#Ominis’ Daughter

[helenadurazzo]

Waltzing in the Undercroft

Just a little story about two love birds escaping the crowds of the Great Hall together for the next generation following the events of Hogwarts Legacy

“I see that you agree that this winter ball is growing to be quite crowded.” Gilda heard a familiar voice remark as Thomas Hearst walked to where she stood, leaning against the cold stone walls of a corridor just outside of the Great Hall, where they could still hear the music being played.

Gilda could not deny that Thomas looked especially charming in his perfectly white suit with sparkly embroidery of snowflakes on the ends of the sleeves, coat, and pants, only disturbed by a pitch black tie. His brown hair was neatly combed yet still remained the charm of its usual state from where he studied for hours on a new book on the history of magic, or examined a new gift from his mother’s own researches.

“I have never been one for this sort of thing.” Gilda admitted, even though she did like the elegance of fancy dresses, such as the long periwinkle one she wore now with sleeves reminiscent of a butterfly or moths wing.

“Perhaps we should go on a stroll, or visit a place less crowded.” Thomas advised, “If there is one thing I know, it’s that Hogwarts is practically empty when a social event is going on, a keen moment for leisurely discoveries.

Gilda’s silvery eyes lit up at the thought, “I know just the place, I can’t believe I have never taken you here before, but you’ll love it. Come on, it’s just this way, near the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom.”

Gilda did not pay attention to the length of the walk as she walked rather slowly, enjoying the company of her Slytherin classmate. After all, she had known Thomas and his brothers ever since they were children, with her father wanting her to have good relations with them like he had with Thomas’ own father, Phineas Hearst, a prominent wizard in the field of ancient runes and magic who made quite the interesting discoveries, even an ordinary person would be intrigued to hear about.

She and Thomas had always been close, being the same age and as such starting Hogwarts the same year. In fact they could have been in the same house as the sorting hat considered Gilda for Slytherin due to her ancestry and Ravenclaw for Thomas due to his naturally bookish nature, yet Gilda was placed with the eagles while Thomas resided with the snakes. However they still saw each often, due to their nearly identical schedules involving a numerous amount of shared classes, even as fifth years like they currently were, one of these classes was almost always Defense Against the Dark Arts, another reason why Gilda tried to figure out why she never showed him the secret door just down the stairs from the classroom.

“A dead end?” Thomas assumed as he walked with her towards the windows. “Although I must admit it is a charming place in its own right.”

“Not quite.” Gilda gave him a look with a clever glint in her grey eyes as she turned to the wardrobe with clocks covered along it and used her wand to shift the hands of the clock, just like her father instructed her just before she boarded the train to get to Hogwarts before her first year officially began. And thus, allowing the wardrobe to open the reveal the secret door and another winding staircase, “Follow me.” Gilda instructed, “It’s not too much further down this path.”

“This place is remarkable.” Thomas breathed as they entered the room that was dimly lit by torches. It was untouched since Gilda last used the space to study for her Transfiguration Exam and avoid her stressed out dormmates. “You found this place one day I presume.”

“Not exactly.” Gilda admitted, fully trusting one of her longest companions, she knew full well Thomas would not go blabbering around about this place like so many others. “It lay abandoned for centuries until my Great Aunt Noctua found it and she told my father about it. He used it as his own personal retreat to practice spells and studies, or when he simply needed an escape from the professors as not even they knew about this place. In fact, he would often hang out in her with your father and the Sallow Siblings they were friends with to play games of all sorts. He once told me when he was learning how to cast Confringo, he singed Sebastian Sallow’s eyebrows right off, it took forever for them to grow back.”

“I heard my father and his friends had a hideout but he never told me where.” Thomas smiled before turning to Gilda, “Do not worry, I will not say a word, I assume this place was special to your father, as it is to you.”

“I know you will.” Gilda gave him a knowing smile. “I cannot imagine my father’s reaction if I told him a place that was so dear to him was lost because of a foolish placement of trust. You’re the first person I have told about this place after all.”

“As I said, you can trust me.” Thomas stepped forward with his charming smile that made Gilda lightly blush before he turned his head, “What about this triptych over here?”

Gilda turned her head and followed him over to the wall where the magnificent piece of work stood with three painted panels. It almost felt as someone should have been standing there, but due to the light amount of damage Gilda assumed it was possible.

“I don’t know much about it to be honest, my father never told me about this and I did not bother to ask him.” Gilda informed him, “Perhaps the next time I can ask the Sallows if they know anything since it does look to be some area in the Scottish Highlands, and they know the area better than anyone.”

“My father did mention traveling through various hamlets with his friends on his weekends at Hogwarts.” Thomas noted. “Perhaps we could explore the area sometime, it looks breathtaking with that serene water and magnificent rolling of the hills in the background.”

“Well your parents did always say the world was meant to be traveled and explored.” Gilda chuckled.

“That they did.” Thomas confirmed. “Adventure is out there after all, perhaps we could go together someday?” Thomas extended his hand out to her.

“I would love that.” She placed his hand in his, pulling herself closer to him and kissing him on the cheek while standing on her tip toes.

Thomas seemingly could not help but give her a contagious smile, “Would you care to dance?” He asked her with the wave of his wand which lit up the candles of the chandelier with glowing lights and made the already present torches seem just a bit brighter. His skill in charmwork was always so enchanting that Gilda could watch him perform it all day if she was allowed to.

“Gladly.” She beamed right at him, placing her hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her waist before they used this to remaining hands to hold together as they performed the stereotypical steps to the dance, not without a few pleasant surprises and twists along the way, as Thomas did always like to do something unexpected.

Gilda was not the best at dancing but she had to admit that she did feel as if she was getting less tense with her movements the more she practiced, and succeeded more in casual environments rather than formal ones. Thomas was always patient with her, simply laughing lightheartedly with no malice whenever she made an incorrect step. Unlike him, she was not a pure blood and as such, was not expected to attend the events they hosted like Thomas was, having even traveled to France a couple of times for events due to his mother’s family. Her father always wanted to keep her as far away from toxicity of pure blood society as he could, along with dubious dark magic.

“You know, my brother would always prefer to have dates with his girlfriend in the Restricted Section.” Thomas casually commented, “While I cannot see what sort of appeal they found in that dark and disturbing area, I suppose I can see the appeal more so than ever before of having a secret retreat to be alone and sneak into.”

Gilda rather instinctively gave him a look of surprise, “I never took Zacharias to be the romantic type. I know I did not cross paths with him many times, but he always seemed invested in those peculiar independent studies of his, and if not those he was working on some sort of sneaky potions trick with Pietro Mulpepper.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Thomas laughed, “I was surprised to, but I suppose the odd location fits him, surely he means well. After all, our fathers’ friend Sebastian Sallow always enjoying going into the restricted section himself. My father did always say that the title of forbidden made something all the more alluring.”

Gilda supposed he had a bias towards his brother, although he did always seem to not approve of some of his brother’s actions now and then but could not figure out what exactly he was doing. “How is Nicolas doing these days?” She casually shifted the topic.

Thomas seemed more than happy to go away from the increasingly awkward talks of his suspicious older brother, “I am counting down the days until Nicolas finally asks Aurelia Osborn out.”

“Aurelia Osborn?” Gilda repeated, “I don’t believe I recognize the name, is she in his year?”

“A year below him actually.” Thomas corrected, “I am not surprised you don’t know her, she is a Slytherin and she tends to keep to herself, and has had trouble with Thelma Fawley before.”

“The Minister’s Youngest Child?” Gilda clarified herself continuing with Thomas’ nod, “What has Aurelia done to set her off?”

“Not sure, I typically only hear rumors.” Thomas shrugged, “But I know my brother would be happy with her and she with him from the few times I have seen them in the common room.”

Despite her father’s protection, Gilda had heard many stories of pure blood supremacy, many just from learning about her Gaunt ancestors. Luckily she did not come across many of them in the Ravenclaw common room, and very few people even knew she was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin due to her father taking her mother’s last name, the one she was given at birth. She knew that anyone who was not a pure blood in Slytherin likely had trouble but she figured the Osborns were a pure blood family, having recalled someone mentioning a ball they hosted for wealthy pure bloods before once, so unless it was just the Sacred 28 acting entitled again, she was not sure what was going on between the two.

“Hope Peeves does not have a habit of stumbling across this room.” Thomas half-joked, “I can’t stand that poltergeist, always interrupting my studies in the library.”

Gilda shook her head, “Not that I am aware of, I would just suggest it is important to make sure you are not followed and cover your tracks.”

“I would never spoil such a magnificent place for us to sneak off to.” Thomas charmingly smiled. “This place will be our little secret.”

“Of course.” Gilda held him close, and certainly knew that Thomas Hearst would be the one for her.

[vic-does-battlecats]

Stay with me

speedpaint

[killsworthss]

This was supposed to be for Halloween but got delayed cause ADHD 😅

Thanks for letting me borrow your lovely Mc’s

Cass @cesqdarque

Smile @smilenewfifthyear

Inspired by Resident Evil village

Dimitrescu vampiric daughters

A big thank you to the modding community and @ominouscorridors for teaching me how to mod. I’m so excited to share more mod I create in the future 🖤

[weirdraccoon]

During MC's villain era.

MC hunts down witch-hunters and burns them to death. Ominis tries to stop her when he and Sebastian finally catch up to her. The man MC has under her wand has burned one single real witch and six innocent young women who rejected him.

Ominis *trying to flee before the Aurors arrive*: Please, MC, you're not as evil as people say you are.

Sebastian *realizing who the man was*: He's right. You're much worse, love. Burn that motherfucker down to ashes!

[amethystandemma]

Full Name: Zelma Noreen Silverthorne

The Basics: Zelma Silverthorne is a witch that attended Hogwarts in the early 1900s. She is a very sociable girl and made a lot of friends, her closest being Evangeline Sallow. Zelma enjoys dressing up and making her own clothes for herself and her friends. Like her mother, Rhea, she is a seer.

More info below the cut

Genealogy

Family (immediate)

Ominis Gaunt (father)

Rhea Silverthorne (mother)

Family (extended)

Salazar Slytherin (ancestor; paternal)

Marvolo Gaunt (uncle; paternal)

Morfin Gaunt (cousin; paternal)

Merope Gaunt (cousin; paternal)

Hadlee Euphoric (granddaughter)

Love Interest(s) 

Jacob Euphoric (husband)

Eleazar Sallow (ex-boyfriend)

Child(ren): Azan Euphoric

Physical 

Gender: female

Height: 5’11

Eye Color: silver

Hair Color: strawberry blonde

Blood Status: half-blood

Other: her hair is usually pulled back by a headband

Other

House: Slytherin

Quidditch Position: N/A

Wand

Oak wood

12 ½  inches

Slightly yielding

Mermaid hair core

Patronus: St. Bernard

Favorite Spells: Levitation charm (Leviosa)

Pet(s)

Owlbert, a great horned owl

Content

Proposal Gone Wrong - (Part 1, mentioned & Part 2, cameo)

Gallery

[mer-se]

it’s crazy how people don’t think their death will affect people around them even if you aren’t close to them, or even if they were just semi passing encounters like no, others feel it. my neighbor died and as I park my car and look up at her dark little house it makes me so sad - I wanna go inside and turn on the lights she always has on. People notice and will feel it even if you don’t believe it.

[dittanyinbloom]

Every time I see iterations of “irl” Seb and Ominis it makes me think they are Tom Riddle’s paternal and maternal grandfathers. Mix the two and you get Tom. It’s insane.

[theealbatross]

fight the alchemy (s.s)

Plot | After a tumultuous year, Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. And he had just almost reached peace – when his brilliant, painfully observant, carelessly crude genius of a friend, Garreth Weasley, started pointing out unnecessary facts that could rip all that harmony to shreds.

or, Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.

Tags | fluff, sebastian is a thought daughter, low self esteem, seb is a playboy BUT NOT REALLY, horny thots but we keep it pg, insecurity so deep you try to fight cupid, cupid fights back

An Ashwinder’s wand to his neck and Sebastian could honestly and truly say that he was … alright.

Life wasn’t perfect, by any means. His uncle was murdered dead, an estranged twin sister in Paris who refuses to answer his letters, a mistrustful Ominis that breathes on his neck, and a tattered companionship that was barely hanging on by a thread.

But he was okay.

Thankfully, Solomon was still dead, Anne was still alive, and still cranky Ominis is now open to reconciliation. Plus, if all else had fallen, he at least managed to save your cherished friendship thanks to your forgiving nature.

Thus, as thanks to the people who had not yet given up on him, he had sworn to live the rest of his academic life as a meek, unassuming, law-abiding student of Hogwarts.

And he did such a good job at it.

The professors are now impressed at his steadily increasing grades (so much so that the Ravenclaws are now finally seeing him as a threat again) and he even managed to make Imelda’s team as her beater to keep him occupied.

The latter, however, had a grating consequence – he had become popular.

It was thrilling, at first, he went on dates to make up for the years he had lost, kissed the pretty girls because it felt like he should (as one of the few bastards lucky enough to live every raging teenager’s dream), and accepted the slaps on the face politely when they inevitably broke up.

But now he’s just gotten tired and bored of it all.

Ominis says it’s a genius’ folly, to always find a fault in something and then drop it when it doesn’t quite meet his standard of perfect. Leander says he’s just a bastard.

He cups his face with his hand, wincing. Her fucking ring caught on his skin and he can’t be arsed to suffer through the bitterness of a Wiggenweld Potion for a mere scratch.

Garreth doesn’t bother to swallow his bread before saying, “Really, mate? I thought you liked this one?”

“Liked her rack, more likely,” Andrew quipped from his seat on the stone steps of the boathouse.

Sebastian threw his scarf on his face, satisfied at his squawk.

“No talking about my ex-girlfriends,” he warned. It was one of his few rules when it came to his male friends. He may be a bastard but as someone with a sister and a couple of good female friendships, he makes it a point to never become one of those losers who talk badly about women they have a history with. Just so he can have a moral high ground when he beats up anyone who might do it to his friends.

“All right, all right,” Andrew raised his hands in playful surrender, throwing Sebastian’s scarf back to him. “But as your friend, I think it’s about time you stop swapping out girls every time you get bored of them.”

“I don’t swap them out,” he rolls his eyes. “Breakups are normal.”

“Breakups are normal,” Garreth points out. “Six breakups in 2 years is an issue.”

“Maybe I’m just meant for the bachelor life,” he mumbles, ignoring the pointed accusation from Garreth. Fucking perceptive prick. “Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate in Hogwarts, asshole.”

Garreth grins, “Natty’s great, isn’t she?”

Sebastian and Andrew both throw their scarves at him, the three of them bursting out in laughter and boos.

“To the Three Broomsticks, then?” Andrew stood up, patting his pants.

As 7th years it was nearly impossible to take a breather with the looming threat of exams that will dictate the rest of your life and the inescapable trap of adulthood that awaits them in a couple of months. So, his friends had made it a point to at least go out once every week whenever they could, really take advantage of their last year as students where they had no other responsibility but to survive the week.

In a year’s time, seeing each other as often as they do will be nothing short of a miracle.

“Leander and Everett are already there, saved up a table since it’s a Friday, it’s gonna be packed full,” Andrew explains.

Sebastian looks around, eyes scanning the castle in the setting sun. “You go on ahead I’m waiting for –”

“Sebastian!”

A flash of movement appeared rushing down the stairs towards the boathouse, your face beaming as you waved to the three of them. When you were a foot away from him you jumped into his arms, shrieking energetically when he grabbed your waist and lifted you above his head.

“Sorry, I’m late,” you pant, smiling at your friends once you’re back on the ground. “Professor Hecate asked me to stay back for a minute, something about revisions on my research.”

“I can’t believe you got permission to research in The Restricted Section after the crazy nonsense you pulled in 5th year,” Garreth shook his head. Sebastian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side, beaming in pride. Nobody knows but the two of you that the very thing you were researching were the technicalities of how you broke Anne’s curse so it could be taught to the nurses in St. Mungos and hopefully spread to the rest of wizardkind.

“It’s exactly because I had the nerve to break the rules that I was given the honorable opportunity,” you dramatically curtsied. “And they said Gryffindors were the brave ones.”

That made Sebastian laugh. Garreth blinks, eyes squinting at him for a second but he doesn’t look offended, more … focused on Sebastian.

“Alright, no more of that House Rivalry. Quidditch Season is over,” Andrew quips.

“Wiped your asses there too, Larson,” he quipped, Andrew’s jaw drops, looking at Garreth for help and receiving none. He was still staring at Sebastian, eyes shifting between him and you.

Andrew groans. “Slytherins are assholes.”

Slytherins are, apparently, also light-weights.

Well, at least one of them is.

He adjusts his hold on your body as the other hand wraps his coat around your body properly. After your last ‘improved’ butterbeer you had slumped into his lap, rudely snoozing off on the crook of his neck and refusing to wake up even when it was time for your group to leave – not that he would’ve allowed that to happen, with your demanding research it was a miracle to get you to sleep let alone let loose.

The rest of the group had gone in first to scope the scenery and bribe the patrolling Head students with leftover chips while he and Garreth were stuck carrying you and an unconscious Amit that they had managed to catch last-minute in Hogsmeade. Poor bastard.

“I was thinking –”

“Please don’t,” he groans.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian stops his fussing, barely able to use his head to ensure he keeps walking, and continue to Act Normal, now using both of his hands to hold you tighter.

“You’re drunk,” he deflects. The puffs of your breath warm his entire body.

“Because! When I think about it …”

Please, for the love of the great Merlin stop thinking.

“You’ve been inseparable from the start! I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated. You say your past relationships got boring and got annoying but you’ve never been bored and annoyed with her and you’ve been friends for years!”

Bored with you? He’s had more near-fatal heart attacks because of you than breakups. Sebastian barely had the time to be bored. And sometimes you do get at each other’s throats but it was always fixed after a proper conversation. If his killing his uncle couldn’t turn you away then he doubts anything you do could ever turn him away.

“Plus, with all the respect and love to my beautiful darling Natty, she’s a fucking catch, mate!”

If Garreth wasn’t carrying a sinless half-dead Amit, Sebastian would’ve punched him in his mouth just to stop him from talking.

“I’m just saying,” Garreth walks ahead of him, clearly aware of the fuse he had just lit. Sebastian was tempted to kick the back of his knees just for the satisfaction of seeing him fall.  “Maybe you can join the club and find your soulmate in Hogwarts.”

Garreth winks.

“We’re still accepting members.”

He’s decided.

He needs to kill Garreth.

He has not been able to sleep properly for the past week and it’s all because of that ginger prick and his needless remarks.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian’s pencil cracks in his hand.

“Is he alright?” he hears an underclassman whisper on the other table. He glances at them and they flinch. Quickly, he softens his expression ("You really need to stop scowling at people, Sebastian."), unaware he had glared at them and sent a wary smile in apology. It would just be unfair to aim his ire at innocent people when he could just use it to rip out every strand of Weasley’s hair.

“He’s been staring at that page for an hour. Maybe we should call –”

He stands up, escaping.

Sebastian never realized just how much he spent his time with you until people were looking at him funny when he was walking or sitting alone in public places. At first, he thought there had been crumbs on his face or one of his asshole friends stuck a note on his back like a kid. Plus, he hadn’t been feeling his best since that night but he thought it had been the lack of sleep.

It wasn’t until he had met Imelda on the grounds that he found his answer:

“Where’s the rest of you?”

He blinked at his captain, “I’m sorry?”

She shook her head. “Man, it feels weird seeing you alone. Did you guys have a fight? You’re usually shadowing her like a puppy after class.”

Then everything clicks, the strange looks, the feeling of missing something (like a forgotten important homework after he had reached the top of the Astronomy Tower) – it’s been a side effect of avoiding you.

Okay, it’s not that he’s avoiding you per se. He just needs space. He needs to think and he finds that can’t do that once he feels your eyes on him. With his luck, you’re going to see right through him and that would just be unideal if not a fucking catastrophe.

That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to stay off your way until he puts his thoughts in a row and finally screws his head on straight again. Or he could just kill Garreth, get sent straight to Azakaban, and avoid confronting these complicated thoughts altogether.

“I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated!”

He sits on a bench, hands on his head as he let out a prolonged groan, “The fucking bastard.”

Why did he have to point it out? Why did Garreth have to bring what he, upon reflection, had buried on the back of his head, just waiting for that one little flick of acknowledgment before it blew his brains out.

Because Sebastian is a lot of things but he’s not a fucking moron.

It’s not that the thought of being together is unpleasant. If he lets himself consider it his chest feels like it would escape his ribcage both in excitement and utter terror.

But Garreth was right: he’d never thought about it before – hadn’t thought the idea was conceivable in this reality.

He has a feeling it was his way of preserving whatever pure relationship he had left. He’s not exactly rich with true companionship and he’s not idiotic enough to risk it all over a bloody crush. 

And not just any crush – his best friend, the person who saved his life and then helped him rebuild it when he was finished smashing it to pieces. The one who never turned her back even when his blood had given up. The girl who has a line of eligible bachelors following her on their knees for a single chance, ones who could offer her more than he ever could – ones who could offer her the world.

So, yeah – forgive him, but he’s never really allowed himself to entertain the idea of them dating. Sebastian has tested his luck enough.

Unless the roles switch and he gets to save the wizarding world this time then maybe … yeah, maybe -- maybe in another fucking life.

The thought makes him stand up, walking straight out of the campus to hopefully drown the sorrows of the depressing state of his love life with the best fire whiskey Hogshead could offer. How does he even move on from this? How does he make peace with the fact that he has sealed his fate of living the rest of his life alone? 

It’s impossible, he’s decided. Even if he graduates at the top of the classes he is taking and gets accepted into the Auror Programme that Sharp had recommended him for, their social standing is still heavens apart. He’s an orphan, with a husk of an extended family and no money to his name.

It wouldn’t matter to you, never really cared for pure bloodlines or lineages and he knows anyone who brings that up when they’re courting you will receive the most disgusted look on your face. 

But he cares – you are the most special person in his life. He wants the best for you. And the best is not something he can provide.

His depressing thoughts halt as his steps falter, a familiar scent tickling his nose. A familiar scent that leads straight into the Forbidden Forest. When he looks up to the sky, he realizes the sun has almost finished setting.

She can’t be that reckless, right?

He was barely surprised when he chanted the incantation that triggered the charm they had both put in their necklaces, the sparkling thread leads straight into the forest. And if he knows you half as well as he thinks he does then he knows exactly where it’s gonna lead to.

There goes his late-night plan.

It isn’t exactly his first jaunt in the forbidden space but it still gives him the creeps especially so close to the night. Why you’re so fond of the place is something he’ll never understand.

But that’s just the way you were, just another part of your quirks that makes you so endearing.

How you throw your head back when you laugh, that you get so cranky when you’re studying that no one dares to approach you but him, even the way you messily eat your favorite chocolate pastry of the week yet never fail to share a piece with him.

With this new revelation, he bitterly accepts the reason for his philandering ways. That he simply is another prick who is coping with not being able to attain the love of his life at the expense of those poor girls.

His self-condemnation however was cut short when he heard the waterfall, not being able to help the smirk on his face when he turned the corner and found you just as he had expected: in the middle of the clear, dark, water, floating carelessly on your back.

Gods, you are a beauty. He’s always thought so, the entire male population in Hogwarts thought so too. If they somehow get to break through your walls and manage to get to know you, he might just have to beat them away with an actual stick.

“Sebastian,” you smile, his heart stops. “I knew you’d find me.”

You swim to him gracefully, barely disturbing the water with only your eyes above the water but there was no hiding the grin in your face. Like a pitiful sailor seduced by a siren, his feet dragged him to the edge, a short ledge above from where you were looking up at him.

“You left your scent on purpose,” he states, kneeling to get a closer look at you. What a beauty – mischievous, cunning, irresistible. He’s never loved anyone more. “Naughty, naughty, darling.”

She pulls herself up the ledge, their faces inches away from each other. He nails his eyes to yours so they wouldn’t be tempted to look down at your soaking figure cloaked only by a thin chemise “I had to get you somehow, knew you couldn’t resist a damsel in distress.”

“Funny,” he softly glares, chuckling when she preens, clearly satisfied that her plan worked perfectly. “With all the water in the Black Lake, you had to pick the Forbidden Forest to swim in.”

You dip yourself back down in the water, swimming away but still facing him. “Come, Sebastian. I’ve been bored all week since you’ve been avoiding me.”

Guilt runs through his spine at the sudden coldness in your offhanded comment. Clearly, his absence hasn’t escaped your notice as he had hoped.

Like a scolded pup, he follows your command to a T. Eyes never leaving your floating figure as he removed his coat, folding it neatly along with the rest of his clothes until he was left in his underclothes.

He winces at the touch of the freezing water. A heating charm would do wonders but the way your unsympathetic eyes never left his figure gave him a feeling that this was a punishment he was meant to endure.

He steels himself, diving into the water and only resurfacing when he is right in front of you. “You called?”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you splash the cold water at him, shrieking when he reaches out for your arms and barely managing to slip away.

He dives again, grinning at your confused flounder, until you realize your mistake, looking down just as he catches your waist, your surprised shriek, and his unrestrained laughter breaks through the quiet of the forest.

“You done running now, pet?” he locks his hands on your back, pushing you close until he is carrying both your weight in the water, chin resting on your chest as your hands run through his soaking hair.

Your darkened hair frames your face, like a sheer curtain it drops, teasing his cheeks, and hiding your conversation from the rest of the forest – in the dimness, your eyes have never been more radiant, even if it was clearly pissed at him.

Skinship wasn’t foreign between the two of you. When you’ve saved each other’s lives from certain death more times than you care to count, cuddling is the least of your worries.

But there is something about the forest's silence, the sparse moonlight that peaks through the dense trees, the sound of the droplets falling from your hair to the water, and the distant echoes of the animals that make everything intimate. -- more intimate than usual.

“Are you?” you throw his question back at him mercilessly, your hands on the back of his neck, locking his face to look up at you – finally at you. The weeklong separation had been torture and now that the distance had cut his regular contact with his favorite witch, he finally realized how fast his heart was beating when he was around her.

He smiles.

He was satisfied, he swore he was.

Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. He shouldn’t strive for more, couldn’t allow himself that luxury – the luxury of love, the luxury of you.

But as he stares at your eyes, as he feels the ice in your skin, as he imagines a future where it wasn't him that gets to bite the plump of your lips – that dirty, greedy part of him crawls out of the hole he had shoved it in.

He feels it win.

“Are you done running now?” you whisper, a droplet falls from the tip of your nose to the space just below his eyes, his breath hitches, like your magnetic presence had sucked out all the air of the forest.

“I wasn’t running,” she raises a brow, and Sebastian presses his lips to your ears. “I was thinking.”

“And?”

Leander was right: he really is a bastard.

But he’s a bastard who will no longer wait for another life to love you. He's a bastard who will get what he wants.

“I think,” he whispers, at peace. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday.”

[tamayula-hl]

I have illustrated many Dad!Ominis, but as I have not yet published my headcanon on DadOmi, I would like to explain it in drawing and text because I am not good at English😳

In my headcanon, Ominis discussed this with his girlfriend, MC, while he was still at school, and they chose to drop the Gaunt name and elope together. The pair jumped ship on a steamer to the USA soon after graduation. As you know, the Gaunt family has ties to the USA, as the mother of the founder of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the USA was born a Gaunt, and there is a Slytherin wand buried in the garden of that school.

(This is an illustration of that scene that I posted on Twitter in May, but there are lots of things I want to correct 😂)

They then started a new life together in the USA, where Ominis was lucky enough to get a job as an employee at MACUSA, which had just moved to New York and was short-staffed. (I have no idea of the details of how Ominis, under a pseudonym that presumably hides his Gaunt family origins, was hired as a permanent employee, and whether his obvious posh English could hide his identity in the US. Never mind the details!🤣)

And secondly, how Ominis became a father in the place where he eloped. In my personal opinion, he would surely be reluctant to leave offspring, even if he became a couple with the woman he loved. A witch named Rionach Steward, daughter of the founder of Ilvermorny School, has become so thick with Gaunt blood that she is rumoured to be a Parselmouth. She remained celibate for the rest of her life in order not to leave her cursed blood to future generations. Ominis is very serious and thoughtful and, like Rionach, would not want to leave the Gaunt blood flowing in his body to future generations.

Where Rionach and Ominis differ, however, is that he is a man. If Ominis were heterosexual and had a healthy body, it would be difficult for him to completely abstain from sexual desire for women. (As an aside, I think this dichotomy is the spice that makes Ominis' smut more attractive.)

Two young, loving people who are financially strapped and starved for entertainment are sure to indulge their carnal desires. Soon, they find out that MC is pregnant.

In other words, in my headcanon, ominis become fathers for the pathetic reason of contraceptive failure. I guess there are two sides to this, but of course I am convinced that Ominis is not the kind of irresponsible man who would run away from an unwanted pregnancy. Ominis will be very bewildered, but he will be cheerful in front of his pregnant wife and will support her with dedication, as in the manga and illustrations I posted the other day! During MC's pregnancy, Ominis will be repeatedly struck with anxiety, but as he sees his wife's belly growing bigger day by day, he will gradually develop paternal feelings for her. And after the birth of his first child, when he holds his baby for the first time, Ominis will be moved by the preciousness of the creature in his arms and the weight of life, and he will awaken as the best dad…!

I hope that Ominis, who became a father after unexpected events in his elopement, lives happily ever after, chewing on how precious a healthy family is😍.

Of course, it's all my headcanon, so I like different people's different ideas about Ominis' future! Anyway, I am happy as long as I see Ominis living a long and happy life..!

Thank you for reading my long story 🫶🫶🫶

A Japanese translation of the text is placed in undercut. (ほぼTwitterで書き散らかしていた妄想をま���めたものです。画像内の文章を和訳する元気はありませんでしたすみません…😂)

（機械翻訳にブチ込む用に書いた文章なので、��ょっと変ですがご容赦ください🙏）

私の脳内設定（headcanon）では、オミニスは在学中にガールフレンドであるMCと話し合って、Gauntの名を捨て、二人で駆け落ちすることを選びました。 二人は卒業してすぐにアメリカ行きの蒸気船に飛び乗りました。

その後二人はアメリカで新生活を始め、ニューヨークに移転したばかりで人手不足のMACUSAでオミニスは運良く職員としての仕事を手に入れました。 （おそらくGaunt家出身であることを隠している偽名のオミニスがどのように正社員として採用されたか、また、明らかなposh Englishを話す彼がアメリカで素性を隠しきれるかどうかについては、私は細かいことは全く考えていません。こまけえこたぁいいんだよ！）

ご存知の通り、アメリカのIlvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardryの創始者の母はゴーント家の生まれで、その学校の庭にはスリザリンの杖が埋まっているなど、Gaunt家とアメリカには縁があります

そして次に、駆け落ち先でオミニスがどのようにして父親になっていったかです。 私の個人的な意見ですが、彼はきっと愛する女性と夫婦になっても、子孫を残すことを嫌がるでしょう。 Ilvermorny Schoolの創設者の娘のRionach Stewardという魔女はParselmouthという噂があるほどGauntの血を濃く継いでしまいました。彼女は呪われた血を後世に残さないために生涯独身を貫いた。 オミニスはとても真面目で思慮深い性格なので、Rionachと同じように、彼の身体の中に流れるGauntの血を後世に残したくないと思うでしょう。

しかしRionachとオミニスが違うところは、彼が男性ということです。 Ominisが異性愛者で健康的な身体を持っていれば、女性に対する性欲を完全に断つというのは困難でしょう。 （余談ですが、この二律背反こそ、オミニスのsmutをより魅力的にさせるスパイスだと私は思います）

金銭的な余裕もなく娯楽に飢えた、若い愛し合う二人は、きっと肉欲に溺れるはずです。 そして間もなく、MCの妊娠が判明するのです。

つまり私のheadcanonでは、オミニスは避妊失敗という情けない理由で父親になります。 これについては賛否両論かと思いますが、もちろん、オミニスは望まぬ妊娠から逃げ出すような無責任な男ではないと私は確信しています��� オミニスは非常に困惑しながらも、妊娠中の妻の前では明るく振舞い、先日投稿したmangaやイラストのように献身的に彼女をサポートするでしょう！ MCの妊娠期間中、オミニスは何度も不安に襲われるでしょうが、日に日に大きくなる妻のお腹を見ていくうちに少しずつ父性が芽生える。 そして第一子が誕生後、初めて赤ちゃんを抱いた時に、オミニスは腕の中にある生き物の尊さと命の重みに感動し、最高のパパとして覚醒するのです…！！

駆け落ち先の予想外の出来事から父親になったOminisが、健全な家族がどれほど尊いものかを噛み締めて幸せに生きていてくれればと思います😍

もちろん、全て私のheadcanonなので、オミニスの将来については、色んな人の色んな考えも好きです！ とにかく私は、幸せに長生きしているオミニスが見れればそれで幸せなのです…！

長い文を読んでくれてありがとうございました🫶🫶🫶

[redheadspark]

Waited

Summary - Ominis and MC/reader meets their daughter for the first time.

Warnings - Just fluff with a HINT go angst!

A/N - I wrote this as a small add on from the one shots I wrote about Ominis and the little family he has! I hope you like it!

“Ah, there we are.  Let’s lay back,”

You sighed and leaned back in the hospital bed, a wave of relief and fatigue hitting you so hard that you were blinking slowly and yet still riding an adrenaline rush from what just occurred.  With your hands still shaking and your mind reeling, the nurse and Healer near you still spoke to you yet it sounded muffled.  All you could think about was your baby.

You just had a baby.

“Here she is.  Here now, here’s your mummy,” You felt a small weight of mass placed on your chest, you looking down at your eyes going wide at the sight of your baby.  A small little thing, fairly small which feels odd compared to the vigorous childbirth you just experienced.  No matter how many books you’ve read or the plenty of advice you got from others, including some of your classmates who had families of their own.  But now holding your child, it was different.  Almost like getting hit hard by a spell or some kind of hex, yet at the same time, it was just as thrilling as your first flight.

All from a baby.  From this new joy, you were waiting for.  Your daughter.

“Let’s do a check-up on her and yourself, dear,” The Healer explained as she stood a your bedside, you looking at her with a hint of concern as she threw up her hands, “Just to make sure you and your babe are safe and healthy.  Only for a few minutes, I promise,”

Reluctantly, you handed your daughter over, The Healer holding her comfortably within the crook of her arm as another Healer walked over to hand you a few freshly brewed potions.  She smiled at you, “For the pain and the fast healing,”

You took the tonic, the cool sensation hitting the back of your throat as you watched the Head Healer walk away with your daughter, who was gurgling and wiggling within her blanket.  With her pale and delicate skin and the peach fuzz of blond hair on her head, you were instantly in love with her as you felt the tonic start working along your body and under your skin.  You were focusing on your daughter as she was being checked on, though the Healer next to you rubbed your arm.

“Your husband’s been waiting for you outside in the hall, do you wish to see him now or rest?” She asked you politely.  

“Now, now please.” You said, sounding rushed at first but then calming yourself down.  She grinned, seeing how you were excited to have your husband with you in the room.  After she placed a cooling towel on your forehead, she walked over to the door and slipped out as you sat in the bed.  The Main Healer was working on your daughter in the corner, barely out of your sight behind a thin screen, and humming to herself as your baby was already vocalizing.  You were dreaming of this moment for months, starting at the very moment you found out you were pregnant.  That moment was frozen in time, you look at the Healer in shock since you went in for a check-up after being sick for a week or two.  But you were then smiling, looking down at your stomach and realizing there was life there.

The life that you and Ominis Gaunt created.

The door opened, and you looked over with a massive grin at the sight of your husband.  His wand in front of him shone a rhythmic red light, guiding him into the room with ease with the second Healer behind him.  He was sporting his Ministry of Magic clothes: a dark blue robe with his suit underneath and his blond hair pushed back smoothly.  It was cut short again thanks to a recent haircut you gave him, Ominis claiming he preferred you trimming his hair over the hairstylist in Hogsmeade.  

He nearly lost an ear from that appointment.  

“Ominis,” You breathed his name, Ominis looked in your direction and smiled at the sound of your voice.  You could see the look of relief on his face, his smile that always took your breath away was evident as he walked over to the bed.  You quickly looked over to see the Head Healer wrapping your baby back in a bundle with the blanket.

“Are you alright?” Ominis asked in concern as he found the side of the bed, sitting rather quickly with worry etched on his face.

“I’m fine, honestly,” you breathed out, Ominis smiling again as you rested against the pillows, “Sore but fine.  It was worth every second,”

“I thought of the worst,” he admitted to you sheepishly as he reached out with his spare hand to take yours.  You could feel how clammy he was with his palm against yours, but it was still strong when you saw the Head Healer walk back over to you.  Your daughter was swaddled nice and tight in a light green blanket, wriggling lightly but content in her wrap as the Head Healer placed her in your waiting arms.  Once again, she felt so light in your embrace, yet her blue eyes were watching you intensely as you grinned and felt tears in your eyes.  

Your daughter whimpered, Ominis perked up from the sound. He looked shocked, almost too shocked as he heard his child for the first time, “Is that our-“

“Daughter,” You ended it for him, seeing a soft smile on his face and looking as if he was about to break down into tears, “We have a little girl, Ominis.  Our daughter,”

“A girl?” He asked in a whisper, his voice so soft and yet about to break.  You breathed out shakily as you nodded rapidly and looked down at your baby again, her eyes still on you intensely.

“A beautiful girl,” You explained, “She has your hair, Ominis.  So light and yet fuzzy, and she has your nose too I think,”

Ominis wetly chuckled, tears were on his cheeks as he scooted a bit closer to you on the bed.  You could see the tears hitting his cloak as he wetly replied, “She’s already inherited the worst of me then.  I pity her,”

“No, not at all,” you said in a light plea as he chuckled and you giggled, “She’s absolute perfection, Ominis.  Everything about her looks perfect.”  You looked from your daughter to Ominis, seeing him try to hold it together as you were still holding your baby close.  You then thought of an idea.

“Here,” You said, taking your spare hand to his arm, “You should hold her,”

“Oh, what if I drop her?  What if—“ He was about to argue back with you, yet you patted his arm and started to move your daughter over in his direction.

“You will do no such thing.  She’s yours, Ominis, and I think she wants to meet you,” You reassured him, seeing him finally adjust and wrap his arms around her.  You watched as Ominis had your child tucked in protectively in his arms, his head tilted down in her direction as he felt her swaddle within his arms and fingers.  You were still tired and almost running on fumes, even with the tonics you drank working on overdrive within you for a speedy recovery.  Yet you were watching Ominis with your daughter, his daughter, and you never wished to look away.

With a careful finger, Ominis reached up to trace her nose, to which she cooed and smiled at the touch of his finger.  Ominis beamed from the sound of the baby, to which he leaned in a bit closer. She stayed still, watching her father just as intensely as she did when she was in your arms.  

“She’s so tiny,” he said, almost in worry as she gurgled lightly, “Are babies supposed to be this tiny?”

“She’s healthy that’s all that matters,” you reassured him as he brought her up to be nose-to-nose with him.  You lost your voice in that moment, seeing your husband and daughter have an instant connection with one another.  His nose barely touched hers, breathing in the unique baby scent she had, and you watched as she grinned and squeaked.

Ominis laughed at the sound.

“She sounds beautiful,” he breathed as you wiped your tears away gently.  He leaned up to kiss the top of her head, feeling her warm skin on his lips as he snuggled her close again, “Hello my darling.  I’ve waited quite some time to finally meet you, little one.  Your mother and I have waited, actually.  I’m already in love with you, I hope you know that,”

You saw her slightly smile from the sound of his voice, which was beyond soft and caring laced with love and peace.  Ominis laughed, “I can’t believe she’s finally here with us,”

“Here and safe in her father’s arms,” You commented in a broken tone, Ominis snapped his head over at you with a knitted brow, “I’m okay.  I’m just being a blubbering idiot watching my little family,”

Ominis smiled with a spare hand, reaching over to cup your face in his palm, “You are no blubbering idiot, sweetheart.  You are in fact a strong witch, strong enough to carry and bring our baby into the world.  I’m so proud of you, I don’t think I can love you any more than I do now,”

You kissed his palm as he looked back at your baby, who was now yawning and falling asleep in her swaddle.  As she drifted off to sleep, her head tucked into Ominis slightly and his nose grazing his vest, you clutched Ominis’s hand again.

“We need to think of a name for her,” You reminded him, “Since you were the one who wanted to wait,”

“Well, we had no clue if we were having a boy or a girl, and it was better to be surprised,” Ominis countered as he smirked back at his sleeping baby, “I don’t wish for her to have a name from my family,”

You nodded you remembering that conversation you both had a week prior.  It was going to be a mutual agreement from the pair of you: our child would not carry any name from his family lineage, “Of course.  But we do need to have her middle name be Poppy.  She needs to be named after her Godmother after all,” 

“I think that would fit her,” He agreed, “Plus I don’t think Poppy will be pleased if we used any other name.  What about….Jane?”

“Too plain,” you voiced, “Beatrice?”

“Sounds old.  It doesn’t fit our girl I think.  Maybe, Annalise,”

You shook your head, then perked up a bit from a name hitting the back of your mind.  You looked at Ominis as he was softly rocking her back and forth to help her sleep.

“Nora.” You voiced, Ominis still rocking her and yet his smile slightly got bigger as he nodded his head.

“Nora Poppy Gaunt.  I like the sound of it,” He replied, confidently.  He grazed her cheek with his finger again, though she stayed asleep and had no sign of waking up anytime soon, “Hello, our little Nora.  Aren’t you perfect already?”

You both watched and sat in silence for a few long moments as Nora was sleeping in Ominis’s arms, the bubble you three had together seemed to be strong enough to not be poked or shaken. You forgot that the Healers slipped out of the room to give you all private time together, and you were grateful.  Magic was still felt in your room with towels self-folding in the cupboards and the washing bowl magically changing to clean hot water.  His fingers traced her face to make her features, yet Nora was no phased at all as she slept on and had her first nap.  He felt her cheeks and chin, then her nose and the top of her ears.  It was as if he had the magic touch with Nora, seeing how she was letting her father touch her face with such carefulness and yet with intimacy as well.  

“Ominis,” You said his name softly, his eyes still aimed at Nora as he was still smiling and content with holding his newborn baby, “Your parents.  What are we going to say to them?”

Ominis barely looked up, the change on his face was clear at the mention of his family.  The last time you both saw them was when he told them of your engagement over a year ago, you remember that day early as you were clutching his hand tightly and facing his irate and judgmental mother and father.  Especially his father, who was furious and letting his thoughts about you be known.  Ominis immediately turned in his family crested ring to his father, ushering you out of the house as you were holding back tears and swore to his family he would no longer be in contact with them.

It was the last time you saw either one of his parents.  

Ominis stayed true to his word: relying on distant relatives to have you two get on your feet.  His relatives were kind to you, not as brash as his parents.  You saw the pain in his eyes for not having his family with him when you two were married, or even when you found your little cottage together to start your life in.  Although he missed parts of his family, he knew he could no longer go back.  

Maybe this was one of those moments.

“They will have no part of her life,” he voiced, sounding sure and true as you watched with some hesitance.  He took in a long breath, “I cannot, and will not, let her have the life that I had growing up.  A life that was cold and distant, and I know it came from my parents. She deserves better than that,” 

You felt that pain in his voice, making you place a hand on his arm as he held her close with protection and love, “And I know you would give her all the world if you could.  If there is one thing I know about you it’s this: you are not your parents.  You are far better, and Nora will know that,” 

“I don’t know if I’ll be better since I just met her,” Ominis said in worry, making you shake your head at him.

“Ominis,” You said his name, “Please listen when I say this: you are already an amazing father.  I remember when I first told you I was pregnant, you were over the moon at the thought of being a father.  You worked for months to make sure the cottage was ready for the baby, arranging and rearranging the furniture until you knew where everything was.  In fact, you were the first one to reach out to Natty and ask questions and what she did with her son and daughter.  You got so many books that some were left on the ground, yet we read through each one to be ready,”

You remembered all of those moments, Ominis rearranging the living room and small nook that was your bedroom to make sure there was room for the bassinet and the baby.  He read up on all of the books and texts, seeing and reading all the tips and tricks to childrearing. 

But most of all, he was keen reassuring you were safe and satisfied in your pregnancy.  Cooking foods you craved, rubbing your swollen ankles when you could barely walk, and picking you fresh flowers from the wildflower field outside your cottage near the lake.  He loved caring for you, asking you questions, or pondering if you felt the baby kick.  Wrapping an arm around your stomach when you two would sleep, feeling the kicking against his palm.  

He was already in love before he met Nora.

“You have been ready for her since I told you I was pregnant.  And now that I see you holding her, I know you’re going to be the best father Nora will ever have,” You promised him, sitting up a bit in the bed to kiss the side of his head lovingly and feeling him tremble against your lips, “There is no one else I would wish to raise a child with than you.  Only you, Ominis Gaunt, you understand me?”

Ominis nodded his head to then turni to face you and kiss you softly.  You felt that pain in his voice saw it in how he spoke about his parents.  All you could do was simply bring him up from being on his knees, push away the doubts that flooded his mind, and replace them with joy and happiness.  You loved everything about Ominis, from his stubbornness and straightforward phrases to his tender heart and need to do good.  You were far too in love with him to ever raise your child with someone else.

“Nora already loves you, and this is just her first hour.  She’s gonna love you for all her life, and you’ll love her until you stop breathing, won’t you?” You asked him boldly.  Ominis laughed and nodded his head as his smile was back on his face again.

“Nothing will stop me from loving her,” He swore to you as he then gestured in your direction, “And nothing will stop me from loving you either.  You both are my world now, and it's a brighter thanks to you two,”

Once again you both fell into silence, Ominis carefully placed Nora back in your hold as gently as he could to keep her asleep. 

“I shall write an owl to Poppy and Natty, as well as Garreth and Mrs. Weasley.  I’m sure they’re waiting to hear about Nora.  I’ll be only a moment or two,” He said as he moved out of the bed and stood up again.  With one more kiss against your head, he used his wand to navigate out of the room.  You were left with Nora, who had to care to wake up and listen in on her parent’s conversation.  You watched her, the reality sinking in that you were now a mother, and in charge of caring and raising a new human in this world.  What kind of witch would she be?  Kind?  Inquisitive?  Ambitious?  You had no clue.

All you could think about was the little baby in your arms, not even an hour old, and already insanely loved.

“I hope you know how lucky you are, having a father like him,” You whispered, scanning her face and grinning, “He’s an amazing man, you know.  Very kind, a bit brash and straightforward, and hardheaded.  But that’s a good thing, and I hope you inherit that from your dad,”  

Nora shifted a bit in your hold, though she was still deeply asleep and content in her swaddle.

“I think we both have been waiting for you for some time, sweet Nora.  You came at the right time when we needed you the most.  But I think your father needed you a bit more, and you are going to be loved by him far more than you can ever imagine.” You explained.  You can already picture it in your mind: Nora as a newborn being sung to sleep by Ominis, then Nora as a toddler with her light blond hair dancing behind her as she would run along the lake with you behind her.  Small moments engrained in your mind: Ominis teaching her some of his favorite songs, you show her how to skip rocks, and Ominis coaching her when the first whisps of magic appear.  

They were all beautiful moments, yet you haven’t had them just yet.

“I can’t wait to take you home and show you our garden.  I have a feeling you’re going to have a green thumb like me, I do hope so.  Your father planted a small tree for you, yesterday actually.  You decided to come into the world after he planted the tree and…” You stopped, fresh tears hitting your eyes and cheeks as you recalled the day before.

Ominis planting a small little tree he received from Professor Garlik, who gave you both the tree as a gift and a sign of a new life.  You were watching on the bench, Ominis making you sit since you were very far along in your pregnancy and were advised to be stress-free. He made sure the tree would grow in the perfect spot, finding soil that was rich and would get enough sun.  But of course, as he placed the soil over the bud, you felt your first contraction and you gasped out in pain.

Now, several hours later, you had your daughter.

“I love you so much, my Nora,” You whispered in tears, but they were tears of joy.  New life was there for you to hold, to cherish and nurture, to help grow and flourish.  Even with all the lives you lost in the past, including Professor Figg and Sebastian to Azkaban.  You wished they were here to meet Nora and to see how perfect she was, maybe play with her and give her the best advice. 

Sebastian would have been the best “Uncle” to Nora, the pair of them getting in mischief and becoming friends for all her life. Professor Figg would have spoiled her rotten and yet kept her grounded, you see him as a mentor to her as he was to you.  But they were both gone, robbed of a future and having happiness again.  One because of death, and the other because of a mistake that cost him his freedom. 

All you could do was move forward, with your daughter who was a sure sign of a new future that was bright and ready to thrive.  

You hummed and rocked Nora as she was fast asleep, just the two of you in the small hospital room as the rest of the world went on. Looking at this moment seemed like a lifetime, outlining her looks and the way her cheeks were plump along with her bell-shaped lips, you were engraining this image forever,  Deep down you knew that this would not be permanent, that her life was moving forward and there was no need to reverse.  

If only you could see the future, how the small bulb of a tree grew to be a massive tree that would stretch its limbs and branches to hover over your cottage in both protection and beauty.  And where your daughter would sit by the tree trunk, book in her lap as her long blond hair would float in the wind like the clouds, 

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[kaidynsarell]

Sebastian Sallow and the Day his Daughter Abused her Library Privleges.

🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁🌼🍁

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x Female OC, Female OC x Male OC.

Rating: Sexual content is referenced/implied

Tags: Seb is smart but also kind of dumb, cannot compute his child growing up, dating and *gasp* Book Violence (Seb insisted on that last one)

The full fic can be found below(5k words)

One shot (unless the gremlins force me to add more. I am at their mercy😅)

The “rug” had been yanked out from under Sebastian approximately three times in a matter of a few minutes. Each displacement worse than the last, and only compounded by the growing smirks plastered across both his wife’s and sister's faces. They'd not even done him the decency of trying to hide their satisfaction. Even Ominis had failed to stifle his mirth and now sat attempting to suppress waves of silent giggles Sebastian knew only too well came at his own expense.

The whole terrible ordeal had started only fifteen minutes prior when he’d Floo’d back home from his office at Hogwarts.

The position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor had come as a surprising offer nearly eight years prior.

Dinah had been stepping down from the post and had, to Sebastian’s surprise, felt he would be the most suited for the position. He'd almost wanted to decline it, given his own dalliances with the Dark Arts.

Really, he'd thought, he was the furthest thing from appropriate for that job.

If only they'd truly known the history he'd left behind in that catacomb. He couldn’t imagine any of them would be singing his praises if they caught a glimpse of the marks he’d raked through his soul. But his wife had always had this uncanny way of reminding him, convincing him really, that he was a better person than he gave himself credit for.

That, and she’d never been terribly infatuated with the secrecy required by his work with the Department of Mysteries. The “Unspeakable” job title came with about as much useful information outside of the department as the title offered, which is to say, nothing.

So, with his wife's less than secretive encouragement, he’d left his work with the Ministry and set foot in Hogwarts to assist his former DADA Professor for the remainder of that school year.

He’d have been lying if he'd said he’d never thought of teaching before. That he'd not nearly written that as one of his interests on his Career Advice form in his Fifth year and imagined the slight possibility of following in his parent’s footsteps.

Though, that particular thought had twisted in a far more vulnerable place than he ever cared to admit to.

Months later, the 1st of September had seen his official first day as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and his eleven-year-old daughter's first day as a student.

He'd watched her small frame perch on that stool at the center of the stage that day, her legs still too short to reach the ground as the sorting hat slid over her eyes and called out the name of his old house.

He'd known his Love would call him too sentimental when he blinked away tears as he'd watched his little girl with the wavy brown hair and the freckles that so matched his own hop down from the stool and scamper away to the Slytherin table without so much as a backward glance at him.

Professor Weasley had looked at him from down the staff table a little too long then, and he'd quickly swallowed several gulps of pumpkin juice in what he'd hoped was a convincing enough display to not let anyone think he'd just been crying over what was still his baby girl being sorted.

He'd deny it in any case.

Had it not been just yesterday, she'd been two years old and babbling incoherently while he balanced her on his shoulders?

Surely, she'd not actually been eleven yet.

Then, she'd joined the Slytherin Quidditch team as a Chaser in her third year, and his apprehension had tangled so closely with his pride it had been impossible to separate them. Each match had been met with both white-knuckled fear she'd be hurt and joy in seeing how she lit up with each goal she maneuvered past the Keeper.

Until the last game of that season had Slytherin facing Ravenclaw for the house cup.

He'd only just seen the Bludger before it hit her.

She'd not seen it at all, and there'd only been the collective gasp of the crowd as she'd crumpled the last twenty feet to the pitch below.

He would have bet galleons apparition couldn’t have moved him faster that day as he'd scooped her limp, unmoving form into his arms and carried her back to the Hospital Wing, ignoring the shouts of his wife and Nurse Blainey alike.

Hours later, she'd still not opened her eyes, and even the Hogwarts Matron’s reassurances that it was most likely due to the myriad of healing and calming spells placed over her had done nothing to stop the path he'd worn into the stone with the ferocity of his pacing.

She'd looked far too small and pale lying there.

Too much like...

But he'd shoved that particular thought away.

It had taken Anne, Ominis, and the witch he'd fallen for at sixteen to calm him enough to be convinced not to send his daughter to Saint Mungo's for further treatment.

"You need rest, Sebastian," his wife had said when she'd glanced up for what must have been the umpteenth time from her place in the squashy armchair she’d conjured beside their daughter’s bed to find him pacing again, book in hand. "You heard Nurse Blainey. It's a common Quidditch injury. She'll be good as new by morning."

Sebastian had only muttered a halfhearted acknowledgment before her fingers pulled through his, and she’d tugged him over to where their thirteen-year-old slept.

“This isn't like Anne, Seb.” She’d whispered so low he could just feel her breath along his cheek. “Little One is going to be okay. Her body just needs to rest.”

“I know that.” He had; it had done nothing to stop the icy lump forming in the pit of his stomach.

Somehow, he'd let her convince him to return to the large armchair. He’d pulled the woman down on top of him and buried his face into her neck.

Still, sleep never truly found him that night, and if his wife’s much too quiet breaths had been any indication, she'd slept about as well as he had.

Hadn't it only been a few days ago their daughter had turned seven and opened her first real broom--not one of those that skimmed a foot or so off the ground—but one slightly smaller than regulation that soared high into the tree tops? They’d spent hours above the back garden that day tossing an old Quaffle back and forth until the sun saw its last gold fade to ruby along the distant peaks and vanished below the skyline.

When she’d woken in the Hospital Wing the following day, the freckled girl had barely opened her eyes before asking about the match’s results. When Sebastian had gently suggested she might drop Quidditch to prevent further head injuries or, Merlin forbid, save her father a few sleepless nights, she'd looked so affronted one might have thought he'd asked her to kick a niffler.

Only two years ago had seen her sit her O.W.L.S and her career advice meeting.

With Aesop having retired at the end of the previous year, Sebastian had taken over as Head of Slytherin and sat with his little girl, for she would always be his little girl, while she'd prattled on about a list of careers she’d taken an interest in.

An Auror

A Curse Breaker

(And he’d made a mental note to have words with Poppy Sweeting, for this was clearly his daughter’s top choice for a career, and only the former ferocious little Magizoologist could have been behind this particular suggestion) A Magizoologist specializing in Dragons.

When Sebastian had dared offer the suggestion she might work for the Wizengamot or as an Archivist or study something as benign as Kneazles rather than Dragons or aim for a career with even a modicum of safety involved, the then fifteen-year-old had wrinkled her nose at him in that same way her mother always did.

"Ugh! Those are all boooorrring, Dad. I want to work with dragons."

"Absolutely not."

"But Mum and Aunt Poppy helped release a dragon from a poacher camp and returned its egg, and they were the same age as me.”

Sebastian had run a hand over face. "That was different."

That was when she'd settled back into her chair, folded her arms across her chest, and scowled at him in that way that reminded him too much of Anne, of himself if he were very honest about it. "I don't really see how."

She was more stubborn than both he and her mother combined, and Merlin help him; he'd be entirely grey before he was forty.

Hadn't she just been nine years old and still small enough to demand bedtime stories? Where had the time gone when she'd been satiated by the retelling of his and her mother’s adventures? Now, she craved adventure of her own, and he'd known he'd be a hypocrite if he stood too much in her way.

Still, the past fifteen minutes spent in the comfort of his own sitting room might have thrown him more than anything else he'd faced in the past seventeen years.

His first clue something was amiss had come only minutes before he'd taken the Floo home.

It wasn't often his daughter accompanied him back to their house in the evenings, but perks of having a parent as a professor, would occasionally return home with him once a month or so for ‘family weekends’. Sebastian would deny it if anyone suggested having his little girl home for the weekend was more for his own sanity than any amount of homesickness his daughter might have had.

Though, rather than finding her waiting for him in his office that day as he so often did, he'd found the room empty, and even a few minutes of waiting had not procured her.

It wasn’t terribly alarming. It wouldn’t even have been the first time she'd snuck home before him, ready to pounce out when he arrived home with some prank or another.

But when he’d stepped through the fireplace, she'd not been there either.

Anne, Ominis, and his wife had all been there, sitting in the living room. But there'd been no sign of his daughter.

He'd waited, still dusty from the fireplace, ready for whatever prank he was certain Anne was already in on, given the barely contained smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

He must have stood there a beat too long because his wife had tilted her head at him. "She's not coming home this weekend, Seb. Matilda’s just written. She's gotten detention for sneaking into the restricted section and for being out of bed after curfew last night."

Sebastian blinked but made no move to sit. It might have been a point of pride for him—the idea of his child sneaking off to obtain restricted knowledge— had he not already permitted her what amounted to nearly unlimited access to the Library anyway.

To any Library, really.

"But she doesn’t need to sneak into the restricted section." Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, there was something he was missing, but whatever was had been proving frustratingly elusive. "She knows I'll write notes for whatever book she wants out of there."

That had been the deal they'd agreed to from the very first day their daughter had stepped foot into that school. Sebastian would sign for whatever book she wanted from the Restricted Section, so long as she kept him updated on what she was reading and, depending on the text, read the book at home or in his office where either he or her mother could keep supervision.

He’d never been one to limit his child’s knowledge.

Perhaps he'd taken that from his parents as well.

If his daughter had wanted to sneak anywhere, there were a plethora of other off-limits areas she could find. But the Library? That didn’t make sense.

Anne had giggled behind her hand. “She wasn't alone. She got caught there with a boy."

"What does she need a boy in the Restricted Section for?"

If his twin had meant to offer an explanation, she'd done nothing more than confuse him further.

His wife sighed. "I don't imagine they were there to study, Dear. Not books, in any case."

That had earned another round of barely contained giggles, and still, they'd all sat there looking at him like he was the butt of some great cosmic joke. Waiting for him to get it, but none of the information formed a logical conclusion. Even glancing at his twin had offered little in the way of answers, and he’d generally have been able to read her better than anyone.

"And here I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, Sallow." Ominis quipped from the place he'd perched next to Anne. “They let you teach? Merlin help the children."

That was when the pieces had snapped together.

"What?! No?!" He’d hated how high his voice had climbed and how much further it climbed as he’d held his hand out at his daughter's height, just about the height of his waist. “But…but she's only—"

Anne snorted. "Sebastian, she hasn't been that tall since she was about ten."

That was when he'd made his most devastating mistake. "Who?"

"I'm not certain it matters right now," His wife had started.

Sebastian whirled around. “It does if he's snogging our daughter."

"I think you mispronounced shagging" Anne chirped.

Sebastian had made an embarrassing, strangled, screeching sort of noise then.

Images had flooded behind his eyes of his little girl crowded against a bookshelf by some faceless man pressing lips against her neck in the throes of passion. Precious tomes toppled from their shelves; spines splayed unnaturally, pages creased. The faceless man's hands maneuvering into places Sebastian had never intended to let anyone near. Ever.

He’d be having nightmares for months.

"Who?" This had now become vitally important information. He needed to know whose fingers he would be breaking.

"Oh, he's sweet.” His wife had chirped. "He's one of your favorite students, you told me so just the other week—"

Sebastian had quickly run through a list of his students and immediately decided not one of them was worthy of his little girl. Not that anyone ever would be.

Really, now that he thought of it, touching his daughter should be tantamount to a life sentence in Azkaban. Did Onai still sit on the Wizengamot? Perhaps he could get it written into law.

"--Oliver Weasley."

"WEASLEY!?!?" His voice had climbed octaves into a territory that could only be described as screeching, but Sebastian had long since stopped caring.

His fingers had clutched around his wand so tightly it might have snapped had his wife not leaned forward and pulled it from his grip. Years since he'd used dark magic against another person, and fifteen minutes had him itching for unforgivables.

"Oh, aren't they adorable?" Anne, this time, and Sebastian had snapped his gaze to his twin. "You know, Poppy says they've been spending quite a lot of time together since she partnered them on that assignment with the Dirwicals a few months ago. That must have been when they started courting."

"Months!" It came out as a squeak. “This has been going on for months?!"

Make that the fourth rug.

He may as well stay on his ass while he was down here.

><><><><

The night was for stillness. Those quiet moments whispered between shooting stars or, in Sebastian's case, breathed against his wife’s hair as she sprawled across him. Her skin bare and tacky in the early summer heat against his own, her fingers tracing constellations between the freckles on his chest.

He tipped his head down to her again and brushed his nose against those soft strands still clinging to the scents of citrus and wildflowers. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"mmm?" The witch tipped her nose up to him.

"Why didn't she tell me she was seeing Weasley? I thought she told me everything." He'd whispered that last bit so quietly a part of him hoped she hadn't heard.

But the woman in his arms just slid her hand up his neck and into the short beard he'd kept for the past seven years. "Because she knows how much you worry, Seb.”

"I don't worry that much."

It was the second time she'd laughed at him that day.

"You stayed home from work for a week and threatened to send her to St. Mungo's when she had the flu last year."

"It was a bad case,” he muttered. Cool fingers stayed against his cheek. He closed his eyes and pushed his face against them. "What if Weasley’s pressuring her into things?"

"I really don't think he is.”

Sebastian scrunched his face at that. “How can you be sure?"

Another hand in his hair, and he thought he might melt into the mattress. "Because you've shown her how she deserves to be treated, Sebastian."

He wasn't prepared for his wife to be hovering over him when he blinked his eyes open again. Nor was he ready for her lips against his jaw

"Besides," she continued, “she's as brilliant and quick with a wand as you are, and I’ve already talked to her about it.” He was already brimming with a retort when his Love placed a single delicate finger over his half-parted lips. “Trust her.”

"She's still not old enough." It seemed the only thing he could manage.

"Sebastian," another trill of laughter, "She'll be eighteen next month, and she and Oliver will both have left school. We weren't so much older than them when we got engaged."

And that sent images of white dresses and vows and his little girl’s fingers on his arm as he walked her toward a tall redhead at the other end of a long aisle racing behind his eyelids.

And that

that.

He was not prepared for.

He wasn't sure he ever would be.

It was enough to pull his Love back against him and bury his face against her hair again. "She wasn't ever supposed to grow up."

He'd deny it if anyone said his voice broke.

><><><><

Now that he was aware of his daughter's relationship, he saw evidence of it in too many places. He'd curse himself for not noticing before, or maybe they'd just stopped being as secretive about it.

His daughter and Weasley holding hands in the corridors. His daughter and Weasley sitting together at meals. The two of them leaning over the same book in the library, Weasley attending all of her Quidditch practices. The both of them in the Astronomy tower, wrapped in blankets and sipping hot chocolate after curfew.

That last encounter had earned him such a ferocious glare from his daughter Sebastian was convinced she’d been trying to shoot fire from her eyes. His wife had floo'd into his office an hour later to drag him back home and demand that he ‘stop following them around.’ Whatever arguments he’d prepared about Weasely’s egregious crime of keeping their daughter out after hours had been brushed aside as she’d informed him the aforementioned would be joining them for dinner that coming Saturday.

Weasley.

His wife had been right. Oliver was ,surprisingly, one of Sebastian’s most gifted students. Where his father may have shone as a potions prodigy in their youth, Garreth's son had a remarkable talent and understanding of defensive magic. There was a natural cadence to his dueling Sebastian had seldom seen, and the creativity of his spell combinations had been nearly unmatched that year.

Sebastian, as much as it now pained him to admit to himself, had liked the boy.

Had being the operative word.

That was before Weasley had started running hands over his little girl.

><><><><

Saturday evening rolled around to slap him across the face before he’d managed to find a proper excuse to keep the young Weasley out of his house.

Sebastian had not missed how his wife had tugged his wand from his grip when he'd stepped out of the fireplace. Nor did he miss the conveniently rounded cutlery with their meal. A hearty beef stew with chunks of a thick golden bread she’d already sliced

No need for any sharp objects at the dinner table.

Pity.

Still, Sebastian prided himself on keeping his emotions level throughout the entire meal, even if it was partially owed to his wife digging her fingers into his knee with every twitch of his jaw.

Despite all of it, Weasley had been perfectly polite and respectful. Perhaps that irritated Sebastian more as it gave him less space to cling to his newfound dislike of the boy.

Weasley had held the door for his daughter and offered his arm over the doorstep. He'd dressed practically enough not to over-emphasize his pureblood origins–not that the Weasleys were known for holding quite the same ideologies–but intentionally enough to show he'd taken the dinner seriously. He'd brought flowers for Sebastian’s wife and complimented her cooking. He’d pulled out his little girl's chair but otherwise kept his hands a respectful distance from her. He'd kept engaging conversation throughout the entire ordeal.

And why couldn't the bloke mess up just once so Sebastian could have an excuse to scream at him?

And then,

and this might have been the worst of all.

When they’d all finished their meals and retired to the sitting room for a drink, Weasley made his daughter laugh.

Not the small polite flutter through her nose he would recognize had she been trying to be nice, but hysterics that had the both of them snorting and doubled over, clutching their bellies.

Laughter genuine enough, his daughter had forgotten all pretenses of decorum and dipped her head against the boy's shoulder.

Then Oliver had looked at her.

In that gentle way, Sebastian recognized all too well, like he might have found poetry written across his daughter's skin.

And Sebastian was not ready.

Not for anyone to look at his little girl like that.

He couldn't remember what excuse he muttered when he left the rest of them in the sitting room and climbed the stairs to the small balcony just off the Study.

><><><><

The summer night was calm. Long faded past the last remnants of sunset and jeweled with the wide expanse of starlight.

Sebastian had already downed the rest of whatever amber-colored liquid his wife had poured into his glass and leaned his arms against the wooden railing. Still, even the delightful tilting buzz did nothing to distract from the patter of footsteps behind him.

"Professor?...I mean..Sir?"

Could he not have a moment's peace?

"What do you want, Weasley?"

He'd be lying if he said he'd not taken some satisfaction in how the young Weasley had flinched at his brusque response. Maybe Sebastian was still at least a little intimidating.

Even if he had needed to curl his fingers around the railing, pressed them against the wood until they might have fractured purple across his fingertips to stop his hands from shaking.

"I...well, I'd just hoped to talk to you about your daughter and...um...my intentions with her and—"

"A bit late for that, don't you think." Sebastian snapped.

"I...erm...right–" He heard the boy shuffle his feet a bit, but Sebastian made no move to turn around. He couldn't have in any case with the way he was bracing himself against the railing and fighting the dark spots in his vision. “–We...I mean, I should have insisted we talk to you first and–"

Sebastian slammed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe. He had to breathe.

“–I apologize for getting her into trouble," the boy continued. "I'd just like you to know that I care for her deeply. She...she's...well, she means quite a lot to me, and I promise I'll—”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“–and I wanted to formally ask your permission to–”

Fuck.

Not this.

He couldn't do this.

"Not...not right now, Oliver." He was certain he'd muttered something to that effect past the rush of blood in his ears, and still fighting his painfully blurred vision, he shouldered past the young man and back into his study.

><><><><

Sunday greeted late afternoon haze before Sebastian heard his daughter come up behind him.

He'd been given word that morning that she and Weasley would be spending several hours at the coast with his Wife and Anne. With that, Sebastian had suddenly felt the need to blister his hands over copious amounts of physical labor if only for the hope his aching muscles might be an adequate distraction from any thoughts of Weasley or his intentions.

She'd already settled herself on the grass beside him before Sebastian turned from the rose bush he'd been pruning. She hadn't even noticed he'd turned, engrossed as she was in plucking the wild daisies from the grass and stringing them together.

Less than five minutes and dirt had already smudged across her nose. She might have had his chestnut curls and sprinkling of freckles, but she looked so like her mother in every other way.

And that was his little girl

Except she wasn't really so little anymore, was she?

Not with her longer skirts and her hair artfully arranged on top of her head.

When had she started wearing her hair up?

As though he'd somehow given her permission to enter society and invite questions upon him about intentions, and courtings, and permissions. And hadn't she just been six years old and snarking at him because he’d plaited her hair the wrong way?

She twisted another daisy into place. "Oliver said he talked to you last night. Or tried to?"

"He did."

"He said you were angry–"

Sebastian tried not to look too pleased about it. So, the young Weasley had found him intimidating. The confirmation was good, given he'd only just managed to keep himself from collapsing on that balcony..

But Weasley didn't need to know that.

“–You shouldn't be mad at him," she added. "He wanted to talk to you a lot sooner but....but..I...."

Sebastian leaned over. "But what?"

Her fingers twisted against another white flower, but she didn't look at him. "I wanted to be sure he was worth telling you about."

"You know, you could have told me sooner."

A part of him wished she would have.

"Daaadd!" and that was when she looked up, her eyes alight with mirth. "I wasn't going to tell you about every single bloke I decided to–"

"There's been more than one?!" It was far too close to a squeak than anything else, and Sebastian decided his daughter was determined to send him to an early grave.

But when the laughter faded, her hands busied themselves against the little white flowers again. "It....it's different with Oliver, though."

Sebastian sighed. "You really like him, don't you?"

"Yeah, Dad. I really like him."

But her eyes spoke too clearly of another four-letter word, and Merlin help him; his daughter was in love with a fucking Weasley.

Another daisy twisted between her fingers. “He invited me to come with his family to the south of France this summer.”

“Oh?” It was the most noncommittal noise he could muster between clenching his fingers into the grass.

“Because of his dad. They…well, a lot of really good potioneers come out of Beauxbatons, so they travel there sometimes.” She paused a moment, and Sebastian could see the hesitation pinched in the corners of her face. “But I told Oliver I wouldn't go unless he got your permission first and—”

“Sweetheart, It’s not my permission he needs.”

It wasn’t, as much as he was loathed to admit it then.

It never had been.

“I know that it’s just—“

“Do you want to go to France with him?”

“I do!” Her fingers twisted the last white daisy of her crown into place. “But I won’t if you don't think I should.”

Was it that simple? Could he hold to the last of her kite strings? Keep her in this moment where the last of her childhood still clung to the daisies between her fingers and the smudges of dirt over her nose?

“The south of France is beautiful this time of year. You’re going to love it.”

She might have outshone the sun with how brightly she smiled at him.

“But,” Sebastian held up a finger, “ If I so much as think he’s hurt you–”

“Yeah, Dad, I know.” He wasn’t sure she could have rolled her eyes harder at him. “You’re well versed in magics that make the unforgivables look like something out of a children’s story, and there wouldn’t be enough left of the body to find.”

Sebastian couldn’t decide if he should be offended with how bored she sounded or proud she’d recited his threat so thoroughly.

He didn’t have much time to think about it before his daughter popped to her feet, dropped the crown of daisies onto his head, and bent to kiss his cheek.

There was only the softest. “Love you, Daddy”

breathed next to his ear before she was scampering off again.

And that was his little girl.

Always would be.

[evergone]

Misunderstandings

Ominis Gaunt x Reader (Jane Austen inspired)

Warnings: some angst, drinking.

Description: Ominis and the reader broke each other's hearts as teenagers. When they meet again as adults, the reader disguises herself as Natsai's cousin and they fall in love all over again.

Shoo-ing your friends away and promising each of them that you would not be long, you sat down in a quieter room adjacent to the ballroom to catch your breath. If you had to dance with one more minister or minister’s son you may well have danced yourself to death. You held your fan to your breast and fluttered it rapidly in the hopes to find some cool air in the cramped heat of the Minister for Magic’s yearly ball.

You reached for a glass of white wine from a passing server and allowed yourself the mercy of a long sip unfit for a gentlewoman of your blood. The glass came from your lips with a grateful and exhausted sigh as you turned into the table you were at and placed down your fan.

A man was sitting on the other side of the table with a distant look. His hair was bright, his skin fair, and when you attempted to catch his gaze (a fruitless action) you noticed his eyes were a cloudy sort of grey-white. He was sitting in bored silence beside a brunet man far too engaged in conversation with a woman in purple to notice his poor companion was nearly falling asleep.

“Sir, are you quite alright?” You inquired over the music being played by the young lady behind the pianoforte.

The man’s grey eyes searched for your face in vain, never landing and just moving quickly around your general space. It was an action that seemed quite familiar, and suddenly you recognised the man as Ominis Gaunt. During your Hogwarts days he had been one of your closest friends, and the object of your affection. You had ended your friendship on bad terms, and had your heart broken. On realising this, you were frozen with terror.

“Please, I suffer from blindness, my apologies that I cannot look at you when you speak to me,” said Ominis and you managed to squeak out a soft acceptance of these apologies, “This ball must be wonderful, but with my companion occupied there is not much for me to do. Never mind me, though — How is your night, Miss…?”

“Onai!” You lied, using your dear friend’s name to mask yourself from him, “I am Miss Onai.”

“As in Natsai Onai? Your voice is familiar, but I did not think…”

“Oh! She is my cousin,” you cringed as you said it, but anything to draw suspicion away from you, so you thought up the first Shona name you could think of and used that instead of your real name, “I am Tsitsi Onai. Natsai’s father’s brother’s daughter.”

Ominis’ brow creased with a frown, but he accepted her word as truth and you let some tension release from your shoulders. A quick glance to his side, and you gathered that his companion must have been Sebastian Sallow, a man whose sight was not so impaired that he could have mistaken you so easily for someone else. His presence was a danger to your lie.

“Well, I really must be going, sir,” you said as pleasantly as possible through the stress, then you stood up.

To your dismay, Ominis rose, too. It was manners and respect, is all, or at least that is what you tried to assure yourself as he circled the table to be slightly closer to you.

“You remind me so much of an old friend of mine,” he said, “Please, would you do me the honour of a dance?”

He held his hand out towards the direction of the music leaking in from the ballroom and you cursed good etiquette for forcing women to dance with every man who asked, and then you cursed yourself for ever leaving the floor in the first place. You obliged his request, and led him into the ballroom by slightly tugging at the cuff of his sleeve. He had not even bothered to tell Sebastian where he was going, and your heart panged with concern that they would never find each other again and you would end up stuck caring for Ominis until the end of the night.

The music slowed slightly as you reached the ballroom floor and his hands took their dutiful places. Dancing in itself was not a sensual touch, but even so, he touched you with such delicacy, such gentility, that you could not help but wish his hand was slightly firmer. It seemed it was not him touching you, but his shadow. Had he known who you were you would have teased him, and elbowed his hand until it was gripping at your waist as if you were the only thing stopping him from falling from a great height.

As you began to dance, conversation flowed somewhat freely. So far from anyone you knew, there was no fear of being exposed to him. You would enjoy yourself, you decided.

“You know my name, sir, but what is yours?” You asked, and he introduced himself, “I think Natty has spoken of you.”

“Goodness, you must tell me what she has said. If I have reflected poorly, I would be mortified,” he said with a flustered blush on his nose.

“Either she has not spoken at length, or I do not listen to her enough to remember anything of import. You must tell me of yourself so that I might build my own judgement,” you smiled.

“Truly, there is not much to tell,” he said modestly, “I was educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (this is how I know your cousin), and I am apprenticing to be a barrister currently.”

“And what of your hobbies? Do you fancy gardening? Music? A good game of whist?” You said.

“Recently, I have become a fan of the opera,” he explained, “My companion, Mr. Sallow, is learning Italian, so we saw Otello in London and he translated as best he could. I have seen the play, so I understood what he did not, and I much enjoyed it.”

“Molto bene! I love the opera!” You nearly grinned with excitement. “I am no enjoyer of Otello — It is regrettably muggle in its racial concerns… But I saw Faust in Paris and it was wonderful!” He nodded along as you spoke, hanging on to every word that left your mouth. “I think that performance is the magic of muggles.”

“How incredibly insightful, Miss Onai,” he said thoughtfully and you blushed, “I must agree. Wizards can perform, certainly, but we do not know art like they do.”

Soon after, the dance ended. You and Ominis exchanged bows, and you politely led him back to Sebastian. You left with a quick good-bye without much decorum at all so as to avoid being seen, but not before you gave him the address of the townhouse you were staying at with your “cousin” and friends. What did you intend to gain by giving him the address? Of this, you were not completely sure. But somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped he would call on you.

The next day, Ominis awoke with three things: a start, a headache, and a realisation. The first of these things made him gasp and place a hand on his chest, the second made him groan and order his house elf to fetch him some water, and the third made him drop his water all over himself and run into Sebastian’s room without any warning at all.

The poor brunet squinted as his friend drew back the curtains and let the sun pound in through the window. There was no clock in his room, but Sebastian could tell it was much too early for him to be awake. He voiced this complaint, but Ominis cared not, so Sebastian dropped back into his pillows and let his friend speak.

“My good man, I think I fell in love last night,” he said with wide, unseeing eyes.

This made Sebastian sit up again, this time with a curious raised eyebrow.

“Ominis,” he started, “For the last — What? Three years? — For the last three years, you have been whining about how Y/n L/n from school broke your heart. I have not heard a man so adamantly declare that he would be a bachelor for life as you. Yet, today, on this eighteenth of April, you tell me you have fallen in love!”

There was a sense of disbelief in Sebastian’s speech that made Ominis sigh deeply. He sat down on the edge of Sebastian’s mattress, and tried his best to stare him seriously in the eye (Sebastian laughed at this, grabbed Ominis’ head, and positioned it correctly).

“She was just like Y/n,” said Ominis.

Sebastian rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, knowing he was safe from being seen, but Ominis felt the movement in the air and slapped Sebastian’s arm in annoyance. Sebastian hissed and slapped Ominis back. They were as immature in adulthood as they had once been as boys.

“Well, then it was good it was just one night!” Sebastian frowned.

“I have her address,” Ominis admitted in a state of pure bliss and Sebastian threw up his arms in defeat, “I am going to call on her.”

“Do not call on her!” His nose was scrunched up in disgust.

“You should have heard her talk, Sebastian! I was so entranced that I thought she was Y/n. She sounded exactly like her,” Ominis said.

“Are you sure it was not the ghost of loves past?” Sebastian teased, “Should we be on watch for a jolly bearded giant now? And what after that? The phantom of loves yet-to-come?”

“Do not jest,” Ominis scoffed, “This woman is a needle and thread. She has sewn my heart back together.”

“And what is this seamstress’ name?”

“She is cousin to Natsai Onai, her name is Tsitsi. Is not it as beautiful as she?” Ominis mused lovingly.

“I have not seen her, so I cannot attest to her beauty,” Sebastian said, unconvinced, “In fact, you have not even seen her.”

Meanwhile, in your townhouse, you were anxiously pacing in the parlour. You had been awake since you arrived home, the jitters not offering you a minute of sleep. One of your house elves, the first to wake, had found you writing in your diary in the earliest hour of the morning and suggested you take a bath and get ready for the day in a well-meaning, but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to calm you down.

Finally, Natsai, Poppy, and Imelda awoke, and the house elf ushered them into the parlour as quickly as they were dressed. Imelda carried a cup of tea in with her, a scowl already plaguing her otherwise handsome countenance. Natsai and Poppy, on the other hand, wore looks that only read as confusion.

“Have you not slept, my darling?” Natsai asked and you shook your head vehemently.

“Oh, dear! Y/n, go to bed, please! You cannot go about your life exhausted,” Poppy said, placing a hand on your back as she tried to lead you to your room.

“Girls, I am not tired,” you said and sat Poppy down on the couch, “I have the most exhilarating, horrible, interesting, wild information to share with you about my time at the ball last night.”

This made Imelda’s ears perk up and her scowl softened slightly.

“I danced with Ominis Gaunt.”

“What?” Imelda gasped, placing her tea in her lap, “And you did not immediately tell me this in the carriage home?”

“I was far too flustered to speak about it then, Imelda!” You exclaimed, “He did not know it was me.”

“How did he not know? He may be blind, but he is not stupid — nor is he deaf, he must have recognised your voice at least,” said Imelda.

“I disguised myself as Natsai’s cousin, Tsitsi—”

“— I have no cousin Tsitsi,” Natsai interrupted.

“Well, you do now, and it is I,” you said firmly.

“How did you fool Mr. Sallow? I assume Mr. Sallow was with him?” Poppy asked, her attention entirely encapsulated by the scandal of the conversation.

“Nay,” you replied, “He did not see me. I fear I have trapped myself in a terrible lie, for I have yet again fallen in love with Ominis and know not how to tell him.”

“Yet again?” Imelda cackled, “You never fell out of love with him, Y/n. This is a continuation of love!”

“This conversation is all for naught,” Natsai said matter-of-factly, “He does not know it was you, he does not know where you live, so you will not see him again. Do not forget how he broke your heart, Y/n. Do not allow him to take hold of it once more.”

“Natsai,” you said gravely and she frowned in concern, “I told him our address.”

Natsai scoffed in a mixture of disgust and disbelief, and circled to the back of the couch so she could stare at the wall behind it instead of at your face which appeared to her in that moment as the face of a traitor to your own emotions. She could not fathom how you could be so easily deceived by your own heart (the very same heart which had not three years earlier been torn to shreds) to fall once again in love with Ominis Gaunt.

Had you forgotten how he betrayed you? How he strung you along for years like a guitar stuck playing a sad song? Had you forgotten how you ran to her in tears? To Natsai, it was only yesterday that she held you in her arms as you wailed that he was leaving you.

“I will not watch you carry the pieces of your heart back to him,” she said in a stern tone.

“My heart rebuilt itself the moment I saw him,” you told her.

She opened her mouth to say something more, but there was a knock at the door that made all four of you go silent. Your eyes made contact with Natsai’s first, but then moved over to Imelda’s as she shouted for one of the house elves to go see who was there. A little elf scrambled to the door and you faintly heard her talking to someone before she returned.

“There is a gentleman here for Tsitsi Onai,” said the house elf.

The frown on Natsai’s brow deepened, but you ignored her and went to the entryway. Ominis stood there in his day attire, fiddling with his cravat like he used to do with his tie at Hogwarts. He looked absolutely spectacular. Beside him was Sebastian, who stared at you as if he had seen a ghost, and then quite loudly announced your name, exposing you to Ominis.

“Ominis,” you said and his brows furrowed as he put two-and-two together.

You and Ominis were given space in the study while the girls entertained Sebastian in the parlour. The silence in the room was so quiet and all-encompassing that it seemed to make the room sharp and cold. Ominis was seated on the big leather chair while you leant against the desk with your hands folded in your lap.

“You lied to me,” he said finally.

“I was scared,” you admitted, “We did not leave on good terms. And to be truthful, I tried my best to escape you last night, but good manners kept me shackled to you.”

“Shackled?” he scoffed, “Well, I apologise that you had such a horrible time with me.”

“It is just like you to take that personally,” you rolled your eyes, “You had the blessing of ignorance, but I had to pretend as though everything was fine. As though I was not dancing and conversing with a man who could not care less about me.”

“It was not I who destroyed our bond,” said Ominis.

At that, you laughed loudly and sarcastically. You could not think anything but pure rage at his audacity.

“It was not I who invited you to the most romantic night of your life just to tell you that I was moving hundreds of kilometres away,” you said with venom on your tongue.

“I was going to propose to you that night!” Ominis’ voice raised and he stood up so he was facing down at you, “You kept asking me if I had some lint in my pants because I would not cease shoving my hand into my pocket — the ring was in there! And I thought that if you loved me you would ask me to stay.”

“I do love you! That is why I could not ask you to give up your career for me!” You shouted at him, your arms thrown wildly to the side, and tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

All time stopped. It did that excruciatingly painful thing where it drew itself out like a rubber band so that one second became one minute and one minute became one hour and one hour became a whole day. And then, once it felt like a week had passed, time started again, and you were right where you left off — attempting to breathe through your sobs so that the blind man in front of you could not hear you crying, even though you could see the tears on his cheeks.

“You love me?” Ominis asked.

“You were going to propose to me?” You said.

[lara-kaminari]

Mr. Gaunt

Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader (+18!)

Ominis Gaunt is not an easy man to satisfy.

Content warning: Explicit content, smut, nsfw, p in v

Ominis Gaunt is not an easy person to satisfy.

Mr. Gaunt likes a cup of unsweetened coffee waiting for him every morning on the left side of his desk, right under the lamp his best friend gave him when he returned from his honeymoon in Egypt. The cup should be at the perfect height so that Ominis can sit down and just reach out his hand to drink it.

Mr. Gaunt always likes to have lunch at the same time, in his office, without noise or distracting incidents. He likes a good piece of steak with mashed potatoes, the steak rare and the potatoes should be well trodden but should not be out of shape.

Everything must be perfect or the wrath of Mr. Gaunt will be unleashed.

She knew this, although her first time there she thought they were mere exaggerations. She was only there because her parents considered her a person incapable of taking care of herself and who “needs to know the real world.” Yeah, right, you steal a dragon's egg for a bet and suddenly you're a girl who needs to work in the summer to become a useful member of society.

But this does not feel like an adequate punishment to reform her.

It was a foolish mistake. She was in a hurry and didn't leave the cup exactly under the shade of the lamp, Ominis' hand over stretched and the object fell to the ground. A completely ruined morning. As if it couldn't get any worse, not only the mug fell, but also a small crystal figurine, a gift from the renowned bearer of ancient magic.

That's how she ended up nailed to the wall in the office, with her skirt and panties down, her tits exposed and her pussy being fucked mercilessly.

—Mr. Gaunt, please…

—Shut up, I don't want to hear your complaints.

His hips thrust deeper inside her, her wet pussy drawing him in barely able to hide her moans and in fear of being overheard by the workers in the joint room.

—O-ominis, wait, we can't be too…!

She barely manages to say another word, Ominis pushes her against the desk and rips off what little clothing she still had left. He doesn't care that her clothes are damaged or that she has to work overtime to replace the skirt that now has an unprofessional cut on one side.

Mr. Gaunt couldn't care less as he places one of his secretary's legs over his shoulders and slams his thick cock into her once again. Each thrust sends the girl's body bouncing up and down on the table, her hard, throbbing clit taking Ominis's rough caresses to her heart's content.

She reaches out to grab the sides of the desk and rolls her eyes as the head of her boss's cock slides perfectly against her g-spot. She could swear that the mere stimulation is about to make her cry.

—That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's why you piss me off, you just want this slutty cunt to be filled with my cum…

He's close, she'd be lying if she said she doesn't know when she's about to come and what her orgasms are like. Mr. Gaunt likes to cum inside her, especially when he's angry. Mr. Gaunt doesn't know that she has begun to enjoy that feeling.

A thick warmth fills her. Her body trembles once more, another orgasm rushes over her and her nails dig into the dull edge of the table. His cock continues to squirt and more cum pools in her loins. The man's seed leaks and squirts like a mess, but at least they are both satisfied.

Then it's like everything is back to normal until dismissal time when her parents come to pick her up. Everyone goes crazy when they see Sebastian Sallow and his amazing wife walk in.

Ominis Gaunt's best friends.

—How did my daughter behave today? I hope she didn't give you any trouble. —Said Sebastian.

—Not at all, she definitely didn't inherit your bad behavior.

—Very funny; darling, say goodbye to your uncle Ominis.

Ominis Gaunt is not easy to please, he has perfect standards. He is perfect. Impeccable. Flawless. Perhaps the only dirt on him is seen behind closed doors and she's not one to share his secret.

—See you tomorrow, Uncle Ominis.

[weirdraccoon]

MC: What are you doing?

Sebastian: Teaching Tom how to read.

MC: Can one-year-olds read?

Sebastian: I dunno, this one will, though.

Tom *chewing the corner of the book*

Ominis: What is he reading?

MC: "Five exceptions to Gamp's Law"

Ominis: Couldn't you at least get a children's book?

Sebastian: MC wouldn't lend me her copy of Beedle the Bard!

MC: Get your own!

[msfantasy]

Soirées

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Summary: An erotic short on Y/n and Ominis have found pleasing company with eachother. During the Gaunt soirée’s the two would always disappear into his room to read from his personal library.

Warning: smut, depictions of smut. Characters are adults.

It’s like a tradition at this point.

Every time a soirée is hosted at the Gaunt Manor; Ominis Gaunt and yourself would go upstairs to ‘trade literature’ only to get lost in the whirlwind of reading and not come down for hours, sometimes you would be stuck in the books right until the end of the party… or so your family thought.

Your parents believe you to be a shy sweet angel who’d rather seek refuge in the comfort of books, reading the night away.

Typically this would be unacceptable and typically your parents would force you to socialise, but this was THE Ominis Gaunt- the most eligible bachelor. They could only hope that your shared hobby would lead to romantic feelings being fostered in the privacy of the library.

Your family simply live in blissful ignorance.

Who would’ve thought their beloved daughter was capable of such sin?

Honestly it’s shocking to think parents are this clueless.

Whilst the Gaunt soirée continues on with ball room dancing, champagne saucers, and negotiations for pure blood pairings.

Ominis Gaunt and Y/n L/n stay hauled up in his room fulfilling the filthiest of fantasy’s. He pins you against the door, grinding into your lonesome hips as your mouths tangle and melt into each other.

You begin to tear open his trousers like a present on Christmas Day.

Too many nights you stuffed your fingers inside of yourself, desperately trying to replicate the feeling of Ominis pounding senselessly into you.

Finally you will have the relief of him inside of you.

Usually, Ominis would mock and tease your desperation and would commit himself to the worlds longest session of foreplay before even considering sheathing you onto his cock, however, tonight is different.

Ominis was equally as desperate to stuff himself into your gummy walls. He spent many nights pumping senselessly into his fist, searching ardently for that mind numbing release your pussy always draws from him effortlessly.

He moves to suck at that soft spot on your neck as his trousers drop to his ankles. You claw at your long skirt, pulling the fabric up around your waist.

Ominis holds his painful erection, pulling your leg around his waist to gain better access to the heaven he so desperately wants to plunge into.

Sliding his tip along your wet slick, he begins to sink his throbbing member into your yearning walls. Groaning low guttural moan into your ear.

He presses you harder into the door as he begins to pound you ruthlessly into the hard surface. Your gushing pussy wrapping tightly around him. His sticky breath in your ear causing your walls to flutter around his veiny cock.

“Ahh if you keep doing that I won’t last much longer~” Ominis threatens, as his hips continue to snap senselessly. “Always so wet for me- so desperate for me aren’t you?” Your eyes just roll back hearing his taunts whispered to you.

“You tease me but your the one thrusting desperately into me. I bet you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.” Ominis chocked on a moan.

Yes indeed.

It’s best to leave their darling girl alone.

Maybe the two might end up together as they read the night away.

[dittanyinbloom]

Baby Fever

Ominis Gaunt x Fem!MC. 11 years after the events of fifth year. Could been seen as a final part to Note Taking. But trilogy is so sweet I didn’t want to include smut.

Summary: Anne is struggling after the birth of her child, and Sebastian has too many kids of his own to give Anne the proper care she needs. Sebastian calls on you for help, but your husband Ominis insists on coming along despite his affinity for children. 13.3k long so grab some tea besties.

Warnings: 9.5k of fluff and angst and Ominis healing from childhood trauma and then about 3.5k of smut. Breeding kink but like- it’s sweet I swear. Maybe a bit of cockwarming thrown in there (Sorry, Jesus. I’ll repent later). Minors DNI!

.🍼🌿🍼

Y/N,

I hate to do this while business is booming for you, or should I say blooming? Sorry. I need a bit of humor whenever I can get it. Anne is not doing well since having the baby. She’s been on bed rest and she’s a complete mess. I can imagine you ridiculing me, but I am allowed to say such things. She is my twin after all.

Her husband still isn’t back from that work trip. My wife has been asking around the Ministry for me, but no one knows anything. He wouldn’t have missed the birth of their daughter. And she’s four days old now, the cutest thing, by the way. She's starting to look just like Anne’s baby photos.

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Sorry if this letter is scattered. I’ve got all four of my kids here with me. Their mother has to work while I’m taking off time to look after Anne. Obviously, someone has to earn money for the abundance of school robes we’ll be paying for in the very near future. They can’t be home alone with the youngest being only one. He’s walking now! Have I told you yet? Well, standing and wobbling. He’s getting there. Gonna be the next Slytherin Quidditch Captain in no time.

All this is to say, I need some help here with Anne. Helping her and taking care of her newborn is a two-person job. My kids make it a three-person job. I’m drowning a bit in diapers and screams and tears. Think everyone here has had a tantrum today alone, including me.

Needing your help desperately, my dear sister-in-law of mine. Don’t let Ominis roll his eyes when you read him that bit. He is my brother, blood be damned.

Sincerely,

Your Most Handsome Brother-in-law

S.S.

P!S! Please for the love of Merlin, bring washcloths. Between everything I’m trying to keep up with laundry and it’s simply impossible.

You glanced over the top of the letter once you were done reading it aloud. Contrary to Sebastian’s predictions, Ominis was not rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked forlorn and pale. Not only was he worried about Anne’s safety considering her poor condition after having the child, but he was no doubt worrying about Anne’s husband who was actually quite a lovely bloke. He fit in just right with Anne and Sebastian, and he very quickly grew on Ominis despite his attempts to keep the jokester at bay. In his eyes, Ominis had enough of that energy with Sebastian and Anne, who had been handling her curse greatly in the last few years and was back to her wild self, until the pregnancy complications that is.

What Ominis refused to acknowledge was that Anne’s husband didn’t have the mischief or malice of Sebastian and Anne. He was just a golden, loveable, arguably dopey guy. His love for Anne was so pure. He bawled multiple times on their wedding day. Being gone for so long during the latter days of Anne’s pregnancy was unlike him. And to miss the birth of his firstborn child, and likely their only considering the complications, was beyond excusable. Not that he would even try to excuse it because he was truly that honest of a man!

And then there was Anne, the most heartbreaking part of the letter. The doctors had her on bed rest seemingly indefinitely. She spent the last two months of her pregnancy in that dreary bedroom. When her husband was forced onto his work trip a week and a half ago, you closed up your magical plant shop and stayed by her side until the baby was born. A girl. She was born healthy with the cutest button nose. You held her for hours after she was born while the healers and Sebastian all huddled around Anne in worry.

Once Anne was safe and resting, Sebastian had tiredly collapsed on the couch next to you. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since you were teens still in school, causing mayhem that affected yourselves more than others. His wife had been watching over all four of their kids all day so that Sebastian could spend that moment with his twin. You put the baby girl in her uncle’s arms and the two fell right asleep just like that.

It had only been a few days, but you were wanting so desperately to get back to the little girl. And while Sebastian’s kids were a handful, to say the very least, you wanted to see them as well. You had done your fair share of babysitting those mongrels, so they were quite attached to you. Their obsession with you and inclination to always come visit and run up and down the hall of your home was actually welcomed, as crazy as that sounded.

By the time you realized you loved children and wanted some of your own, you were already deeply devoted to Ominis. Because of his past, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having children of his own. That was fine. Sebastian seemed set on having plenty for everyone.

Ominis stood from his velvet armchair and announced, “I’ll grab the washcloths.”

“Ominis, you do not have to go.”

He had stopped in the middle of the hall to ponder it. His head shook in disapproval. “I’m going to look after Anne. You’ll look after the baby. Sebastian will pack up the Quidditch team and head home so that Anne can rest in a peaceful house. Does that sound like a plan?”

You met him in the hallway and took his hands in yours. Butterfly-soft kisses were left on his knuckles. You spoke firmly and slowly to make your point. “You do not have to go with me to Anne’s. I can take care of both. It’s okay.”

“Don’t insult me,” Ominis insisted with a harsh whisper. “I won’t faint at the sight of a child, and if Anne needs me, I will be by her side. She is my sister.”

You chuckle, lightening the room for a moment, “Oh, so Anne is your sister, but you can’t admit Sebastian is your brother.”

“That’s because Anne is my sister through and through, but Sebastian can’t just claim such a title just because his kids call you Auntie. Such a thing has to be earned! Bestowed upon!”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled and smoothed his shirt across his shoulders to calm him. “You know he only says it at this point because it gets a rise out of you. And perhaps that’s why I bring it up too. You’re cute when you go red.”

“Oh, well thank you for adding to the stress,” Ominis shortly huffed in annoyance then turned to the bathroom to grab your house’s supply of washcloths.

Usually, he went along with your playful tones unless he was really out of sorts. You frown and follow right at his heels into the bathroom. “Sweetheart, we are all stressed. I’m sorry to make light of things in such dark times, but you always say you enjoy my light. I’m only trying to help you feel better.”

“I know. But right now-“ Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I just be alone for a moment? Why don’t you go pack up those strawberries for Sebastian’s kids? You know we won’t finish them before they go bad if they stay in our kitchen.”

With your head hung low, you trudged to the kitchen and began to ransack your cupboards for potential meals. If things were really as bad as Sebastian made them seem, he likely didn’t have time to cook properly for the kids, Anne, and even himself. A few sandwiches and the berries would make a healthy enough lunch. If Ominis was truly planning to go with you, Sebastian really could head home for a break like Ominis suggested. Sebastian could no doubt figure out dinner for his kids at his own home with the stress of Anne and the newborn off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” that was Ominis leaning against the doorframe to your tiny kitchen. He looked exhausted as though he fought some great battle during his moments of solitude in the bathroom. He hated this side of himself, the one that could be so cruel. With his history and his trauma from his childhood, you didn’t ever fault him for being triggered.

The entire friend group was blissful until Sebastian started having kids with his wife, which was only a year or two into having your adult jobs after graduating from Hogwarts. Ominis had gotten used to them, slightly, but now with Anne having a child, he felt like he couldn’t turn in any direction without feeling an immense guilt.

“That was hardly snapping,” you kept up your light tone. It wasn’t an act. You really weren’t fazed by his behavior. These were stressful times for everyone. “You’ve bitten me before, so I think I got off a bit lucky this time.”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. After all these years, you could still fluster him. It was actually one of your favorite pastimes. How much teasing could Ominis handle? You were always itching to find out.

“That- that was one time. And you- you said you liked it,” Ominis straightened from his lean against the doorframe as he stammered on, “And that was different.”

“I did like it,” you reassured him. Memories of that night fluttered back. The sting in your shoulder. The cold from the blood dripping down. Tasting metallic on his lips afterward… “Maybe if you would bite me more, I wouldn’t have to keep pressing your buttons to see which one ignites that side of you.”

Ominis rubbed his face as though he was tired of your antics, but his cheeks turning a deeper shade, nearly all red now, told you all you needed to know. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Didn’t I just admit to doing it on purpose?”

Ominis could hear the knife come out into the cutting board. He tilted his head. “What have you been up to in here? Thought you were going to grab the strawberries.”

“Sandwiches for everyone. Doubt Sebastian has had time to make lunch yet. I’d rather make them here than amid whatever chaos is happening there.”

Then Ominis was behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to map out where you were. It glided down to the small of your back and then snakes around the front, his other joining as his body pressed into yours from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder. His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, “Forgive me for taking my stress out on you?”

“You hardly said anything, Ominis. There is nothing to forgive.”

His lips pressed right at the back of your jaw where it met your ear. “Maybe I’m asking in advance for tonight.” Then his mouth opened. His teeth grazed your skin so lightly you thought you imagined it. And then, rather evilly in your opinion, Ominis stepped back and released his hold on you. “Hurry up with those sandwiches. I’m going to handle a few things before the trip, but I’ll be waiting by the fireplace to floo by the time you are done in here.”

Sure enough, your husband was waiting for you patiently at your fireplace after you finished packaging up the lunches. He held out a hand to steady you as you stepped up on the brick, hardly a necessary gesture, but he was being extra sweet with you while he still could.

“I put a closed sign out on the shop,” he sounded almost formal about it.

“Thank you,” you breathed out in gratitude, “I completely forgot.”

“That Alihotsy is getting a bit big for the nursery. It’s extending across the walkway. Startled me for a second.”

“Sorry. Yes. That fellow from Honeydukes is meant to come by sometime this week for it. I’ll have to write him to explain that we are looking after Anne. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if we dropped it by late at night on his doorstep?”

“Maybe tomorrow night. We’ll be too tired after this.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You always talk me into being lazy with you. Promise you won’t talk me out of it tomorrow too?”

“I would like its leaves out of the walking path, so I promise, tomorrow night we can take it to him. I won’t drag you to bed too early.”

“But I do look forward to ending up in bed with you after.” And with that, you threw down the floo power and were transported to Anne’s bungalow in Feldcroft. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the noise. There was a baby crying, kids screaming, and footsteps pounding around on the hardwood floor.

“I said to get that thing out of here!” That was Sebastian, sounding exasperated.

“I can’t catch it!” His oldest child, who was seven going into eight now, whined back.

“Then chase it out the door! It can’t be in here. It- oh! Y/N. Thank Merlin you’re here. Popped in at an awful time. Sorry for the mess.” Sebastian, while cradling his youngest in his arms, a baby who was about a year old now, kicked a few toys out of the way so you could step off the edge of the fireplace.

“Auntie Y/N!” Three children trapped you with hugs from all around. Then behind you, Ominis popped up in the fireplace and the three were rushing to embrace him as well.

You chuckled and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to ask, “Seb, why is there a chicken on the couch.”

“It’s on the-?” Sebastian turned and started to wave the brown chicken off of his sister’s couch. “Shoo! Shoo! You are lucky I haven’t cooked you yet!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your wand. “Levioso. Accio.” The brown chicken squirmed in your arm, but you held it at your hip and then turned to the three kids with an eyebrow raised. “Who brought a chicken in the house while Auntie Anne isn’t feeling well?”

None of the kids said a word, but the two oldest shoved each other while they all stared at the floor in shame. You sighed and said, “If you go and collect all the toys in the house and put them in the diaper bag, I will give you the surprise I brought.”

The kids lit up. Their guilt long forgotten.

“A surprise?!”

“What is it?”

“Ah, ah, ah. Pick up your toys first.” Then the three of them were off collecting the messing they made and putting it in their youngest sibling’s enchanted diaper bag.

You put the chicken in the backyard and came back to see Sebastian and Ominis having a chat on the couch while the baby while trying to pull itself up on the side to join in. Ominis flinched when the baby grabbed his pant leg. You were quick to dive down and pick the little one up, grunting as you did so.

“My oh my, you have gotten big! What are they feeding you? Rocks?”

“That one’s gonna win the World Cup. I just know it. Gonna be the best Beater there is.” Sebastian played with the baby’s chunky ankles while you held it. It cooed back at him as if it understood and agreed.

You laughed and moved the baby to your hip to then use your free hand to touch Ominis’s shoulder. “You wanna go check on Anne while we set up the picnic for the kids outside?”

Ominis nodded and stood up to leave. He seemed thankful to have an excuse not to join the chaotic lunch plans.

Sebastian smiled wide. “Am I hearing this right? You brought lunch?”

“Just some sandwiches and strawberries. Figured you hadn’t had the time.”

With an exasperated sigh, Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “You thought right. It’s been… a lot. The baby is sleeping now, I mean, the other baby, the newborn, Anne’s baby.” Sebastian paused for a second then whispered, “That’s still so crazy for me to say. I’m so happy for her.”

“You and your cousin are going to be the best of friends!” You told the one-year-old on your hip. So close in age. How fun! They’ll only be a year apart at Hogwarts. Bet they’ll get into even more trouble than we did.”

Sebastian covered his face and groaned. “Merlin, don’t say that. They already make me crazy as it is. Can’t imagine how I’d handle them being as wild as us.”

“Sebastian, there was a chicken on the couch when I got here. You may want to mentally prepare yourself for all sorts of Hogwarts shenanigans.”

Meanwhile, Ominis was knocking on Anne’s bedroom door and waiting to hear her voice before letting himself in. Sebastian’s kids were still being rather loud, but the decibel levels had greatly depleted. Ominis shut the door gently, but firmly, hoping to trap out any further noise. Their little feet could still be heard scampering about the echoey wooden floors as they searched for their abundance of toys to put away.

“Thought you two must have arrived,” Anne sounded exhausted. Ominis’s heart immediately ripped in two. He hadn’t heard her voice so raspy since they were teens. Anne had mostly healed from her curse. At around the ten-year mark, she decided she wanted to try for a child. She and her husband were happy and head over heels in love. They just wanted one child to share the love with. The risk was great with Anne’s past, but she didn’t want some retched curse to stop her from living her life the way she dreamed.

“And it was a good thing we did. Sebastian’s kids were terrorizing your home.”

Anne laughed at that, though it was quiet and airy. “They are just playing, Ominis. That’s why kids do. Not a dull day around here lately, that’s for sure.”

“Still, I’m sure you could rest better if it was quiet.” Ominis took a step to the right, meaning to meet her at her bedside.

“Wait-,” Anne croaked out, causing Ominis to freeze. “The bassinet is on this side. Come around to the other.”

Oh, right. Ominis swallowed thickly. He had forgotten about Anne’s baby for a moment. The room was so peaceful. It was hard to believe a child was in here with them. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Min,” Anne reassured as Ominis walked around to the other side of the bed. “Just didn’t want to bump into it and wake her. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Which was Anne’s way of gently warning him that the baby was probably going to cry for food soon that way he didn’t panic when he heard it.

Ominis cautiously sat on the side of Anne’s bed and asked, “Anything I can get for you? I’m here to look out for you, and Y/N is going to look out for the baby once she feeds Sebastian and the kids and sends them home.”

“Honestly, I was dying of boredom before you came in. Just you being here is enough.” Anne placed her hand over Ominis’s and squeezed. “And how is my Y/N doing? How’s the shop coming along?”

There was a thankful sigh of relief from Ominis’s lips at the subject change. He could talk about you and the shop for hours. “We’re loving it. She put me to work though with all the upkeep. I’m regretting cutting back my hours at the Ministry. At least they didn’t make me sweep.”

Anne’s soft chuckle sounded much closer to her normal self this time. Ominis let some of the tension in his shoulders release from knowing Anne wasn’t feeling too much pain at the moment.

“You know, they would take you back full-time in a heartbeat if you offered.”

“No, no,” Ominis quickly backtracked with a smile, “No, trust me, being at the shop is a walk in the park in comparison to the Ministry’s paperwork. The half of my week there is like a vacation. Besides, it’s right next door to the house. No travel sickness. And the greenhouse smells lovely. Much better to work in than those dingy offices.”

“Hey now, don’t talk bad on those dingy offices. I can’t wait to get back to them in a few weeks. I’ve already planned on how to reorganize mine. Bit of spring cleaning.”

Whatever was going on with Anne, Ominis had assumed it was to do with the curse. Hearing her so confidently say she would be back to work soon made Ominis tilt his head in confusion. Was she being her stubborn self, or were things not as bad as Sebastian’s letter made it seem. It was always hard to tell with the twins. Anne played everything off as fine, but Sebastian acted like Anne’s paper cuts were life-threatening.

“Planning to get back there so soon? Well, don’t strain yourself. The office will still be just as meek and dusty no matter how long you wait.”

“Suppose so. Might be nice to spend some extra time just with her.” Ominis couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew Anne was referring to the baby in the bassinet on the other side of the bed.

There was a soft knock on the door, and with Anne’s approval, you cracked the door open just enough to peek your head in. “Up for a few visitors? The kids want to say goodbye one by one. I’m including Sebastian in that category too, of course.”

“Hey!” Could slightly be heard from the hallway.

Then, one at a time, you allowed the kids to give their Auntie Anne a kiss goodbye. Lastly, Sebastian went in with his youngest in his arms. Anne chuckled at the red stains on the baby’s hands and shirt from the strawberries. She could picture how it probably mashed the berry in its hand before shoving it in its mouth and likely missing its mouth entirely so that the strawberry ended up mostly on the ground. Her heart tinged a bit. She wished she could have joined them for lunch and not been forced to stay in her tiny bedroom.

“Get some rest,” Sebastian mumbled as he kissed her forehead.

“You too,” Anne replied. “Thank you for looking out for me these past couple of days, but go home and relax. Ominis and Y/N will take good care of us here.”

Then Ominis felt a hand on his shoulder. By the way it lightly massaged him, he instantly knew it was his wife. She leaned in close to whisper to him, “I’m going to walk Seb and the kids home to make sure none of them wander off. They’re a bit ornery today. Will you be okay without me?”

A pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach. Ominis hated that he was the one you were worried about leaving while Anne was quite literally bedridden. It was embarrassing that you felt as though you needed to check in with him before taking a quick walk just a few houses down to Sebastian’s place. His…affinity to kids was bad, he knew that, he knew that you knew that and that’s why you were being overly protective. Still, it hurt his ego just a bit.

“Take your time. We’ll be okay here,” Ominis whispered back, trying his best not to sound short. If there was any uneasiness in his tone, he knew you would drop everything to comfort him. That couldn’t happen now. Sebastian might have needed your help walking the kids back, but Ominis knew that it was partially an excuse on your part to spend more time with them. He didn’t want to take that from you.

The baby, well, Anne’s baby was sleeping anyway. Sebastian’s was blowing raspberries while Anne was cooing a goodbye to it.

He waited until he heard the front door close to admit to Anne, “You asked how she’s doing… I don’t think she’s happy.”

“With the store?” There was a hint of terror in her voice as if Anne feared it was something worse.

After a moment of silence, Ominis shook his head no. “I can tell she wants more. She grew up in a big family and then Hogwarts was always just as loud and chaotic. At first, I think she appreciated the peace and quiet after we got our house, but lately… Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night and she’s gone. She goes and falls asleep by the gramophone in the living room as if she needs the noise for comfort.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder as Anne said, “Oh, Ominis…”

“I think she would be happier if she were with someone that could provide what she wanted, but she’d never admit that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I know you can’t see the way she looks at you, but you’re her world. Don’t ever even suggest such a thing to her. It would shatter her. She is happy with you, just you. We’ve talked about it before, she and I. She is content with being an aunt to Sebastian’s kids, and now my girl. Please don’t worry over this in the slightest.”

Anne’s comfort eased his pain, but the guilt of it all still weighed him down. They chatted for a while about Sebastian’s wife and her exciting job until you made it back to the house. You leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and listened to the two old friends talk for a while before interrupting, “Do you want to have a bath while I change your sheets for you, Anne?”

“Is that your way of saying I smell?”

“Your hair is a bit of a mess,” you joked as you walked up to her side of the bed and gently moved the bassinet so that you could help Anne up.

At the sound of shuffling and Anne wincing, Ominis offered, “Do you want me to-“

“It’s alright,” you said, suspiciously quick. “Us girls have got this. I’ll just set Anne up in the bath. Do you want to start removing the blankets?”

Ominis stood from the bed and started to remove the covers at your request, albeit a bit reluctantly due to his confusion and frustration. Why didn’t you let him carry Anne to the bathroom? It wasn’t like the intimacy mattered. He couldn’t see.

Wordlessly, he carried the laundry to the back porch and then felt through the linen closet for another set. The two of you met back in Anne’s room at the same time. You kissed his cheek and took the fitted sheet from him to start unfolding it. That was the only covering you managed to get on before the baby stirred in the bassinet. It started to cry out, loud and demanding. Ominis flinched and clutched the blanket he was holding while you scooped the baby up in your arms.

“Oh, that sounds like a hungry cry,” Your voice was soft and unfazed by the cries. “Come on. To the kitchen, we go. I’m going to show your Uncle Omi how to make a bottle for you.”

Ominis tensed at that. “Why? I thought we agreed that I take care of Anne and you take care of…her.”

“If we really are going to be here the next few days helping out, you might as well learn.” You didn’t say anything more as you headed to the kitchen. It was up to Ominis whether or not he followed.

And follow he did with a heavy sigh. Anne’s kitchen was far more spacious than your own. He still hadn’t mapped out where everything was since it all seemed to spread apart. There was even room under the south-facing window for a breakfast nook area that had the perfect view of Feldcroft. You stared out at it wistfully. Down the way a bit, you could make out Sebastian’s two oldest digging away in their front yard. They had told you on the walk back that they had been trying to dig to the center of the earth. You had laughed and told them they would need a pretty long ladder, but you didn’t discourage their determination.

“Do you want to hold her while I grab the-“

“Just tell me where it is,” Ominis insisted, sounding a bit exasperated. His heated tone made you giggle. When you first met him, he used to always be on edge like this. There was a cold exterior about him that was snappy and sarcastic. In his defense, Sebastian was putting him through a lot at the time with his unforgiving plight to find a cure for Anne. But you didn’t mind it then just like you didn’t mind it now. Ominis was complicated, and that’s what drew you in.

“A step forward and to your left. Should be a cylinder tin on the second shelf of the cupboard.” Your direction was easy to understand and deeply appreciated.

Sometimes at work with the Ministry, Ominis would ask something like, “Which one?” Only for his coworker to inevitably reply something stupid like, “The green one.” He never had to prod you for more information. If only he could bring you everywhere to direct him like this. Though, maybe not while you held a crying baby in your arms.

“I’m putting an empty bottle right beside the tin here. But first, we need to set up the kettle.”

“Are we making tea for Anne?” This he was familiar with even in Anne’s kitchen. Ominis made quick work of taking the kettle from the stove and filling it in the sink.

“Just heating up the water a bit. Not too hot. I’ll show you how to check the temperature after we’re done. While that’s heating, you can measure the power. There should already be a scooper in the tin. Two scoops should be plenty. She’s still so tiny.” You took a moment to admire the baby girl in your arms. She really was the spitting image of Anne.

While you rocked her to soothe her cries, Ominis poured two scoops of the formula into the bottle and tried not to grimace at the sour smell of it. Now he understood why babies smelled the way they did. It was a mix of this awful powdered milk and the starchiness of baby powder. Very off-putting and unpleasant.

“Water should be warm enough now. I’ll tell you when to stop pouring. Go slow,” you directed. You stopped him just at just a quarter full and reached to touch the bottle to feel how hot the water was. “Just a splash of cold water and that should be perfect.” Ominis brought the bottle to the sink and literally just let the smallest splash into it. You giggled and prompted, “Okay, maybe two splashes.”

Next, you handed him a clean top for the bottle which he took a moment to stir on straight then asked, “Are we done here?” in a very bored tone.

You smiled as you shook your head and clicked your tongue. “Always so impatient, my love. The powder needs to be mixed in. You’ll have to shake the bottle and-“ Ominis started shaking the bottle immediately, wanting to get this over with. Formula sprayed out of the nipple and got on the kitchen floor, Ominis’s hair, and your face. He froze, realizing his mistake.

Your laughter was so intense that you doubled over, clutching the baby to your chest so that you wouldn’t drop her during your fit. Ominis was blushing, but the sound of your laughter made him smile sheepishly.

“I am an idiot,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, yes your are. You have to cover the tip of the nipple.”

“Excuse me?” Ominis sounded almost offended. You laughed harder, not being able to take much more of this.

“That’s what the rubber part of the top of the bottle is called! It’s not like I came up with it!” After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you reached over and placed Ominis’s finger over the tip of the bottle. “Okay, now you can shake it without making it rain indoors.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled shyly.

“I love you,” you answered.

Once the formula was mixed up, it was time to test the temperature. “This part is simple. Hold out your wrist,” you told him. When he did, you guided his hand that was holding the bottle to dab the slightest bit of formula on his inner wrist. “Do you feel that?”

A flash of uncertainty washed over his features. “Yes, but how do I know if it’s right?”

You held out your wrist, lighting bumping it to his so he knew where you were. “Let me feel and I’ll tell you.”

The fingers of his free hand drifted across the palm of your open one, acting as if he wasn’t sure where your wrist was. You had a smug smile knowing it was all for show. You had made your movements very clear. He only wanted to touch your hand, but you weren’t about to call him out on that. The bottle dipped to let a drip fall on your wrist. It was like warm. Not too cold that the powder didn’t mix in properly, and not too hot that it would hurt the baby.

“This is perfect. You want to test it on your wrist again so you can remember this temperature for next time?”

He snorted and insisted there wouldn’t be a next time, but he tested the formula on his wrist once more and looked rather deep in thought as if trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed his cheek and thanked him while taking the bottle. A weight lifted off Ominis’s shoulders when the baby stopped crying in your arms. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Glad that’s over.”

“Well, get used to it because it’ll probably happen every four hours or so.”

That statement did not spark joy for Ominis, but you hadn’t been trying to. It was the truth. This was the reality of helping out Anne right now: a crying newborn.

“Let’s go check on Anne in the bath.” Now that was a statement Ominis didn’t mind. You followed him down the hallway and stood at his side while he knocked on the bathroom door.

“How are you doing, Annie?” He asked in a soft tone.

“Just fine, Min! I’ll be getting out soon. How’s the baby?”

“Ominis made her a bottle!” You cut in proudly.

Anne paused a moment then asked, “‘S it poisoned?”

Ominis rolled his eyes while you responded, “No! I watched him like a hawk. I promise! He did great!”

Anne’s laughter echoed in the bathroom. “Well, then thank you, Ominis!”

In the living room, you nestled in on the couch, using the armrest to support your elbow. Holding the baby in the kitchen that whole time had made you ache. She wasn’t heavy either, maybe six pounds at the most. You couldn’t fathom how Sebastian held his youngest all day. That baby was huge!

“Anything I can get you?” Ominis was hovering over you from behind the couch. His hand was resting on the back of it and his fingers were reaching up to brush your shoulder. It was clear he wanted to touch you, but you were holding a baby and that terrified him.

“Maybe turn on a bit of music? There’s a very fancy-looking phonograph sitting in the far corner on your left. It’s begging to be played.”

Your wish seemed to be his command. Ominis brought out his wand and used his sensing charm before pointing it precisely at the phonograph. The needle reset itself on the record and began to play a beautiful sonata. It started out with a feathery light piano that was quickly joined by a set of strings. You weren’t well versed enough in muggle music to know if it was a violin or cello, but its tender tones took the lead of the song while the piano supported the beat and background. There was just a hint of a wind instrument harmonizing with the main melody of the strings. It wasn’t prominent enough to tell if it was a flute, or perhaps a panpipe…

“Come sit by me,” you requested dreamily.

With the music and the airy sound of your voice, Ominis was lost in the moment. He kissed the top of your head then walked around the front of the couch to be next to you. The string instrument started to swell. His hand rested on your knee as he sat down and immediately inched higher and higher until his forearm bumped your elbow and he briefly wondered why your elbow was sticking out like that.

Reality came hurtling back like a bludger. His hand jolted off you as if your skin burned him. He had forgotten about the baby being fed in your arms.

Ominis hoped you hadn’t even noticed his slip up, that you were too lost in feeding the child. With the way you were talking to it, Ominis felt as though he was in the clear. You were commenting on how the baby’s hand was curling around your ring finger. It seemed to like the smooth texture of your wedding band.

“You trying to steal my ring, little one? Four days old and your mommy has already trained you to be her little niffler? Well, I’m very sorry. You can’t have my wedding ring. I love it too much. You can have your own if you choose to get married one day.”

“Anna and Sebastian are probably competing to see who can have the most mischievous child,” Ominis said mostly to himself since he assumed you were lost in your own little world.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” you joked in return. “And you can put your hand on my thigh if you would like. It is not going to offend the baby.”

Sometimes he hated how in tune you were with him. Ominis put a hand back just below your knee and squeezed to show his annoyance with you, a move he often did to fluster you and keep your teasing mouth quiet.

The move was not working out in his favor while you were holding the baby, however. You gossiped to her, “Oh, Uncle Ominis is mad at me for some reason. I’m in such big trouble. He’s got the grumpy pout. I think he’s feeling a bit bashful that I called him out, what do you think?”

A loud thud sounded from the bathroom. Ominis was standing in a flash. You dropped the bottle beside you on the couch to grab him by the shirt, insisting, “You take the baby! I’ll go get her!”

A look of annoyance washed over Ominis's face and he defied your request, “Are you insane? Just let me-“

“She’s going to want it to be me, not you.”

For the first time since your school days, he bitterly reminded you, “I’m blind! It’s not like I’ll see anything!”

You were standing now, matching his volume. “She’ll just want a woman there that understands-“

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have! She’s a sister to me, I understand her perfectly! She-“

“She’s still bleeding,” you whispered through your teeth, “You know, down there. That’s why she’s been on bed rest. They had to give her muggle stitches.”

Ominis paled and swallowed quickly. He had assumed Anne was hurting from the curse. The last thing on his mind was average birthing complications. “Oh.”

“Sit down on the couch and put your elbow on the armrest,” you insisted in a very angry tone that you only ever used on Sebastian when he was stepping out of line, which was very, very rare these days. Hearing you so angry sent a shiver down Ominis’s spine. He sat, but panic was bubbling to his surface when he realized why you told him to put his elbow on the armrest.

“My love, please, I’m sorry, I can’t- Don’t make me-“

“It’s a newborn, Ominis! She isn’t going to remember this moment! You can’t possibly do anything wrong. Just feed her the rest of the bottle!” Your screaming made Ominis snap his mouth shut.

You leaned down and put the baby, who was now crying from her bottle being ripped from her and all the commotion, into his arms with a gentleness that shocked Ominis. How you went from screaming at him to carefully making sure the baby’s head was supported on his arm just right, he would never know. The bottle was picked up from where it had rolled to the other side of the couch and put firmly in Ominis’s hand with a bit more fire to your placement this time around.

“Feed her. She can’t cry if there is a bottle in her mouth. Relax your shoulders. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

Then your footsteps were fading. Ominis couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking. The baby was still crying, and although the only other sound in the house was the soft piano and strings coming from the phonograph, Ominis was overwhelmed to the point of shock. The baby weighed in his arms, but not nearly as much as he expected it to. He had held Sebastian’s firstborn twice: once when it was a month old and then one other time when it had just started crawling. Sebastian’s baby was never as feather-light as the dainty little thing crying in his arms now. It didn’t even stretch across Ominis’s chest. Tiny little feet were kicking his right arm that had been white-knuckling the bottle. They were covered in fuzzy knit socks that felt soft and plush against his arm with each weak kick.

The baby seemed to kick some sense into Ominis because he realized it would stop crying if he would just hurry up and give it the bottle. At first, he tried placing it in the baby’s flailing hands, but it wouldn’t take it from him. Was holding a bottle not something babies could do for themselves? He was pretty sure Sebastian was able to hand his youngest a bottle and walk away. Why didn’t this one know what to do?!

Ominis was ready to give up, but he didn’t know how to move the baby properly or where to put it even if he had the nerve. The couch? Would it roll off? The floor? Surely that wasn’t appropriate.

“Fine! Fine,” Ominis grumbled. He set the bottle between his legs and then hesitantly touched the baby's chest and glided up to feel where its mouth was. The thing was so tiny, and even though Ominis was holding it, he still expected it to take longer to find its mouth. But before he could pull away, the baby sucked his pointer finger in and bit down. It might have not had any teeth, but its gums were still brutal!

“Ow!” Ominis hissed and yanked his finger away from the little gremlin. He shook his hand with a dramatic flair to lessen the hurt. The baby went right back to crying. “That was uncalled for.��

Finally, Ominis was able to get the bottle in the baby’s mouth. There was an annoying squeak from it sucking on the rubber, but other than that the living room had turned back to its peaceful state. The record on the phonograph was playing a more upbeat tune. All was well.

Meanwhile, you had sprinted into the bathroom panicked and breathing heavily. Anne was lying on her back near the sink, about a meter from the tub.

“Anne!” You gasped and hurried over to her.

“Oh, hey,” Anne laughed lightly, not acting injured in the slightest. “How was your domestic disagreement? I have never heard you two argue like that. It was quite entertaining.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Mostly just embarrassed. I slipped while I was brushing my teeth. Wasn’t even walking or anything, just tumbled over for no reason. Held onto the sink though, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“You need help up?”

“Yeah. My hip is pretty sore, as if it wasn’t bad enough down there already,” Anne always kept a light tone to not worry others. You understood the sentiment. She didn’t want to be treated like a child or hovered over. Sebastian used to do that to her constantly, he had gotten a lot calmer over the years, but Anne hadn’t learned to get rid of her coping mechanisms yet.

“Let me dry the floor then I’ll help you up. Looks like a hurricane happened in here. Were you playing with the bath bubbles?” You joked to put her at ease.

She sighed gratefully for your calm nature. “Maybe. It had been a while since I’ve had a bubble bath. Might have got a bit carried away.”

You dramatically dragged a towel along the floor at the edge of the tub and asked, “A bit?”

It took some patience, but you managed to get Anne to her bed. There was still only the fitted sheet in place, so you added the bedding around her and made a point to tuck her in so tight that she couldn’t even wiggle. She shoved your hands away, laughing at your antics. The two of you chatted for a bit about your new plant shop and whether or not you missed working at the Ministry.

In the living room, the light squeaking of the bottle stopped. Ominis frowned in confusion. He could feel that there was still a bit of liquid sloshing around in the glass. Would the baby start crying again? Why had it stopped eating? Fearing the worst, he set the bottle down on the couch beside him and then leaned his ear in close to make sure the baby was still breathing. He placed his hand over its chest to feel the rise and fall. The tip of his middle finger touched its chin and the bottom of his hand was over its stomach. How could something be so small?

The baby’s hands latched onto his, one grabbing his thumb and the other his pinky, holding Ominis against its chest. Ominis blushed at the contact. The hands were soft and oh, so tiny. It could hardly clasp his thumb properly. Its breathing started to slow. The record on the phonograph came to an end, leaving a soft scratching sound to fill the room.

“Alright then,” his voice was but a whisper so that he wouldn’t disrupt the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Having his hand cradled like that made his heart clench tightly and painfully. The baby’s little cotton clothes were slightly wet around its neck from the formula, but other than that, Ominis didn’t mind that his hand was trapped.

His own breathing started to slow for the first time since arriving at Anne’s place.

A few moments later, you had been sent by Anne to collect her child. She wanted to snuggle with the baby while they both had a nap. The fiasco in the bathroom had worn her out.

The last thing you expected to see was a soft smile on Ominis’s lips while he seemed to be resting. The baby was pulled in close to his chest and was clutching into Ominis’s hand. They both looked fast asleep. The sight filled you with warmth. Your eyes softened, and you nearly wanted to shed a tear. Instead of disrupting them right away, you turned off the phonograph that had been playing nothing and washed the unfinished bottle in the kitchen sink.

When it came time to finally collect the baby from Ominis, you felt slightly guilty for dragging it out for so long. He just looked so precious holding a child. It was doing things to you, making you yearn for things you had sworn off thinking about.

With the utmost care, you reached to scoop the baby out of Ominis’s arms. His left arm tightened around the child, drawing her closer to his chest.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

That was…odd. Was he talking in his sleep? You couldn’t recall Ominis ever doing such a thing.

“It’s just me, love. I’ve come to relieve you from your babysitting duties. Sorry it took me so long.”

You tried going in for the exchange again, but Ominis insisted, “Just another moment, please. Just one moment.” His voice was breaking. It was clear now he hadn’t been sleeping at all to begin with because a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. It had been quite some time since you had seen Ominis in such a fragile state. When he would open up about his family and his childhood, sometimes he would get quiet like this. In those times, he had held onto you like you were driftwood in an ocean of terror he was drowning in. The way he was cradling the baby so close to his chest now meant he was anchoring to her at this moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to take her from him, even if the baby’s young mother was wanting to see her.

The only thing you could do was sit beside him on the couch. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hand rubbed in soft patterns across his arm. A few moments later, you had to tell him, “Anne sent me to collect the baby.”

Ominis nodded and softly said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer then. You can- you can take her now.”

There was a tense static in the room. The last thing you wanted to do was end this moment. Even with Sebastian’s for at born, Ominis had never asked to hold them, let alone hold them longer the few times he had been forced to.

“Why don’t you just carry her to the bedroom for me, hm?”

That was not what Ominis wanted to hear. His eyes widened with fear. “I can’t I- I don’t know how to.”

“It’ll be alright,” you were already adjusting his left arm so that he was providing better support underneath her as you spoke, “Just support her bum here. You can use your other arm too if you’re unsure. Just bring that one to cover here and- There. Now you’ve got a very good hold on her. After you get up from the couch just put it right back there where I showed you. I’ll lead you to the bedroom. Come along, now.”

Before he had time to come up with an excuse, you were dragging him up from the couch and guiding him to Anne’s room. Usually, he hated being guided places unless the situation was dire or he was in a big crowd. Sometimes people at work would try and guide from around the building. He took a bit of offense to it. If he ever needed a guide, he could just use his wand!

But now he was holding this tiny little thing in his arms, and it was alive and depending on him not to trip or bump into something. Without fighting it, Ominis let you hold his elbow and guide him across Anne’s house to the master bedroom. You had him sit in an armchair in the corner of the room as you joked with Anne, “You said, ‘Bring the baby’, and I wasn’t sure which one so naturally… I brought both.”

“You two look good like that. With her,” Anne commented as you put your hand on Ominis’s shoulder.

You were thankful Ominis couldn’t see your flush or the warning look you gave Anne. Around Ominis, you tried your hardest to avoid the topic of starting a family of your own. Your mother mentioned it every time the two of you visited her. She wanted grandkids. Usually, Anne and Sebastian were safe to converse with because they knew Ominis as well as you did. A comment like that almost felt out of character for Anne, especially since she was so protective of Ominis.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ominis replied smoothly.

“Have you burped her yet?”

“Have I what?”

You laughed and patted Ominis on the shoulder. “That can get messy. Why don’t we let Anne do that, hm?”

“I can do it,” he offered quickly. “Just tell me how, and I can do it.”

You draped a towel over his shoulder and directed him to lay the baby against it. It didn’t take long to burp her. Ominis winced at the wet gurgling by his ear and the pungent, sour smell of the formula coming back tenfold. You giggled at his reaction and seemed to be cleaning up the baby’s face so that Ominis could go back to snuggling her.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. I’d hoped you would. After all, she’s named after you.”

A beat of silence dragged by before Ominis was able to ask, “What?”

“My little Minnie. Cute, don’t you think?” Anne smiled softly. “You were always there for me when Sebastian and I had our falling out. I appreciate you and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Minnie is such a sweet name,” you commented once you realized Ominis was too stunned to respond. “Perfect for this sweet little girl.”

A couple of hours went by while you and Anne chatted. Ominis didn’t move from the armchair with Minnie and never once complained about his arm going numb from holding her.

Went you stood up so go start something for dinner, an Apparation crack sounded from outside. All three of you were alert and tense, wondering who it could be. You brought out your wand and headed to the front door, but it burst open before you had the chance to get there.

“Anne?!” The desperate cry of her husband called through the house. His heavy footsteps sprinted for the bedroom. Blood and scrapes littered his face and his hair and clothes were in disarray and even looked a bit singed. “Are you alright?” He raced to embrace her.

“You’ll have to give her up now, my love,” you whispered in Ominis’s ear while Anne and her husband reunited.

With a heavy sigh, Ominis stood from the armchair and approached the side of the bed Anne’s husband was standing on. He tearfully took Minnie from Ominis then looked at Anne in disbelief.

“She looks just like you.”

Sebastian’s wife was standing in the entryway, looking just as disheveled as Anne’s husband. While you and Ominis left the bedroom to give the new family some privacy, Sebastian’s wife explained, “There was a dragon attack that led to a cave-in. He was trapped for nearly a week.”

“Lucky you were able to find him. You’re amazing, honestly. Are you okay? Do you need anything? The both of you look like you got in a fistfight with the dragon!” You told her.

“Nearly did! Its tail swung at me at one point. It’s been an eventful day. All that’s on my mind is getting home to the kids and Sebastian.”

“We’ll be heading home as well, I think. Stay safe.”

With her gone, you cleaned up a few things around Anne’s house. Ominis tagged along on your cleaning spree, but he was nearly silent while doing so. You worried today might have been too much for him, but you would decide you would wait to check on him until after getting him to the comfort of your own home.

“You can floo first, Ominis! I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to throw this blanket in the laundry bin.”

He was gone in a smokey, green flash. As promised, you traveled just a moment later. You hardly had a second to focus on the blur of your living room before a pair of hands were haphazardly dragging you forward until a rather demanding set of lips landed over yours. In his defense, Ominis had warned you earlier that day that he would be taking his stress out on you.

“What a lovely welcome home,” you comment when he pulls away, thinking it would end there.

His voice was a bit raspy in your ear, “Tell me what you’ve been wanting, and I’ll give it to you.” And although the sound of his voice was arousing, you could tell he wasn’t talking about anything sexual. There was a pointed annoyance in his tone. The unspoken dream you’ve been trying to keep to yourself secret all these years seemed to be weighing down on the both of you.

“Ominis, I don’t expect that of you. Is this because of what Anne said about us looking good with a baby? She was only teasing, Ominis. You know I would never ask that if you.”

Lips started to trail down your neck, tasting you. Between kisses, Ominis was whispering, “So good to me. Trying to hide her desires. It’s okay. I want it too.”

“What do you mean?” You managed out between gasps. His hands were exploring every inch of your body as if he didn’t already have you memorized. It took all of your willpower to restrain yourself and pull away from him because he seemed as though he was going to continue on without clarifying if you weren’t going to make him.

He groaned as if he was the one losing out on pleasure by you pulling away. “Want it too. Wanna give you a baby,” he whined softly. The words shocked you enough that your hold weakened. Ominis took the opportunity to lean back in, but you put your hands on his shoulders to hold him at bay.

“I think you caught an illness while at Anne’s,” you say in a worried tone. The back of your fingers pressed to his forehead. “Yup, just as I suspected. You have a bad case of baby fever. I think a good night's rest will be just the cure.”

Rolling his eyes at your antics, Ominis insisted, “I’ve thought about this before, and I know you want one. I don’t need sight to know how you feel about Sebastian’s kids. You are always coming up with excuses to be with them longer. It’s okay. I’m not going to be angry if you admit it. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I’m happy with you. I don’t need anything more. I would never ask for anything more.”

Ominis rested his forehead against yours. “I know you would never dare to ask. That’s why I’m offering.”

“And you’ll regret offering such things in the morning,” you reminded him.

“No, I won’t.”

“I know holding Minnie was overwhelming for you, but don’t let those new emotions cloud your judgment. You’ve never wanted kids before this. Just think for a moment and-“

“I have thought about it, many times. Maybe I’ve been apprehensive to the idea, but that was before. I thought it wasn’t possible for me to connect with children, that I wouldn’t be able to care for them the way a parent should. I thought I’d be cold and distant like my parents, so I didn’t want to bring a child into this world for them to feel alone and unwanted. But now, with her, I was able to care, to- to…”

“To love?” you offered

“Please say you believe me,” he sounded so lost and broken.

Your hands cupped his cheeks as you wiped away his tears of frustration. “I believe you. I never doubted that you wouldn’t be able to love our child if we had one. I just assumed you didn’t dare to let yourself try because of your parents. I love you, Ominis. Of course I want to have your children. I want them to be just as stubborn, but just as caring as you. I want them to have your sarcastic wit but also your devoted loyalty. It’s something I’ve thought about endlessly, so don’t think I’m turning you down when I ask for you to think on it just a while longer. Let the emotions from today come back down. I’ll make us dinner, we’ll go to bed. Then, whenever you are ready to talk about this, we will.”

Ominis managed to look disappointed but grateful at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”

And think on it he did, or simmer was a closer description. While you were in the kitchen, he pretended to read with his wand. There was a moment of uncertainty when he thought about how holding Minnie had made him feel. Would he be able to connect like that with his own child? But then again, how could he not? His own child would be half you, and he loved every part of you, even the side of you that thought you knew what was best for him by making him sit with his thoughts.

After a while, you brought him a cup of tea and kissed his temple. Ominis mumbled a thank you and continued to pretend to read. He could tell by the way you lingered in the doorway as you left the living room that you had used the tea as an excuse to check in on him. Instead of clueing you into his thoughts, he remained aloof and sipped his tea without showing any emotion positive or negative. The last thing he wanted was to hear you ramble about how he wasn’t in the right headspace to know what he truly wanted.

What he wanted was to be buried deep in you as he came. He wanted to, for once, not ruin his adrenaline rush by pulling out at the last second. He wanted you to have his child. He wanted a family with you, and he didn’t want to waste another second before starting it. This was something he should have done years ago.

“Dinner is ready,” you announced. There was a tremor in your voice as though you were nervous to speak to him. You spent the last thirty minutes hiding in the kitchen and wondering if he was cross with you since he hardly spoke at all when you brought him tea.

“It smells lovely in here.” Ominis played along with you, pretending not to notice your slip-up.

“Thank you. What were you reading?”

“A book that Sebastian’s wife recommended about keeping dragons.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“It is.”

And that was all you got out of him. Ominis finished his food before you then disappeared to the kitchen to do the dishes while you sat in silence at the dining table. The wine wasn’t strong enough to keep your mind from worrying. How long would things be like this? Usually, Ominis was easy to get through to, so your arguments never lasted long. Would this remain an unspoken thing in your marriage for years to come? Forever?

You tiptoed into the kitchen with your empty plate. Ominis had done most of the dishes except for a single pan and the plate and fork in your hands. Even though you were trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Ominis held his open hand out in your direction and said, “Your plate.”

Reluctantly, you handed him the dirty dish. “Thank you for cleaning.”

“You cooked, so I cleaned. No reason to thank me. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right,” you whispered quietly.

Ominis raised his brow. “What? No comeback? No telling me how wrong I am for not accepting your gratitude? No making me think about it before I decide I want to do the dishes?”

“So you are mad at me!” You said it like it was an accusation. “I knew it. You’re being ridiculous! I’m only asking you to think on this before you decide!”

“You think I haven’t thought about it? Nearly ten years of marriage and you don’t think I fantasize about what it would feel like to hold you while my child is growing inside you?” He dried his hands on a dishrag and then leaned against the counter, looking exasperated. His volume hadn’t matched yours yet. He was holding back.

“You don’t have to do this just because it’s something I want!”

“Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t want it too!” His yell seemed to echo in the tiny kitchen.

After a second of trying to remind yourself how to breathe, you felt horrible for letting it escalate so far. Hearing Ominis was scared just made you want to comfort him. You spoke softly, “Ominis-“

“No, don’t do that. Don’t pity me and try to comfort me. Don’t use that as an excuse for us not to do this. Either you want us to have a child, or you don’t. I need you to be fully in on this as well. I’ll need you to show me how to make a bottle a few more times, how to change a diaper, and how to hold them properly. I need you to be patient with me, but I don’t want you to pity me. Is that understood?”

“I understand.” His words started to sink in. He seemed satisfied with your agreeability and turned back to the sink to finish the last two dishes. When the water cut off, you were still frozen in the center of your kitchen and trying to figure out if this was all real or a fever dream.

Ominis was humming a melody that had been playing earlier on Anne’s phonograph as he put away the pan he cleaned last. When he passed you by, a hand reached out to touch you. It dragged across your stomach to your hip and squeezed.

“If you are feeling against the idea any sort of way, now might be your last chance to speak up,” he warned, “I won’t be able to hold back tonight with this on my mind.”

“Don’t hold back-“ Was all he needed to hear before you were backed up against the kitchen counter with his lips how and heavy on yours. His approach was usually far more gentle. The two of you could kiss for hours before he’d even cop a feel. Now his hands were unbuttoning your clothes at your waistline and tugging the fabric down with haste.

This is what you’ve been dreaming of. Only a handful of times had Ominis ever devoured you in such a way. Things were more heated when the two of you were younger, exploring each other, and having uncontrollable urges. Since marriage, Ominis had calmed in that sense. You lived together, so he had the ability to take his time and appreciate every inch of you. It was always about bringing you pleasure as many times as the night would allow. Tonight was a stark contrast to those gentle touches.

Before you knew it, he had your panties around your ankles and was telling you to sit on the counter that he had just cleaned. You hopped up as told, but your position still didn’t have his approval. His fingers hooked under your knees and yanked so that your ass slid across the counter until it was nearly hanging off the edge. He smirked at the feeling of your heated core bumping into his dress pants.

“Right there. Stay right there on the edge for me.” And then he was sinking to his knees. His hands held your inner thighs to keep you from trying to close them, not that you would have.

His mouth was everywhere except the one place you wanted it so desperately. Your clit ached for attention. It seemed like Ominis would be taking his sweet time with you after all. This was usually welcomed attention, but tonight, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You didn’t even need to finish yourself as long as he spilled inside of you.

But even though your mind didn’t need an orgasm, that didn’t mean your body wasn’t craving it. Your hips bucked slightly when his nose nearly brushed against your clit. His hands held you down on the counter as he chuckled. The vibration of his laugh made you quiver.

“Don’t fall off the counter, now. Twisting your ankle won’t get you out of taking my cock. I’d just lay you on the bed and elevate your foot with pillows before filling you up.”

“Ominis,” your voice came out like you were scolding him. He’s spoken dirty before, but never quite like that.

“Just today you admitted in this very kitchen that you push my buttons on purpose to get me to snap and bite you, yet I’m the one being told off. And for what? Making sure my wife’s hypothetical, hurt ankle would be taken care of before I give her the child she so desperately wants?”

“I- oh-,” You lost your train of thought as his lips brushed against your clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking. The feeling was too much after waiting for so long. You squirmed again, this time to get away. The feeling in the pit of your stomach always felt better releasing when things had been slow and steady. Now, you could feel the tension building alarmingly fast.

Ominis took your hips trying to move as a sign of your eagerness. His tongue lapped up your wetness that had started to seep out. Then, it dipped inside of you and his nose rubbed against your clit. Your hands were gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself from flying off.

Now you were saying his name like a prayer. Your breathy pleas were quite the opposite from how you had just scolded him a few moments ago. Hearing you pant and mumble his name made him smirk. You could feel the corner of his mouth rise slightly against you. That action was enough to send you over the edge, almost literally if Ominis hadn’t been holding you in place on the counter. He kept his tongue in place to feel you pulse around it, though he was careful not to overstimulate you and ruin your high. Only when the pulsations slowed to nearly an end did he pull back and stand up.

“Such a good girl for me. Coming on my tongue and sounding so sweet.” He kissed you with the taste of your juices still on his tongue. You hadn’t even dared to let go of the counter while Ominis got to work unbuttoning his own pants. “Was gonna wait to have you in the bedroom, but I don’t think I can.” And then, he was lined up at your entrance and pushing in.

His movements were slow as he took you in an all consuming kiss to distract you from the stretch. Normally, you could handle whatever Ominis threw at you. This time, you were sitting nearly upright because of how close Ominis held your for the kiss. The position made it hard to take him fully, at least in an enjoyable way. You tried leaning back, and while that did help things start to feel pleasurable, your hand had landed in a stick of butter. The plate clanked against the counter. You immediately cursed under your breath.

Ominis, having heard the plate, had the audacity to laugh at your demise. He pulled out and scolded you, “You aren’t making a mess of my clean kitchen, are you?”

“It seems like you’ll have to wait until we get to the bedroom after all, and now I’ve got to wash my hand as well!”

His hands didn’t leave you the entire time you stood at the sink to try and scrub away the slimy mess on your hand. Even while walking down the hallway his hands were at work taking off your shirt and throwing it who knows where. Needless to say, you were both naked by the time you made it to the bedroom.

Vibrations ran down your neck from his voice mumbling while his lips were against your skin. “Lay on the bed.”

You had expected his hands to be all over you again the moment your back landed on the mattress. Instead, Ominis felt around for the pillows at the head of the bed. He tapped your hip. “Lift up.”

It was hard to deny his odd request because of how deeply you loved when he got a bit bossy like this. You lifted your bum so that he could slide a few pillows under you. The gesture seemed sweet, but entirely unnecessary. You’d been married for nearly nine years now, it wasn’t like you were delicate in the bedroom.

“You’re very sweet, my love, but I don’t need this to be comfortable. You won’t break me.”

Ominis stilled. His hand rested on your thigh. It looked as though he was debating something. “It’s not… for your comfort.”

“Then why are you- oh.” You swallowed your words when it set in. Your hips were high in the air like this. Gravity would make the mess Ominis was about to make stay inside you instead of seeping out.

“But are you comfortable like this?” Ominis ran his hand from your hip to your breast. His hand squeezing around you was faint and soft, more akin to a tender caress instead of anything overtly sexual.

“Yes,” you earnestly answered.

“You might have to stay like this for quite some time,” Ominis leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “Can you handle that?”

You nodded, then felt stupid before replying verbally, “I’m comfortable like this. I can stay as long as you think it’s necessary for it to… set in.”

His hand moved from your breast to lay over your heartbeat for a moment. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. “Your heart is racing.”

“I might be a bit excited.”

“Oh yeah?” Both his hands smoothed down your body until they rested on your hips. He got on his knees between your legs. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” His thumb messily rubbed over your clit then dipped down between your folds to feel the sticky arousal that had been leaking out of you since the kitchen. There wasn’t much of a rhythm to his movements because he was just wetting his hand so that he could lubricate himself, but still, his hand touching you there in any capacity made your breathing pick up.

You were mumbling his name all desperate and breathy. Ominis chuckled at how needy you sounded. Giving you what you were begging for, he lined himself up, which caused you to whimper even more because his tip dragged across your clit a few times before he found your entrance. As he started to sink in, you sighed in relief. This angle was much better than sitting on the counter. With surprising ease, he nearly bottomed out. There was just a pinch of tightness that made him still for a moment.

His lips were leaving tender kisses across your chest and neck while he let you adjust to the feeling. You were mumbling into his neck for him to move, to take you. Your neediness made him want to give in to those desires, but Ominis wanted to memorize everything about this moment. The smell of sweat and sex in the air was absolutely vile, but incredibly mouthwatering all the same. He could go deeper than he ever had before at this angle, but that area felt tight around his tip. Ominis pulled out slightly and thrust back in slowly, being careful not to go too far and hurt you.

“More,” you were begging, nearly crying in the crook of his shoulder.

Not being able to deny you a second longer, Ominis started to thrust his hips. It wasn’t shallow, but he still wouldn’t let himself go further than the two of you were used to. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails lightly skimmed across his shoulders. He shivered and his hips stuttered unevenly, accidentally driving deeper into you. Immediately, Ominis pulled back and whispered an apology in your ear, but you held tighter onto him.

“Again, do it again.”

A tentative hand brushed the hair off your forehead so Ominis could kiss it. He pushed in deeper, but deliberately slow so he could listen for any signs of discomfort. His thumb found your clit again, hoping to give you a bit of pleasure to combat the fullness. The second his thumb grazed over you, your walls convulsed around his cock and your body shook erratically.

Ominis felt his own waves of pleasure building. On instinct, he tried to pull out to finish on your stomach. Your thighs wrapped around his waist to hold him in place.

“Please, come inside me. I want to make you a daddy.”

Your words made the tips of his ears go red. But now that he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he remembered the whole point of the evening, why he had made you rest your hips on a pile of pillows, and why he was able to reach this deep inside you in the first place.

“Stop me if it hurts,” was all the warning Ominis could give before his hips started to rut against you, hitting as deep as his length would allow with every feverish thrust. His pelvis was hitting your clit each time, Turning you right back into a moaning mess beneath him.

“There, right there.”

His breath was hot and heavy on your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my seed, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you just like this twice a day with your hips all high and willing to take me until we find out it worked. And then, I’m going to keep coming in you every night after to celebrate. I’ll fill you up so good, that we won’t know if it’s my come or my child growing in you that’s making you bigger.”

Talking dirty wasn’t new for Ominis, but it was rarely obscene and never, ever like this. That with how deep and fast he was fucking you made you speechless, breathless, thoughtless. You couldn’t even see straight, so you just held onto him for dear life and panted, but no breath was deep enough to fill your lungs or call you down. The tension in your entire body builds to the point that your leg was cramping. You wrapped it around Omni’s leg just to ease the pressure, but Ominis saw that as you wanting him to go harder.

So he did. His hips snapped into you hysterically. You cried out in ecstasy as another orgasm hit you like a train.

His hips faltered and he groaned as he came while your walls relentlessly milked his cock. You couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. Feeling his warm spurts of come paint your walls and add pressure made your intense waves of pleasure drag out. Ominis was on his elbows and panting, his lips right above yours. You already couldn’t breathe, but you pulled him down for a kiss regardless.

“I love you,” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss. “Was that okay? Are you hurting? Should I get you a-“

Ominis had started to move, but your arms wrapped tighter around him and your walls clenched around his length. “Don’t move yet. Stay. Just stay.”

Seeming to understand and reciprocate your need to be close, Ominis rested on an elbow and then used his other hand to caress your body as if you were made of glass. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”

The two of you laid like that for a while just playing with each other’s hair and whispering sweet nothings. Soon, Ominis started to get hard again inside of you. He slyly shifted his hips, but his excuse of getting more comfortable didn’t work on you.

“Ominis,” you whined in an exhausted tone. How was he ready to go again!?

His kisses on your neck paused while he laughed against your skin. “Well, I did say twice a day until we’re certain, didn’t I?”