everyone. What have you got to say, huh?”

“I don’t have nothing to say to you, crazy bitch. Let go! Before I get mad!”

A chorus of horrified gasps erupts around you, but you only tighten your hold on him even when his coat is so grimy and unkempt it makes your skin itch. You’re distantly aware of the crowd shuffling behind you, no doubt considering the possible ramifications of stepping in or not, but there was a hesitation when so many of them were women with little to no able bodied men to help. It was only natural, and you didn’t blame them for it. You blamed this no good lout for causing such an unpleasant scene in the first place and you weren’t about to let him get off that easily for being such an inconvenient nuisance to everyone.

“I will not let you go. You owe that boy and his mother an apology, sir. Come, I will even stand with you to lessen the embarrassment you have to face.”

Becoming more aggressive by the second, he violently tries to yank out of your grip. You hold fast though, and only stumble a step before pulling back on his coat with everything you’ve got. He seemed annoyed more than anything else though, and he rounds on you again to loom over your much slighter frame in an obvious display of intimidation as he bellows, “I’m warning you, let me go! Now!”

“And I am warning you, come apologize to them or you will not like how this is going to end.”

His face growing red in anger, he tries once again to forcefully shrug you off. But when that doesn’t work he brings his hand up in a quick arc, clenching it into a tight fist. You barely have enough time to process it’s even happening and then it — harmlessly sails right over your head.

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you watch in mute disbelief as he’s roughly dragged back a handful of steps by an arm wrapped around his neck. The destitute man flails and kicks, grunting when he drops the bowl so he can reach up to claw at the limb cutting off his air supply. It’s useless though. Whoever was holding onto him had a grip as good as iron, evidently, and you catch a burst of coppery-brown hair behind him as he slowly starts to drain of energy and sag. One moment he’s wildly thrashing to get loose and the next he’s … going limp with a wet little gurgle.

You catch your first glimpse of the young man — your heroic savior, as it were — when he bends to deposit the vagrant onto the cold ground without much concern for where or how he might land. His burden hitting the dirt with a bodily thump, he lifts his attention to you. You’re instantly struck by the intense blue of his eyes, and your breath catches in shock.

Was he really human?

“Are you alright, miss? Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner.” Straightening again, he wipes his gloved hands together as if ridding them of dirt after a messy job. Then he steps over the prone man on long, somewhat gangly legs so he can come closer. “When someone said there was a disturbance going on at the church’s food drive I came as fast as I could. I hope you’re not hurt?”

Rousing from your initial disquiet, you take in the whole of him rather than just the strange eyes staring at you in question. You recognize the military uniform immediately, and bob a quick curtsy as was customary when dealing with someone of his station. “Worry not, good sir. I am unharmed and I have you to thank for that. I’d say you were just in time, in fact.”

The young soldier gives you an abrupt, dazzling smile that is so filled to the brim with boyish charm it almost gives you pause. He was handsome, yes, but he also looked like a troublemaker of the highest order. Certainly not someone you would need or want to find yourself mixed up with no matter how good looking he was or how pleasantly symmetrical his features were.

“It was my pleasure, of course, Sister …?”

You lift your chin and tell him your name.

He slowly repeats your name, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue and the way the syllables curl inside his mouth. “Well, Sister, although I was all too happy to offer my assistance, you still played an admirable part too. Thanks to you I didn’t have to go chasing this guy down. I owe you my thanks as well.”

“Save it.” You sigh, giving your head a brief shake. “I was only doing what’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to the boy he stole from and get him another bowl of food.”

Decisively turning on your heel, expecting that to be the end of it, you start to walk away. To your great surprise, though, he quickly falls into step beside you.

“I’m Ajax, by the way.”

“A lovely name.” You don’t miss a beat but, rather than discouraging him with your indifferent tone, it just makes his grin grow even wider.

“I can help you.” He says it so point blank and matter of fact that for a split second you’re not quite sure what he even wants to lend you a hand with. And that was to say nothing of the why.

“Although I certainly appreciate the offer, I think you’ve helped plenty for one day.” Turning your head, you steal a quick glance back at the unconscious man still lying out on the ground. The boy with the green eyes was spitefully kicking dirt at him and, much like his mother, you willfully chose to ignore it. While it wasn’t exactly good or proper behavior, you figured he was entitled to a tiny bit of payback for what he’d endured. “Shouldn’t you be escorting that gentleman to the jailhouse right about now? Surely that is a much more pressing matter for you than feeding the sick and hungry.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be waking up anytime soon and I’m sure another officer will happen by any minute now to take care of it.”

You send him a slow, curious look, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit put out. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? As a young man in her majesty the Tsaritsa’s army I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for recognition of such a good deed.”

He casually waves that off with a chuckle. “Ah, who really cares about recognition anyway? I’m much more interested in doing what I enjoy than making decisions based on what will earn me merit.”

Something told you that was only a very small fraction of the bigger picture. He was still young and clearly impulsive, so you didn’t doubt that he truly was far more inclined to do only what he found worthy of his efforts to pursue. It wasn’t your place to comment on that though, nor did you want to humor how that applied to you in the here and now by giving it any deeper thought than that.

Ignoring Sister Darya’s incensed glare, you pause at the corner of the church’s food drive table and turn to face your dogged shadow. This man, this soldier named Ajax, obediently halts just within arms reach and looks at you with an expectant, almost puppy-like eagerness as if waiting for the next command to fall from your lips. You may have found it cute otherwise, but you weren’t about to encourage him in any way. It wasn’t in your nature to knowingly lead people on and unlike some of the other Sister’s in the order you didn’t derive any such pleasure from doing so. You’d have to be blunt then.

“I thank you again for your assistance,” You pointedly intone. “But I cannot allow you to waste your time taking on the church’s work. Her majesty has greater expectations of you than handing out bowls of porridge. You have your responsibilities and I have mine. We would both do well to remember that.”

He doesn’t look half as dejected by that as you’d hoped he would, his boyish grin only taking on a frustratingly sly edge now. “Aww, don’t tell me this is your way of sending me off into the cold again.”

“I’m afraid so. I don’t have time to entertain anyone, you understand.”

Those odd eyes of his dance before you as he gives you a quick, appraising glance up and down to take in your shuddering cloak and the fluttering veil atop your head. But it strikes you once again as being strange, how his irises don’t seem to reflect the light at all. Rather they almost seem to swallow it up like a void. You’d initially thought it a mere trick of the senses brought about by the heavy charcoal clouds hanging overhead but … even now, even standing near the cackling flame over which the pot of porridge was simmering, there still was no reflection to be found in his eyes. It was a little unsettling, if you were being honest.

Just what was he?

“You break my heart, Sister. Is it not also the responsibility of a soldier to see that the needs of the people he serves are met? Lending the church a hand would be nothing short of a great honor for me.”

You set your mouth in a firm, unamused line. “I’m afraid I’m not fool enough to believe that when you just told me you’re not interested in doing things simply for merit. You’ve got an ulterior motive in volunteering your services and I’m not interested in such games.”

A quick laugh huffs out of him as he lifts a hand to place it emphatically over his heart. “You wound me, Sister! What do you take me for, huh?”

“Someone who’s time would be much better spent escorting that vagabond away from the food drive before he wakes up and starts causing more trouble for us, that’s what.”

“Fair enough.” Shoulders shaking with laughter, he pauses to give you another glance over from the top of your head down to the toes of your smart leather boots. You’re acutely aware of the other Sister’s watching on in rapt fascination and morbid curiosity, as well as the townsfolk standing close enough to the front of the line to eavesdrop, but you firmly stand your ground. There would be time to feel embarrassed by this scene later, in the privacy of your own dorm.

At length, Ajax finally gives his head a shake. “I didn’t know they made Sisters like you.”

“They don’t. I’m all of my own making.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He finally falls back a step with a brief nod of acknowledgment. Allowing himself one final look at you, Ajax turns away with one last word of parting. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sister. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again soon.”

Standing there in the cold and the chaffing wind, and the flurry of snow, you watch him walk away. You think you could go your whole life without having another run in with him and it would still be too soon. It wasn’t that he was just a bit strange even for a young, headstrong soldier. There was something genuinely peculiar about him. Even putting aside the way he’d kept looking at you, there was still a sense of undesirability about the whole situation. From a nuns perspective he presented a multitude of problems, the least of which being temptation that did not fall in line with your vows.

Turning your head to look at the others when he bends to retrieve the culprit from the ground and save him from the agitated rumblings of the antsy crowd, you spare Sister Darya a withering scowl. “I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

The way her eyes flash at you in mute disapproval seems to say ‘I told you so’ but you adamantly ignore it in favor of reaching for another bowl to fill. At the rate you were going it was starting to look like you’d never get that break.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything seems so normal that at first you almost don’t even realize it’s a dream.

Some distant part of you knows you’d been so tired from the food drive that you’d fallen asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow after taking a nice, long bath to rid yourself of the permanent Snezhnayan chill. But you were glad for the normalcy of it, content to meander your way through whatever your resting subconscious decided to conjure up. The first scene is a field of wildflowers that does not exist in the ice and snow of your motherland. It’s peaceful there and quiet. A welcome haven of tranquility which you dreamed of with some frequency.

You’re more than a little disappointed when it suddenly changes to the town square. One moment you’d been picking dandelions to weave into a wreath for your hair, and the next you were standing in the middle of a cold barren wasteland. The streets were empty around you, the houses dark and silent. The flowers wilt in your hands. Dropping them, you turn in a circle to survey your surroundings. Nothing looked out of place aside from the total lack of people, or even any dogs or cats roaming the area. No birds, either.

Without a particular destination in mind, you start to walk. A part of you hoped the scenery would change again and morph into a more pleasing visage around you, but that’s not what happens. It feels like you spend many minutes just walking up and down the empty streets like a lost ghost, each step its own eternity. Every breath its own death rattle. A niggling thought in the back of your mind whispers of danger, warns of something being not quite right, and yet you don’t retrace your path back to the starting point in the square. Like there was an invisible string tugging you along, you follow its suggestive pull straight through town to the church.

Despite finding this rather strange, even for a dream, you open the door and go inside without pause.

The sanctuary is just as desolate and deserted as everywhere else had been. You hadn’t seen so much as a suggestion of another living being, human or otherwise, and still the string tugs. Trance-like and spellbound, you follow the exigent summons through the grounds; past altars and holy relics, and pews and the baptistery, out into the courtyard. You cross over bare frozen ground to the monastery. Up the long flight of stairs and down the empty hall until you reach the door to your own room.

This is the first thing that gives you any real amount of hesitation but the string just pulls harder. Like a puppet under the guidance of a masterful biloquist, your hand comes up to grab the knob. You watch yourself turn it and then swing the door open. Your skin prickles with static electricity when you cross the threshold but this, too, is empty. Having half expected to walk in and find your own sleeping form huddled on top of the narrow bed, you’re strangely disappointed to find the sheets neatly made and smoothed out. They looked like they would never be disturbed again, as if the room itself had been plucked out of reality and then frozen in time and space.

You feel the string slip away then, as you’re standing just inside the doorway looking over your bed, and a rattling breath puffs out of you at its loss. It leaves you trembling with newfound life, as if whatever force served to guide you here had sedated your mind and body alike to encourage compliance. Now, though, you were suddenly acutely aware of just how disconcerting the trek here had actually been. How heavy and oppressive the static charged air really is.

Hands clenching and unclenching at your sides to restore feeling in them, you cautiously step around the room. It was not a large space and you were able to complete a full circuit in only ten steps. The bed took up a vast majority of the capacity. Your writing desk took up most of the rest. Suspiciously, you even bend to peer under the metal frame that holds the mattress, but there’s nothing there. It was just as void of life as everywhere else.

When you straighten up again something in the single small window in the room catches your attention. You squint at it a moment but your eyes can’t quite make out what it is, so you step closer. There’s a thin layer of condensation coating the glass and, thinking perhaps that was what was obstructing your view, you reach up to wipe it away. The very real sensation of cold, wet moisture under your fingers startles you more than you’d like to admit. Your foggy mind reels and stumbles over the visceral thought.

And then your eyes adjust.

A dull, muted burst of copper. Red horns. It wasn’t outside amongst the trees and the buildings, and the dark overcast sky. It was behind you.

Holding yourself achingly stiff, you slowly turn around. You’re not really sure how you maintain your cool when every inch of your skin was crawling with a violent eruption of goosebumps but you’re exceedingly glad for it as you set your sights on the monster in the doorway. It’s not just large, it’s huge. You think it must be over seven feet tall, perhaps even pushing eight, and it takes up the whole frame with its massive stature. It seems implausible for something of that size to move around as silent as any soft footed cat, but you’re positive you hadn’t heard a single sound. If this was just a figment of your imagination, you sorely hoped it would dissolve away into nothing very soon.

What you think must be its eye just stares at you though, unblinking and unmoving. This tense stand-off lasts so long, in fact, that your frightened adrenaline eventually starts to wear off bit by bit, leaving you feeling somewhat disoriented in the aftermath. Was it even alive? Had your taxed mind and body really summoned the likeness of a horrible monster just to terrorize you in your dreams? And, perhaps most perplexing of all, why did it spark a distant note of familiarity in the dregs of your memory? Almost like you’d seen it or something like it recently, but that couldn’t be true. Certainly you never would have been able to forget such a creature as this …

You just start to toy with the notion of slipping around it to get back out into the hall when it sedately lifts its arm. Frozen in place by a fresh surge of uncertainty and fear, you watch it push the door so that it swings shut with an almost casual motion. The click of the latch catching sounds like the heavy swing of an executioner's blade.

“You came.”

Its deep, raspy voice seems to reverberate in the very air itself and, finally unable to keep your nerves in check any longer, you take a stumbling step back to press into the wall. Your heart threatens to jackhammer straight out of your chest as you frantically try to process the situation. Not only was it very much alive and capable of interacting with the environment, it could also talk. You’re not sure why that disturbs you as much as it does but there’s no denying how your stomach painfully cramps with sinking dread now. Every fiber of your being thrums with the desire to run and flee, to hide from this monster, and yet you knew you were trapped in here with it. Even if you’d wanted to make an attempt at the now closed door the room was much too small. You’d never get around it.

All you can do is quake when it takes a deliberately slow step forward before stopping again. Just looking at you. Gauging your reaction, perhaps? You didn’t really care about any of that.

“What are you?” It’s little more than a frightened whisper.

“Think of me as a god come to collect on what is rightfully mine.”

Your spine snaps straight even as a disconcerted shudder races through you. “You are no god, foul beast. You’re a demon.”

The thing laughs, low and hoarse. “Close, but not quite. You may call me Foul Legacy. Or, if you would prefer, ‘master’ will suffice just as well for your role.”

“I will call you no such thing!” You hiss in indignant affront.

“You will.” It assures you, taking another controlled step closer. “If I command it of you, your only choice will be to obey. If I tell you to get on your knees and worship me then that is what you will do. I told you, didn’t I? I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”

You start to open your mouth to protest but your words fail you, and you slowly close it again. Frantically now, your wide eyed gaze scans the room looking for any sliver of hope for escape. You were cornered against the wall though. You’d never make it past this thing, and the window was much too small for you to crawl through even if it stopped long enough to let you get it open. The window …

Stealing a split second glance at the rectangle of glass just next to your head, you confirm your suspicions. The streaks left behind in the wake of your hand were still there. The cool condensation had felt undeniably real under your skin which meant, at least to some extent, this dream was a tangible one. Or maybe it would’ve been more accurate to call it a hallucination? It didn’t matter.

If this was real enough to touch then that must have meant the monster was too. It was a slim chance but maybe you could fight your way past it and get away …

“Are you so unimpressed with this form that you allow your mind to wander?” The creature remarks, but it doesn’t sound surprised or even offended at this fact. More than anything, it almost sounds amused and that is what ultimately steels your resolve. It’s mistake would be underestimating you.

“I was merely thinking how best to convey my lack of interest in you, oh great demon lord.” You volley back rather primly. “You don’t exactly look like a man, but you are shaped like one … I wonder if a good kick between the legs might get the message across.”

The fiery haired thing throws its head back and laughs. You almost lose your nerve, but you valiantly cling to that tiny spark of courage you still had left. Cautiously, you start to edge your way down the wall.

“Splendid! I would expect nothing less from my future bride! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

Stilling, you widen your eyes at it. “Your what?”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. When you should have kept moving towards the desk for the most direct path to the door you’d instead allowed it to give you pause. Even though it lasts for but a single heartbeat that’s more than enough time for the monster to act.

It’s on you in the blink of an eye. Grabbing under your arms, it hauls you straight up off your feet like you weighed nothing at all. The sudden rush of movement, the unexpected press of huge, clawed hands curling around your ribcage shocks a sharp gasp out of you. But before you have a chance to do anything else, it shoves you back into the wall with a bodily thud that makes the old rafters tremble. The impact doesn’t hurt, not really — not as much as it could have, given how strong the creature evidently is — and you just gape down at its horrid face in stunned disbelief.

You'd barely even seen it move …

“Oh, that look of surprise is quite charming on you.” It rasps, snickering low under its breath. “I knew I could rip that frigid mask away with enough time. I wonder how else you’re going to warm up for me …”

“W - what are you —“

The words trail off into nothing when the lower half of its jaw hinges open, and a long, snake-like tongue slips out to waggle tauntingly in the thin space separating you from it. Bile rises in your throat as you bring your hands up to claw desperately at its forearms but it doesn’t even seem to notice. That dreadful appendage just keeps unfurling out of its mouth, dripping threads of saliva here or there that land on the floor with soft little plops that make your stomach roil. Trying very hard not to panic, you futilely turn your head away from it.

“Do not fear what I offer you, little nun. I have every intention of making sure you enjoy this just as much as I do.”

It licks you then, that slimy tongue swiping up the side of your face from chin to temple. The wet, quickly cooling stripe it leaves behind makes you choke in disgust. You think it’s reminiscent of a dog, almost, that was much too eager to show its affection to stop long enough and consider how the recipient might feel about it. In the same breath you have the niggling thought that this was not the first time you’ve been reminded of dogs today. Before you have a chance to connect the pieces, the monster speaks again.

“You really will make the most lovely bride, you know. I’m eager to see you with my mark.”

“I rebuke it!” You snap, struggling anew against its hold. “I rebuke you, foul creature! My faith will protect me and - -“

“Hah! I’d like to see that, Sister.”

You go stock still when it says your name, and your heart skips across your ribs like a rock skimming over the surface of a lake. It felt just as heavy too, in that moment.

But the monster doesn’t give you a chance to recover and that heinous tongue flicks across your cheek to rudely slip inside your mouth. You shriek around the abrupt intrusion, eyes wide and unseeing, as the length of it just keeps coming. It squirms and wriggles its way towards the back of your throat almost too quickly for you to react. Running on instinct now, you viciously snap your teeth down but all the creature does is let out a shuddering groan of pleasure, as if it liked the pain. Your jaw loosens in surprise as much as confusion, and it takes quick advantage of that to shove its tongue straight down your gullet.

You gag on it, heaving with a violent wrench as your throat is penetrated. Tears spring up in your eyes but you can’t even scream with it blocking your airway like this. Helpless to do anything else, you just hang there and try not to pass out while it reaches deeper and deeper into you, through your esophagus almost straight down to your guts. It pauses there, giving you a moment to fully process the sensation of your whole body writhing on its tongue, before gradually starting to withdraw back the way it had come. It’s a sick, claustrophobia inducing sensation that only seems to double down when you dry heave and choke around it but, at last, it slips free of your constricting throat, and you suck in a wretched mouthful of air.

Ignoring the way you cough and spit up bubbling sheets of drool, the horned beast takes a moment to swirl its tongue around the interior of your mouth; feeling along the roof, over your tongue, tracing the outline of each individual tooth straight back to your molars. You shudder and heave, struggling to even comprehend exactly how violated you felt in the aftermath of that disgusting experience. You’d been right to call it a demon …

“You taste good.” It says when it finally starts to retract its tongue a moment later, setting its sights on lapping up the drool that coats your chin instead. “Good enough to eat, in fact. I wonder how much you’ll squeal when I feast between your legs.”

“Unhand me this instant,” You wheeze as more of your strength and will to fight slowly comes back to you with the oxygen you pull in. “You are vile and repulsive … I want nothing to do with it!”

“Oh, now that sounds familiar.”

Noising a tiny sound of confusion, you clutch its thick forearms in a death grip while it moves to set you down on your feet. You don’t trust it, not by a long shot, and your greatest fears are soon realized when its fingers curl into the fabric of your smock. The sound of straining thread reaches your ears long before it actually rips and you cry out when the first ragged strip is torn from you with a deafening tear. Piece by piece, it shreds your clothes to tatters no matter how wildly you try to twist away or cling to the quickly dwindling panels of black cotton. All too soon you find yourself naked save your stockings and the bloomers pulled over them, and your brassiere which it promptly shreds too.

Evidently saving your bottoms for last, it reaches for your veil next.

“No!” You shriek, hating the terror you can hear in your own voice as you make a useless, frantic attempt to shove the monster away.

It actually pauses even though you didn’t so much as budge it one little bit though, and it tips its head to the side inquisitively almost like … almost like a dog. There was that association again but where was it coming from? You couldn’t quite seem to remember, either due to your suffocating fear making the memory slip away or because your sleeping subconscious couldn’t quite remember enough to supply it on demand. Either way, you were sure it held the answer to your current predicament and you just couldn’t seem to grasp it.

Why did this thing seem so damn familiar to you?

“You do not want me to see your hair.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it takes everything you have not to outright scoff.

“Of course I don’t, you fiend! It is improper for a — a man, even one such as you, to look at the uncovered head of a nun who has sworn herself to the faith. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

It seems to consider that for a moment, humming softly as if in thought. “It is my understanding that, should one of the Sister’s ever take on a husband, then he alone is permitted to look upon her uncovered hair. Fine. Then I will allow you to keep your modesty until we consummate our union.”

You prickle defensively at the way it almost spits the word, as if with contempt and spite. “I will not be wed to you! I swore an oath to the church!”

“And now you will swear an oath to me.”

Hissing, it reaches out to grab at your bloomers even when you desperately try to slap its hand away. It tears them off just like everything else with neither forethought or effort, and you seethe at your own helplessness as you make one last ditch effort to wrench yourself free. But it’s too strong, too big. Just one of its hands seems to dwarf your hip when it possessively curls around your waist to hold you still. Your chest heaves with quick, panicked breaths as you tip your face down to watch it bring a claw close to your cunt, expecting it to rip off your pantyhose the same way it had all the rest. But all it does is caress over you with a thick knuckle and your face grows even hotter with indignation at the nudge. You couldn’t stand the thought of this thing touching you like this and yet you couldn’t seem to look away from it either.

“I don’t want this,” You whisper, barely even hearing your own voice over the blood that pounds in your ears.

“You will.” It assures you. Unexpectedly gentle, tentative almost, it curls its thick forefinger further back to prod at your crease and you fitfully shudder at the implication.

Was it really going to take you to wife? You’d never heard of anything more ridiculous; a nun and a one eyed demon, horns and all. It was completely useless to try and keep your cool any longer, and you outright whimper when it carefully pokes its claw up to pierce the thin layer of nylon. Hyper aware of how much it would hurt to get nicked by that sharp talon in such a sensitive spot, you force your body to stay as still as you can manage while it rips your stockings open at the crotch. Cool air wafts against your exposed cunt, making you tremble, and it breathes out a sigh of great pleasure as it teases the patch of curls there with those monstrous fingertips.

“Am I the first one to ever see you like this?”

“O - of course you are, foolish beast … I take my vows seriously. This isn’t — it’s not right, do you hear me? I was saving myself …”

Issuing a low, rasping laugh, it reaches up to palm your other hip with a muted squeeze, holding your waist in both hands now. “You were saving yourself for me. This whole time you were always fated to become my bride and you did so well maintaining the sanctity of your body but that’s all over now. You’re free to embrace your most depraved thoughts and urges. Free to languish in the licentious and erotic desires you’ve been suppressing for so long. I offer you no judgment for your human needs. Only pleasure.”

Squirming against its hold when your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest, you bring your hands up to weakly clutch its huge wrists again. You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could your body betray you over a creature like this? “No. I won’t fall for it. I refuse!”

“We shall see.”

Its tongue slips out again, curling through the air like a pink, wet serpent. Down to your chest where it takes a moment to flick over your nipple until it's coated in a fine sheen of spit and achingly stiff. You didn’t want it touching you like that but you also didn’t want to touch it, so you stop yourself from smacking at it. Just keep reminding yourself that this is only a dream — a very realistic, disturbingly tangible one, but a dream nonetheless. Whatever happened here held no weight in the real world.

And maybe … just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge in the carnal just once?

The prodding tip of its tongue gives your teat one last wet nudge before tracing a path down your front. Past your ribs and its huge thumbs bracketing your waist, over your bellybutton and straight down to brush against your curls. You shudder at the sensation, at the very suggestion of what was to come, but you don’t fight it now. Rather, you hesitantly shift your weight from one foot to the other and then cant your hips forward with a shy little push. The monster hums a rumbling sound of approval before dipping its tongue between your thighs.

Eyes widening at the feel of it on your cunt, you just stand there like a frozen statue while it traces along the seam of your body. You’d never experienced anything like it before, and you were horrified at how eagerly your loins curl in anticipation. You almost let your courage waver, almost second guess your impulsive decision to humor this at all, but until you woke up you were effectively trapped and fighting it clearly wasn’t going to do any good.

Oh, why couldn’t you just wake up from this nightmare already?

“Relax.” It breathes out, unconcerned by the glistening threads of drool that drip from its mouth. “I will not hurt you, little nun.”

You wanted to believe that very badly. Almost as much as you wanted to believe that indulging like this wouldn’t have any impact on your waking conscience.

That slimy tongue starts to push up then, pressing into your lips, and you suck in a harsh breath. It teases around your entrance for a brief moment before it starts to wriggle its way in deeper. The penetration is not unlike that of your throat — all fleshy and smooth, and damp with spit — but it still stretches you enough to toe the line of discomfort. Swaying in its hold, you let out a dizzy groan.

“Oh … that’s - -“

“Only the tip.” The thing laughs.

You try to calm your breathing as it moves around inside you to work your body open, but it’s a losing battle. The stretch of until now untested muscle makes you wince while the slimy sensation of its tongue eagerly moving along your inner sleeve just leaves you wanting to throw up. You don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this, surely. Even without any experience of your own to go off of you’d expected sexual encounters to be more intimate and less … invasive. Less like you were being probed far beyond what any human hands should have been able to reach.

But if it sees any of the uncertainty flashing across your face it doesn’t show it. The demon only worms its tongue deeper and deeper as your passage reluctantly opens until the distant sensation of it bumping the end of you knocks a harried whimper loose. It’s an uncomfortable pressure but it doesn’t hurt. You’re exceedingly glad for that as you awkwardly shuffle your feet further apart to brace against the overload to your senses. It was like burning from the inside out, and the epicenter of it was concentrated squarely in your cunt. You felt certain you were going to combust any moment now.

“Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined. And so tight, too. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock the same way.”

Your stomach clenches at the thought of how big a creature of this size must be. Fresh fear turns your veins to ice, and you weakly push against its hands. It doesn’t even seem to notice though, let alone take heed, and instead it just leisurely swirls that unnaturally long tongue around your guts. Back and forth, up and down. You’re dizzy with it and a little nauseous, but it also starts to feel good. Slowly but surely that initial discomfort fades to leave behind a thrumming vibration that makes you wheeze where you’re standing. And with it comes slick. So much slick that what you’d once thought only to be saliva quickly makes itself obvious as your cunt practically floods around the intrusion. It was impossible to comprehend the sheer extent of your arousal and yet it clearly didn’t matter. You’d toed the line a bit too close. Now there was no stopping it.

“P - please … it’s too much!”

Giving your waist a careful squeeze, the demon alters the motion of its tongue from swirling to thrusting. Sedate at first, it withdraws to drag against your interior walls when they squeeze and cling to the appendage and then it pushes back in. Right up to the end of your passage where it can’t go any further and the intense pressure makes you go cross eyed. You can’t even fully process how stuffed your cunt actually is, your legs turning weak and jelly-filled as it slowly increases the pace. The force. You’re beyond ashamed at the sticky wet clicks it pulls from between your thighs, but all you can do is helplessly writhe in its hold.

“Oh — oooh, wait … I - I can’t do this! I can’t!”

“It’s too late for that, Sister. You’re already doing it.”

You mewl at its response and throw your head back to wheeze up at the ceiling. It wasn’t wrong. You’d already crossed the line, yes, but this … this strange, unfamiliar feeling low in your gut was far beyond anything you would have ever expected from this. It was like you had to relieve yourself but also different somehow. A complete unknown you had no idea how to make sense of, and you let out a choked off squeal when the thrumming tension rapidly starts to double and then triple. No amount of thrashing was getting you out of its hold so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to dissuade it from moving inside you like that but it’s no use. Even trying to curl your legs up doesn’t work.

It just keeps fucking it’s tongue into your shuddering body without pause, and you start to feel truly dizzy as you dangle there between it’s massive hands. How could this be happening to you? And, more pressing, what was happening to you?

“You’re getting close, I suspect.” It sounds quite proud of that, but you’re a little too preoccupied with the jittery, firecracker nerves making you tremble and shake to question it. The pressure was getting almost unbearable now. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

“Ahh — ahhghnn, ooohh please Holy Mother, please help me!”

“Aww, don’t start making me jealous. I’m the only god you should be praying to right now.”

Screwing your eyes shut, you turn your face from its horrible unblinking eye but it just laughs in response. Even if you’d wanted to snap at it for being so presumptuous as to think you would worship it in any capacity, you were finding your lungs constricting far too much to draw a proper breath. Your chest heaves with the blinding tension that races through your body and then — so suddenly you don’t get a chance to realize it’s even happening, it abruptly tips over. Spills out to wrack the whole of your body and devolve you into a shuddering mess of spasms.

You shriek and yelp as your pussy almost violently squeezes down on its tongue which just keeps moving insistently inside you. In and out, in and out like a continuous piston that even your tightly clenching guts couldn’t seem to keep at bay. That slippery appendage keeps spearing through you unimpeded, forcing your roiling muscles to keep contracting with each plunge, and you very nearly pass out from how intensely the sensation hits you. It was simultaneously like drowning deep in the bottomless ocean and soaring high overhead at the same time. You couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of it.

But it starts to fade much too fast. The sharp jolts of undeniable pleasure only last what seems to you like a few seconds and then those cresting waves are rapidly receding, like the tide pulling back from the shoreline. You still can’t quite draw a full breath and yet you soon go slack as the tension drains completely to leave you twitching in the aftermath. An odd sense of elation quickly rushes in to replace it though, and you’re ashamed at how you innately warm to the monster’s presence. You couldn’t believe how good that had felt … and bless the Cryo Archon, did that make you a terrible person?

All of a sudden you weren’t so sure you cared about that anymore, and that terrified you perhaps more than anything else that had happened here in this room.

“You look so good creaming all over my tongue.” It murmurs, drawing your muddled attention away from those fuzzy headed thoughts. “And the way you taste? Burn everything, I could help myself to this pretty cunt all day. I'm eagerly looking forward to consummating our marriage on the next new moon.”

Stirring out of your post-climax stupor, you frown at it in genuine confusion. “You aren’t going to do it now?” You weren't disappointed. Surely not. Just surprised, and very confused.

The demon sighs forlornly — rather dramatically, if you were being honest — and shakes its head. “I’m afraid not. I’d like to, of course, but the mating ritual has its own rules that I can’t supersede. Oh, don’t give me that grumpy look, Sister. I’m not leaving you empty handed tonight, rest assured.”

You draw a quick breath to berate the damned thing but then it starts to pull its long tongue out of your body and you tense up, seething through your teeth instead. The sharp sensitivity still racing through your nerves made you feel raw and tender. Overwrought in the most literal sense, and it finally slips out with a wet little slurp that makes you whimper at the loss as much as at the sound. You hadn’t thought yourself capable of, well … any of that. Any of this.

How were you possibly supposed to rationalize any of it in the light of day?

You’re still trying to work that out when it carries you to the bed where it sets you down, pulls back the sheets and then tucks you in with a truly shocking amount of care. You definitely hadn’t expected that. Not that you’d expected much of anything that had happened over the course of this implausible dream, but you decide not to fight it as the monster takes a moment to brush your veil over the pillow the same as it may have done with your hair. It was all much too strange to think about right now. You could pick it apart and analyze it tomorrow, when you’d had some time to actually process these bizarre happenings.

Or maybe never, if your subconscious was kind enough to let you forget any of this had ever happened in the first place.

“Rest now.” It tells you softly in that low, raspy voice. “I will be back to claim what’s rightfully mine soon enough.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You remember everything, of course.

And somehow that doesn’t surprise you in the least as you lay there in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while warm rays of morning sunlight bounce off the stark, unadorned walls. In retrospect you’re a bit disappointed to think that you could ever be so naive. To believe you’d forget something like that … it had certainly left an impression, at least.

What does strike you as odd though is the warm, continuous cramp in your lower belly. You readily want to write it off as menses related but … that doesn’t seem right. It should have been too soon for that just yet in your menstrual cycle.

Unable to stay your gnawing curiosity any longer, you finally rip the sheets off and look down at yourself. Your plain white nightgown is a bit rumpled but given the dream you’d had that didn’t seem so strange. That’s what you try to tell the niggling voice in the back of your mind anyway as you gather it up around your waist but what you find underneath stops you cold.

Etched into the skin just over the center of your pelvis as though with ink was a four pronged, hexagonal sigil. It was faintly purple in the light, and as clear as day. But that didn’t make any sense. Or rather, you couldn’t make any sense of it at all. You’d been asleep the whole night, here in your room, and this most assuredly had not been there when you’d taken a bath the previous evening …

You bolt upright with a strangled gasp. Turning your head to look at the window sends a debilitating chill racing through your body. Through the morning condensation beading on the glass you could see the evidence of a hand smudge, right where you’d touched it in your dream.

“No.” You whisper at the glass pane and then, with more conviction, “No. That’s not possible!”

It feels like your skin is trying to crawl right off your bones as you shoot out of bed and make a beeline for the tiny closet next to the desk. You rip the door open so forcefully it rattles and groans in protest but you can’t be bothered to worry about that right now. Not when you were staring at your habits, the one you’d worn yesterday, hanging in shreds from the hanger. You couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it, but the proof of it was staring you right in the face. Even your brassiere and bloomers were torn to pieces in the little basket you kept them in on the floor of the closet. The only thing untouched was your veil. Just like in your dream … except, it wasn’t actually a dream, was it?

Too numb to even wail over this revelation, you slowly sink down to the floor and just stare at your ruined clothes for what feels like a lifetime. There had to be some way out of this mess. There had to be.

Right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The archbishop gives you an exceedingly strange look when you inquire about exorcisms, and it only continues to grow more and more pronounced the more you push the matter while also skirting around the subject at the same time. Not that you could really blame him, of course. You’d had to wait until after the morning service to corner him next to the dais before he could slip out through the side door so you’d had plenty of time to stew over everything, which meant you were coming in perhaps a little hot on the topic. That didn’t matter though. You were determined to get this resolved regardless of the cost, and if that meant having to shake some sense into him before he’d take you seriously then that was exactly what you were going to do.

Luckily it doesn’t come to that, and he eventually relents after you doggedly refused to give up your line of questioning. Giving his head a hopeless shake, he takes on the tone of someone leveling with a crazy person. “I understand your concerns, Sister, but exorcisms aren’t something that we implement unless absolutely necessary. It is very much a last resort, you see, and there is a rigorous process to even get approval for one. I’m afraid there’s not much else I can tell you.”

You remind yourself to take a deep breath and count to five before speaking next. It wouldn’t do to snap at the one person who might actually be able to help you get out of this mess. “With all due respect, Father, I don’t think that answer will suffice. Even if it’s not a full on exorcism, surely there must be smaller measures in place to help … discourage a demonic presence from returning?” Something a bit more effective than prayer and baptism evidently were.

His eyes narrowing in clear suspicion, the archbishop speculatively regards you for a moment. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Sister?”

Of course it would finally get to this point. You’d expected as much, yes, but that doesn’t make the dread wrenching at your gut any less unbearable. How were you supposed to explain any of what had happened last night when you didn’t even understand it yourself? All you knew was that your clothes were in tatters up in your dorm, the window still showed evidence of your hand wiping across it and your lower stomach …

“Ah, Sister! There you are! Just the lady I was hoping to see.”

You spin around so fast your eyes feel like they’re going to pop right out of your skull. That feeling only increases when you find Ajax standing there at the end of the pew in his neatly pressed uniform and his smile blinding under the light that comes in through the stained glass murals. Your knees buckle and almost completely give out under you when your belly twists as if someone had shoved a red hot iron into it. Subconsciously you lift a hand to cradle the spot where the tattoo was but you couldn’t quite seem to tear your shocked gaze away from him.

That was it, wasn’t it? The association.

You think that has to be right. Had never been more sure of anything else in your life, and yet that doesn’t seem half as pressing as the thrumming arousal that grips you so suddenly and so tightly it actually pulls a quiet whimper out of you. Your cunt floods with it, so much slick producing at the drop of a coin that it makes you feel nauseous and disoriented in the same breath. But how could that be? And why was he just standing there inside the church as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing?

This was hallowed ground … wasn’t it?

“W - what are you doing here?”

Grinning, Ajax tips his head to one side. Inquisitive. Eager. Puppy-like. Bless the Holy Mother, you really were going to be sick.

“Aww, come on. Didn’t I tell you already?” He laughs softly, but those blue, blue eyes reflect none of that same humor. They reflect nothing at all, in fact. “I'd hoped we’d get to meet again after our little run in yesterday, so I just figured I’d take matters into my own hands and speed it up. I brought you flowers.”

You just catch the sound of the archbishop scoffing beside you in obvious disapproval and you would have wholeheartedly agreed with him under better circumstances. But better circumstances would not have found you panting with the effort of keeping your wits about you. It was like you were suffocating under the weighty pressure of the mark branded into your skin, and it almost seems to throb as you numbly look down at the humble bouquet he holds out. You could tell it was handpicked at just a glance. Some frost growing ferns and puffy cats tails, and … purple ivy.

Affection.

Fidelity.

Wedded love.

He couldn’t be serious, could he?

The sly edge that creeps into his otherwise boyish smile seems to suggest that he was, in fact, quite serious. You stumble back a step in your reeling disbelief and the archbishop hurries to grab you by the elbow so he can steady you, but you hardly even notice the presence of his hands. Your eyes, your mind, your entire being was for Ajax and Ajax alone.

“I did not ask for flowers.”

“That’s true but I still wanted you to have them. You caught my eye yesterday, Sister. I hope you won’t turn me down.”

Confusion and uncertainty grip you in equal measure, but it is the low pulse of the mark on your stomach that truly robs you of the ability to speak. It’s hot and uncomfortable, and the way it makes your pussy sympathetically flutter in time with your heartbeat very nearly overrides all of your higher functioning thoughts. Was he really the monster that had accosted you in your sleep or … could it have been a separate entity? One he wasn’t even aware of, if he thought you could really reject him when just the sight of him standing there made you desperate to be filled again. To be feasted upon by that beast.

Slowly, you reach your hand out to accept the bouquet and the invisible string tightens its noose around you almost imperceptibly. Your fate was already sealed. You knew this to be true on an intrinsic, fundamental level.

Foul Legacy had been right to say you’d been saving yourself for it.

For him.

For this.

You would give him your sanctuary, may the Holy Mother save your soul.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #childe x reader #foul legacy x reader #self insert bullshit

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ephemerasnape · 2 months

Text

Comic! Paying the Piper

So pleased to present the following illustrations for my fic Paying the Piper. Oswald and his dynamic with Elisabeth have been captured so well in this! The comic is SFW but the fic is not.

This comic does an amazing job oversimplifying the basic premise of the first couple chapters.

✸ Paying the Piper

Ashwinder Scout x OFC The newest shopkeeper in Hogsmeade is met with an unpleasant surprise when a handsome young Ashwinder shows up at her door demanding payment.

ETA: I've made a video of this comic!

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dd122004dd · 2 years

Note

Could u do one where we die in someone’s arms?? Anyone

“I Won’t Forget You.”

Of course I can! Thank you, lovely for your kind request!

Warnings: Death, Angst, Disintegration

Summary: Ryan Clarke has been more defiant of Malivore, so he takes away something precious from him, forever.

It had been centuries since he was created. Forced to roam the world alone, collecting monsters like trinkets of his adventures, all to feed his power-hungry creator.

He’d been lonely, wandering alone took it’s toll on him, so Malivore decided to bestow upon Ryan a ‘gift’, a companion, one who was bound to him and would follow him wherever he went. His gift was Y/N, his beloved sister, the only surviving creation of Malivore, other than him, that was not destroyed.

If he believed in the gods, he would’ve said that Y/N was a gift from them. She was a joyful creature, pure in his eyes. He would’ve never believed that someone so good came from the same evil that he did, the same source that he came from.

And so, for centuries they traveled together, watching humans evolve and fighting monsters but through all of their struggles they knew that they’d always have each other, always.

“Ryan?” she asked him as they laid down in a clearing under a starry sky, the fire next to the two crackling next to them, providing them with warmth and safety.

“Hmm?” he asked her, half asleep.”

“Promise you’ll never leave me.”

He turned to her, his beloved sister, “What brought this on?” he asked her gently.

“I’m just scared. What if one day you decide you’ve had enough of me and leave like everyone else?” she asked, her voice shaky and choked up.

“I won’t leave you, baby sister. Now sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” He said, wrapping his arms around her.

How did it go so wrong? It wasn’t meant to go like this. He’d made sure that Y/N was hidden away, far away from where their creator could reach them, yet how had he found her?

They’d planned to finally run away from the clutches of Malivore. They’d planned to see the wonders of the world together, to taste the different types of food the world had to offer. Heck, his sister was more excited to simply get on a boat.

But like a dreams, this one too, shattered. Malivore found them, more specifically, he’d found her, the one weakness of Ryan Clarke, the one thing that could shatter his entire being. His baby sister.

Malivore approached the little makeshift home they’d created in the forest. He knocked down the door before entering, seeing his creation look at him like a child with it’s hand in a cookie jar.

She backed away from him, but he simply gripped her hand, putting a timer on her existence before leaving her feeling sick.

Later, Ryan came home with a smile on his face that quickly turned into a frown on seeing the broken door. Rushing in, he saw his sister, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked back and forth, softly saying ‘No’ repeatedly.

“What happened, little dove?” he asked, voice laced with concern.

She turned her gaze towards him, eyes blank before she blinked, focusing on him. She slowly whispered, “Ryan?” To which he nodded. At his reply, she threw her hands around him, sobbing bitterly.

“F-F-Father.”

“What about him, dove?”

“He-He came here today.”

At her revelation, he pulled away from her, checking her over for any injuries.

“I’m not hurt. But...he did something.”

“What did he do?”

“He-He put a timer on me. He said that by midnight, tonight, I will disintegrate, my body will cease to be and so will I. H-He said that I was a bad influence on you and this is to teach you to never go against him.”

Shocked at her reply, he collapsed on the floor, he clutched his sister to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her as he silently whispered, ‘No’ repeatedly into her hair.

She ran her hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him.

When he was relatively calm, she said, “If this is to be my last night, brother. I’d like to spend it in the clearing in the woods, the one near the river, remember? It’s supposed to be a beautiful moon tonight. I’d like to see it one last time.”

After having their last dinner together, they made their way to the clearing. Ryan sat against a tree, his sister laying in his lap, holding his hand.

“Ryan?”

“Yes, dear sister.”

“Will you miss me?”

“Of course I will. You’re the only one who made the past decades bearable. I just wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I’m afraid...you know? I’m terrified to die.”

“I know. Rest assured, dear sister that I will join you, after I have avenged you.”

“No, Ryan. I want you to live. Far away from our father. I want you to be happy, at peace. Travel the world like we’d planned to, see everything that I can’t. Maybe even find someone to spend eternity with, adopt a few gremlins to chase around,” she said, chuckling at the last part.

“Tell them about me? Tell them about their fun auntie Y/N, okay? Please don’t forget about me, Ryan.”

“I will, little dove. I won’t forget you,” he said, tears slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Choking back a sob she said, “I’ll miss you, and your terrible singing.”

He chuckled softly despite the lump in his throat. “I will bring you back, sister mine. One day.”

Sighing softly, she looked up at the sky, “Look, the moon is so beautiful.”

He turned to look at the moon in the clear sky, nodding his head he said, “Yes, it is Y/N.”

Hearing no response he looked down but all he saw was dust.

“No. No. No. Please, no. I’m not ready. I-I’m not ready to walk without you. Please come back!” He begged, tears streaming down his face as he desperately clawed at the dust that was once his beloved sister.

#Ryan Clarke #ryan clarke x reader #ryan+clarke+x+reader #Ryan Clarke angst #Ryan Clarke x sister!reader #legacies reader insert #reader insert #x reader #Golem!reader #golem! reader #platonic!reader #platonic reader insert #malivore #character death #Legacies #legacies x reader #x reader legacies

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animasola86 · 7 months

Text

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

��He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy reader insert #reader insert

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