#Sebastian has the feathers sure

[bezierballad]

Sebastian vs Claude: Tickle fight

[btsbabe7]

Perfect Storm

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Warnings!: 18+, unprotected sex

Synopsis: While Ominis grapples with his feelings, you embrace your own in full bloom.

Ominis sits in a complete daze, exactly three rows from the front of The History of Magic. In a class where sleep is prioritized over education, he finds himself wide awake and engulfed by his own thoughts.

At a young age, Ominis Gaunt had learned the mastery of concealing his disdain, his happiness, and all other emotions in between that may apprehend him. It was a skill he found himself most proud of, especially as a Slytherin, simply because it kept him safe from the consequences of raw emotions and how others may perceive them. But on this particular afternoon, an hour after your coffee brown feathered owl, Nora had chirped seven times through his windowsill, Ominis felt something arise.

A feeling he had long forgotten had begun to muddle up and settle in the hollowness of his chest as it would after a sip of freshly brewed Butterbeer or morning pumpkin juice on an empty stomach. He’d only felt this way twice in his entire life. Once, when he’d learned he’d been invited to attend Hogwarts and would finally be able to escape the harsh scrutiny and peculiar upbringing of his pureblooded parents. Secondly, when he’d been introduced to Sebastian and Anne Sallow during his first year of attending. However, he would have never guessed that he’d feel this way about you, his now, not-no-new best friend that he can’t seem to stop thinking of. Though, there is one thing Ominis knows for certain, and that is that he must stop his heart from becoming too attached. Otherwise, the feeling would fester and utterly consume him.

When Professor Binn dismissed class, a herd of yawning students stumbled out in the connecting hallway of The Bell Tower in pure delight. As they do, you scan the crowd over, student by student, looking for only one in particular.

Amit Thakkar. Eric Northcott. Lenora Everleigh. Natsai Onai, who stops at your side with a sly smirk.

“Next time you decide to skip Binn’s class, I beg you have Nora deliver a notice beforehand. As much as I appreciate a midday nap, I do cherish adventure even more.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you giggle, though you know Natsai wouldn’t have wanted to join in on the adventure that had pulled you away from class on this particular day.

The high of Sebastian’s presence that typically lingered long after the fact comes to a standstill at the thought of other’s putting the pieces together. Surely word would soon travel of you missing your History of Magic course and the coincidence of your best friend Sebastian missing his Astronomy one simultaneously. That thought alone is what steals your concentration from the leaving students and causes your mind to wander. A few seconds more and a small tap has you jolting as if you’ve seen a ghost for the first time.

“Ominis,” you breathe in relief.

“I could smell you,” he chuckles. “Well, you smell of Sebastian actually.”

“Oh, yeah… I, uh… We bumped into each other on the way to class and decided to ditch.”

Ominis is silent for a moment. He can always detect your hesitation when you lie, but it wasn’t a completely lie. You hope in your heart that he’ll buy it and not question any further, and in your favor, he chooses the latter.

“Nora stopped by before class,” he states. “She only chirped seven times. So you’re early, despite missing class.”

You rope your arm in Ominis’ and lead him downstairs and towards the doors which lead you out the castle.

“On my way over, I figured we could head to Hogsmeade early. We’re both done for the day and we don’t get much time alone without Seb. I tried to convince him to stay in tonight, but he was adamant about spending time with both of his best friends.”

Ominis hums in curiosity. Wondering what you’d bargained with Sebastian to get him to give you and him any time alone at all. Despite his curiosity, his own excitement wins the battle. He hadn’t had a moment alone with you since you’d met him and with Sebastian out of the way, even for a short moment, he’d finally have you to himself.

“Do we have to go to The Three Broomsticks? If we aren’t due there until seven this evening, we can go elsewhere?”

You purse your lips as you both waltz through the doors and into the warm breeze of spring. The air smells of heavy rain. The type of rain that smells of earth and dew and brings the worms from their humble adobes in the soil.

“I suppose we could go wherever we please.”

Ominis smirks, but turns in the opposite direction in order to conceal it from you.

“Perhaps we could go to The Undercroft?”

You glance up towards the sky. Heavy, grey clouds settle in the distance, remnants of a storm while another dares to roll in at a moment’s notice. As much as you love a brilliant storm, you’d love to spend time alone with Ominis more. After all, many storms have hovered in the skies above the grounds of Hogwarts, but time alone with your Slytherin friend weren’t as frequent.

“The Undercroft,” you hum in agreement.

Careful to evading the nosiness of curious students and staff, you and Ominis slip into the concealment of The Undercroft with relieved sighs. You gaze over the darkened room, casting Confringo towards the four hanging lamp posts before continuing inside.

Abandoned furniture, rusting cauldrons, and dusty barrels are stacked high against the surrounding walls, making the room appear much smaller than it feels. The room itself smells of burnt embers, left behind from all the times you and the duo had practiced Confringo here on end. You smile at the memories before meeting Ominis in the center of the room enveloped between four hefty, ornate columns.

A rug sits there now, one you’d managed to buy over Christmas break and bring in from home with the help of an Extension Charm. The others hadn’t seen it yet since you’d just placed it today before meeting Sebastian in the secrecy of his empty dorm.

“Confringo truly warms up the room,” Ominis breathes sarcastically before settling down. His brows rise at the sudden change of surface and he allows his fingertips to mold themselves into the thick fibers of the woolen rug with a gentle breath. “A rug?”

“Don’t you and Seb get tired of sitting on frigid concrete?”

“I’ve known nothing else.”

You smile softly, happy that you’re allowing him to experience something new in his safe place.

With your own need to relax, you kick your shoes off and drop your robe before joining Ominis on the rug. He jolts up at the feeling of your knee pressing against his and tries to imagine your facial features in this moment, calm and soft.

“I wish we could enjoy the storm from here,” you whisper. “I’d love to hear the heaviness of the rain pitter pattering around us. The rumbling of thunder that comes with the rolling clouds.”

Ominis smiles. Taking in your words and imagining them in his head. The coolness of the rain prickling against your flesh and curls. What rolling clouds would look like when the thunder rumbles beneath your feet and lightening streaks through gray clouds. The way your lips curl into a grin and eyes close when you’re in a state of peace and tranquility only a storm can offer. You take your bottom lip in with a smile, laughing to yourself at the thought. It’s as if you and Ominis had shared the imagery telepathically.

“Y/n,” Ominis calls, though he has no words to say. After all, anything that would come out in this moment would come out as a stutter and surely you’d laugh in his face, even as his friend.

But you respond in the softest your voice has ever been around him, a simple yes, and he finds himself swooning. He falls silent, closes his eyes and takes in the smell of burning coals in the nearby lamps. It’s not the smell of wet earth, but it is familiar. As familiar as the fluttering in his stomach as he lies back in hopes to push them away, the butterflies. And much to his dismay, you replicate the action.

The smell of Sebastian has long worn away and your own smell of vanilla and worn book pages returns. The warmth of your body so close to his has him fighting to steady his breathing. He shuffles a bit in an attempt to create space, but ends up slapping his hand into yours instead. You smile at the feeling and allow your palm to clasp around his with a soft exhale.

A few moments of silence pass by and you drop Ominis’ hand to roll onto your side. With one hand propping up the side of your head, your eyes roam over your best friend. His robe is parted and his tie sits tightly around the ring of his crisp, white collar that’s nestled underneath his buttoned vest and open jacket. The hem of his button-up is still neatly tucked inside his belted, checkered grey trousers. His full length, grey socks are pulled to the knee and stuffed inside his short boots. And when your eyes gaze up towards his face, a soft smile sits on his lips as if he’s deep inside a fantasy only he can see.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Ominis’ smile turns into a hoarse cough, almost a choke. You pat him gingerly on the chest until he heaves out one last cough and wipes away the tears.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Y-you didn’t,” he spats out. “I just didn’t know you were observing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the most interesting object in the room.”

His cheeks turn a cherry red and he gazes away nervously.

“I believe you to be more interesting,” he mutters.

You come up to your knees, allowing them to sink into the soft fibers of the rug.

“Prove it.”

You shock yourself and Ominis with that line, but it does the trick of pulling his reddened face back in your direction. Had this been Sebastian and you’d given him the chance, he wouldn’t have bat a lash before making a move, but Ominis has always been your greatest challenge. You know he won’t be the first to make the move even if the stone lied within his court. So, you find yourself climbing into his lap, straddling him as he attempts to find the words to say or expression to convey in response to your boldness.

“It’s alright,” you whisper.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

Ominis’ trembling hands plant themselves against your jawline, thumbing over your soft cheeks, then the circumference of your lips. His mouth parts and your own need to feel him consumes you. You repeat the action of grasping his face and lean in closer until all that’s between you is a slither of air.

“Y/n,” Ominis speaks quickly. The call of your name propels his warmth against your lips. “This will change everything.”

“I know, Omi.”

He hesitates, then allows himself closer in consent. You settle down in his lap completely and draw your hands to the hairs at the nape of his neck, taking in the coarseness before your eyes flutter closed and your lips press gently into his.

Ominis’ body shutters underneath you as if he’s been set ablaze while yours kicks into overdrive. You help him slip off his robe and jacket, then mindlessly pluck the large, grey buttons from the holes of his vest. He shrugs out of it and clasps his arms around you, moaning as you both deepen the kiss and fall back on the rug. His hands travel over your waist, down your hips, then down your thighs on either side of him. He mentally takes in that you chose to wear a dress today, knowing he could use that to his advantage if you chose to go any further.

You pull away breathlessly and in a daze, drinking Ominis’ relieved express in like cool water.

“Do you think we have time?” You ask aloud, not necessarily to him as you reach back to grab your pocket watch from the inner pocket of your own robe. Barely an hour before you’re set to meet Sebastian in Hogsmeade. It’s not nearly enough time, but with the pout on Ominis’ face, you can’t deny yourselves the pleasure. “We’ll be quick…”

Ominis chuckles at the shakiness of your voice before pulling your lips back to his. If he had to face an annoyed Sebastian because you both arrived late, he’d take that over missing this opportunity with you. And in agreement, you and Ominis strip down to your undergarments in no time. Once his hand brushes against your bare flesh, he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls you down against him.

“Have you done this before?”

He shakes his head.

“Have you?”

You fear being honest in a time like this, when you know he’s so vulnerable, but you also know Ominis would be able to read your lies easily. Besides, in a time like this where everything is sacred, lying seems cruel.

“Only once,” you reply shakily.

Ominis’ expression fades into something unreadable, then a smirk appears.

“Perhaps you can show me how it’s done then?”

You scoff nervously. It wasn’t the response you were expecting. In fact, you were thinking he’d nudge you off of himself and start to redress. That you’d end up wallowing in shame all night over Butterbeers at the embarrassment.

You waste no time grinding against him, getting a feel for his size as soft pleas slip from his lips. Your own lips gasp at the feeling of him growing hard beneath your warmth. A bit surprised by his size, you lift up just enough to work the hardened member from his briefs. With a purr, you rub down the length and move your own garments to the side. You grasp one of Ominis hands and position it between your legs, and you swear his eyes widen like the moon at the sensation.

“Touch me here for now,” you croon, already aching in anticipation of the pleasure you know he won’t deny you.

Ominis rubs down your length, taking in the number of folds it takes to get to the source of your warmth. He clamps his hand over the mound, then slips a single finger into your depths, which earns a moan from your throat. He seems to like it, the prize that comes from knowing he’s touching you correctly.

“Just like that, Omi,” you mewl seconds before he pulls his finger in and out of your arousal. You work your own hand over his full length with a coating of your own saliva. “Can’t wait to feel you inside my wet pussy.”

He stops short as if his brain hadn’t processed it beforehand. He could feel you even more, more than his finger. Skin to skin, body to body. Luckily, you can’t deny yourself the pleasure anymore, and knowing that time is ticking by, you climb back into his lap and take him back into your grasp before lining your entrance up with the tip of his erection. It only takes the feeling of the tip poking inside to pull a heavy groan from Ominis’ lips. It makes you smile, the sight of him already squirming as you slip down the rest of his length with a loud whimper.

“Fuck, Omi, your cock feels amazing.”

“Y/n,” he whines and grips your waist the moment you start gliding back and forth with the length of his cock stuffed inside. It almost slips out, then you skillfully retract it back in. He squirms every time it comes close to falling out, a pinch of panic at the idea of losing this feeling.

His eyes shut and his blunt nails burrow into your flesh as you find a steady pace and your palms rest against his sweaty chest. You knew Ominis would feel astronomical inside of you, but he never knew he’d quickly become addicted to the feeling of himself being buried deep inside your depths.

You toss your head back and move Ominis’ hands up to your chest. He massages your breasts softly and unskillfully, scared of squeezing too hard in fear of hurting you.

“Lick them? Please?” You squeak and falter towards him. “Suck them.”

He feels for one of your protruding nipples and laps his warm tongue over the left, which causes the right to ache painfully in neglect. You massage into it yourself while trying to keep your pace. He pulls the left between his teeth and sucks on it hard, causing you to squeal before he moves to the right. You ride him faster, too overtaken by your own pleasure to notice him trembling beneath you. His own pants intertwine with yours and his hands find your hips again, this time guiding you up and down his twitching length.

“Y/n, I think I—“ Ominis’ words get caught in a groan so deep, your eyes flutter open.

“Oh, Omi… I’m going t— Nngh!”

He thrusts his hips upwards and your words fade into a sharp scream that leaves you shaking and trembling against him. Your eyes roll back and he pulls out of you with tremors of his own. You feel a warm liquid spurting against your ass and you sigh in relief before collapsing on top of him. His chest heaves violently against yours. His, then yours until they fall back into a rhythmic pattern of normalcy.

Silence falls over the room once again and you trace lines down Ominis’ abdomen mindlessly. Yet, in his mind, he’s attempting to come to terms with the act you two just committed. He’s sure this will change absolutely everything.

Will he start bantering with Sebastian when he mindlessly flirts with you?

Will he slip up and curse one of the other students who brag about how hot the hero of Hogwarts is?

He would now know just how hot you can get after finally having you this way. Would that knowledge alone push him over the edge?

On the outside, he remains calm, but you sense that his mind is elsewhere. You trail a fingertip from the center of his forehead and down the bridge of his nose before leaning over him.

“What’s plaguing your mind, Ominis?”

He’s hesitant, but thinks better of. If he’s had you like his, in his most vulnerable state of nudity, then surely he can admit his feelings.

“I’m worried about the others… Sebastian…”

“What about them?”

“What they’ll think or say. About the lewd comments I overhear in class. And if we continue to do this, they’ll begin to notice we’re becoming more than friends.”

You ponder it over for a moment, but surely being perceived as more than friends wouldn’t be so preposterous.

“There are worst things out there, Ominis Gaunt, than our peers perceiving us as more than friends. Perhaps you wouldn’t be too worried if instead of being friends, w—”

“Instead of being friends?” Ominis sputters in confusion and panic.

You pat his chest gingerly.

“Yes, Omi. Instead of being friends, you consider being my boyfriend instead? And when they inquire, we’ll simply tell them we’re courting each other.”

His face turns as pale as Professor Binn, a true ghost, and he sits straight up as if to prevent a choking fit again.

“You want to court me? You truly fancy me?”

“Of course. I thought that much was evident. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have spent the entire afternoon attempting to get Sebastian’s blessing of giving us time alone. And I surely wouldn’t be plastered against your body fully naked,” you snort.

Color fades back into his cheeks, but he remains flustered. That’s the reason you smelled of Sebastian, you’d been in his dorm all afternoon, and knowing Sebastian, convincing him would’ve taken a while. And now it made perfect sense that he’d granted you the time alone and hadn’t once wondered into The Undercroft with all the time that’s passed. It’s as if everything has finally clicked in his mind.

Ominis recognizes something else too, the feeling that had settled in his chest earlier in the day. It’s the very feeling he felt once he was granted freedom from the abuse of his parents, the feeling he felt when he’d met Sebastian and Anne, the feeling you grant him now and always have, is hope. A hope for something new and better in the midst of his own chaotic storms. And with that realization, Ominis caresses your cheek and presses his lips ever so slightly into yours.

And after a few deep kisses, he pulls back, leaving a sliver between you two to flash a brilliant smile before finally answering your burning question.

“Of course I’ll be yours. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ Rain Does Not Fall on One Roof Alone (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ Untitled (m.) - Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Golden - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ Coffee (Love You a Latte) - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ For You Always (m.) - Severus Snape x reader

⚡︎ HP: November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

May 2024

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 2 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

The Request

Part 1 — Part 2 (here) — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

You were supposed to wish for Alastor’s defeat, supposed to revel in Alastor’s humiliation. But no, the last moment, when it came down to it, you appeared before the first man and leader of the exterminations out of a tornado of blank pages. You stared down at Adam while Alastor recovered behind you, ears pinned

As much as Alastor’s devotion and twisted love disgusted and caused you to constantly shiver from, you didn’t exactly see an issue since he wasn’t directly harming you or making your life unbearing to the point of wanting to off yourself like the times in your life above. You’d never admit, but you liked having Alastor around and the fact that you have his soul now, made you even more willing to keep him around

Pages flew around you while you held your opened notebook in one hand while your dominate hand held onto your quill. You have always loved the way the feather moves whenever you write. While Adam taunted Alastor for being protected by someone insignificant, you scribbed over the blank page and summoned your angelic weapons, firing it mercily at Adam without stopping

Rare rage of Adam harming Alastor and fear of Alastor’s disappearance became your drive to act. You wouldn’t have acted if it weren’t for the fact that Alastor, an Overlord and The Radio Demon, was willing to spend so long with little ol’ you and even go as far as to give you his soul

You couldn’t just stand idly by while Alastor was going to actually die by your orders. Sure you like the idea of redemption for demons, but you aren’t going to do it yourself, nor will you let what’s considered yours to be taken away by something you hardly care for

“Oh, my dear, how I’d love to be at least standing side by side with your love for that hobby you consume yourself with.” Alastor had once said, long long before he gave you his soul “As if that could happen.” You had once said aloud, thinking in your heart that you’d die before ever letting a physical person or sinner this close to you again. “You can keep dreaming.” “In my dreams, we are something much more, darling.” Alastor cooed close to you, putting down one of your favourite dishes you hardly have the time or energy to buy or make yourself. His grin grew as you inspected it before delightfully partaking in it with a hum of satisfaction. “I do think I can make it into a reality. Just give me some time.” You glare back at him, turning away from him with your food in hand. Your face heated up a bit, as did the tip of your ears. You’d never admit to him, he has a way with words, and sometimes your heartstrings

Out of your blinded rage and fear, as well as your sudden adrenaline, you failed to keep track of the pages used for your conjuring until you were trying to rip the hardcover of your notebook. You paused, as did your attack on Adam

As if karma was playing a hand to laugh in your face, Adam attacked you head on in your moment of disbelief and shock. Having your powers and energy exhausted, you took the hit head on. A deep gash appearing from one shoulder blade diagonally down to your side, you dropped your notebook cover and quill as you fell to your knees, spatting out blood

“I’m ending this broadcast!” Alastor roared as he traveled through the shadows to you, his shadow grabbing your abandoned belongings before he brought you to safety. The taunting laugh of Adam ringing in your ears as darkness swallowed you up while warmth covered a side of you

You didn’t know where you were, but you were positive Alastor was bringing you to safety even when he himself was in a bad shape. You let yourself hang limb in his arms, feeling more and more tired. You once told him you like having a relationship like Ciel and Sebastian’s but a bit different, you can imagine that’s why Alastor was acting the way he was afterwards

When you told him you’re fine and just a bit tired. He held back snapping at you, his hold on you even tighter. He wants you healed, he needs you healed. You can’t leave him. You just can’t. Why were you there in the first place, he would have been able to deal with it and proved to you he was strong. Can’t you see he was willing to do anything to return back to your side?

Red doesn’t suit you. No. You were much lovelier in the comforts of your home, where you were safe and happy with that entertainment you love. He was content with just being by your side and being the only one you interact with. He found you and you found him. It was as simple as that, it was going to be you and him

When Alastor made it back to his radio tower, though destroyed and sat at the bottom of a hill, he leaned you against his chest, holding you with one arm while his other searched through his drawers. Finally taking out a few pages with one word on them. They were all gifts from you to him should be be injured, he was glad he never had to use it

He placed the pages over your wound and watched as they faded out and turned to sparks, the majority of the wound slowly disappeared with time and he covered you with his coat. When you were healed, he hugged you close, too tight as you’d whisper to him

Yet he didn’t loosen his grip on you. Your eyes opened, albeit still droopy from the lack of energy and immense tiredness all over your system. You raised a hand and patted the back of his head, you hummed softly, just as you did before when he was being healed for his wounds

“I’m not leaving you, darling. Never.” Alastor spoke as his body shook, you barely registered his words as your eyes threatened to close. “If you threaten to destroy my soul, I’ll lock you in my staff and keep you there with me. I’m not losing you, dear Pager. I won’t allow it.”

You somewhat nodded, Alastor had always been overly protective and obsessive with your health, wellbeing, and mostly safety. He’d say the darkest things he’d do to you to get you shaking, you’re used to it, it was his way of caring. As pitiful and sad as it is, no one had care like this for you

Your eyes closed as you gave him his order, “Alastor, I’m removing that no seeing me rule.” You muttered, positive he heard every word even with the lack of responses. “You know, I’ve missed your cooking. Your presence in my apartment. I’ve missed you.”

You remember a tightening hug before you fell into a deep slumber

“Darling. You’re unusually free today.” Alastor remarked as his eyes follow you strolling back and front the living room to the hallway where your bedroom and other rooms were.  “Yeah, well, I watched and read all I wanted.” You complained, “Now I’m just walking around to remember if I missed anything.” You paused in your pacing and went over to Alastor’s side. “What are you making this time?” “Some cookies, dear, you said you have been craving some and the shops were out of them. So why not make some instead?” Alastor laughed as he continued to mix the mixture till it was well done. You glanced to the baking book in front of him, then back at his smiling face that you had grown accustom to already. Even that grin smile that scared the living daylights out of you, especially when he was waking you up from your sleep. “But I can’t finish this much.” “You can merely throw it in the trash, my dear.” Alastor stated easily. “But you’re making it with so much care.” You looked down at the dough that had formed, ignoring the way Alastor was staring at you. Your shorter height was definitely an advantage here. “I don’t want to throw away something you made with your time and energy. Considering your cooking, I think your baking would be nice too.” Alastor laughed, wrapping a hand around you to pull you close. You had flinched, but then relaxed a bit. “Dearest dear, your praise is too much. However, if you can’t finish it, there’s no use in keep them when they turn bad.” “Then we can share it with the neighbo—” “My doe.” You heard the static grew, feeling Alastor’s grip on you tightened but not enough to give you a bruise or a wound. “This treat is made for you and not for those sickening souls. I rather burn them to ash than let another taste these.” You sighed, somewhat expecting this already. “Why not compromise? You dislike sweets and I dislike that deer meat, uh.. Venison? That you love. I’ll try your dish and you eat these cookies with me. Sounds fair?” Seeing Alastor eying you with narrowed eyes, you rolled your eyes and shrugged off the loosen hold, “I’ll also make the cookies with you, since I got nothing to do at the moment.” That seemed to spark something in Alastor as his smile turned genuine. “Now how can I refuse such an attractive offer.” You looked away, pushing down that bubbly feeling as you kept a straight face while you spoke softly, “If you left me like you would when you’re already healed.” At that, Alastor took your hands in his, bringing you to the living room as his shadows shifting away any furniture in the way and twirled you around. A sudden darker toned soundtrack playing, presumably from his staff with a microphone on top. His silence to your comment was unusual, usually he’d be laughing it off or denying it. Now he was just being unusually quiet. The dark track that was play wasn’t helping the way you felt unnerved and a bit chilly. His twirling and dancing changed to a slow sway as the music transition to that of a classical piece. Finally, he spoke, “My darling Pager. If I give you my soul, will you believe in my devotion and love for you?” Your head snapped up from looking at his chest, you wanted to shout at him for suggesting such a thing, but your shock was grounded when you saw the smile on Alastor’s face. By now you had known, even while he’s smiling, he wasn’t always ‘happy’ or in power. It was like a mask for him, a mask you’d see through. You looked away, having tried to get out of his grip but he held you with an iron grip. “Don’t joke about that. Soon, you’ll be back out, doing your Overlord things and being the feared Radio Demon like you love.” “And leave a precious soul like you behind with no one to care for? Never, my dear. Perhaps in your nightmares.”

When the hotel was newly rebuilt, Alastor had his appearance, holding tightly on his staff that contained you from inside. He didn’t let anyone near his staff and by extension, you. He kept up appearance even though Charlie and a few others were asking what transpired on the hotel roof when he was battling Adam. They saw your powers, but at least they didn’t see you

“A little magic trick to confuse that rascal angel. It seems I underestimate the man.” Alastor answered, shocking others that he admitted to his fault. Especially Husk who was suspicious of his change in attitude. “Now, may I pick my room? I would love to redecorate, if that’s alright with you.”

Charlie nodded along, telling Alastor of his new radio tower as well. He ignored how it was opposite to Lucifer’s but there was more pressing matters. He took up another room nearby, that would be yours, and reconstructed your bedroom down to the letter. When everything was done, he laid you down on the bed, still asleep

Alastor would read to you while you were still in your slumber, when he takes a pause from his reading, he’d check your wound to see if you were healing and not dying. When he wasn’t in the room, he’d leave behind his shadow and staff to play those anime you love so much. As much as he wanted to play with your unique technological devices, he had no idea who to operate them and he didn’t want to mess up your stuff

While this wasn’t new, you sleeping for longer periods of time to heal and replenish your energy due to over-exhausting your powers, this was the first time you were heavily wounded and by holy powers no less. He doesn’t know what to do and he wasn’t going to risk others knowing he had someone sleeping in a spare room that he took up

“Wow. So this is who you’ve been talking too. No wonder you were more talkative than usual.” Lucifer stood over your slumbering form with his hands behind his back. Alastor immediately had his black tentacles pushing Lucifer away from you and at a wall farthest from you as he summoned a barrier around you. “Protective too!” Lucifer remarked, unaffected by the situation. “Should have known our dear Page Demon here is more capable of gaining allies.” “Get out.” Alastor growled a warning “I bet you don’t know how to wake sleeping beauty up.” Lucifer taunted, “I mean, this slumber and your pathetic desperate self is amusing and all, but I can’t let the Page Demon die.” Alastor’s mind was racing. Die? You were dying? But the wound was, is, healing. You were looking better and better with ecah day. He didn’t even feel his bond with you weakening. “What do you mean?” Lucifer shrugged off the tentacles and pushed them away, twirling his staff before planting it in front of him and leaning against it, “Our dear Page Demon here was once my informant, you know? Got a lot of secrets and knowledge you can never imagine, but I respect the quitting and gave a wonderful apartment and money so there’s a comfortable life, see?”

That’s how you were never worried about money or the fact that your apartment was the only one this big and well off, compared to the others around your place. Not to mention you were in such a secluded spot in the Pride Ring that not many demons knew who he was nor do they care. You were even more showy with your powers to conjure angelic weapons too

The King of Hell gave Alastor the hint to drown you in knowledge so you could soak up energy, you were a unique one, the both of them agreed. But at this point, Alastor was willing to try anything to save you from death and leaving him

What the two did was this. Build a barrier around the bed, making it like a tank, then they worn out pages from various books and documents. The finale was dumping them all over you like a heavy blanket. You were literally drowning in pages now. It would be ridiculous to anyone that walked in on this

“Okay, now all we need is blood.” Lucifer nodded at the handy work. “You want to be the one to do it or…” “Ha! Is that still a question?” Alastor glared at Lucifer’s suggestion “Well, I mean. If Page Demon here takes my blood, there’s gonna be immunity built up. But, your call I guess.”

In the end, both of them dripped blood onto the countless pages around you. It was almost like a breathtaking art piece to admire. According to Lucifer, it’ll take a while. As for how he knew about this method, he was informed about it from you it seems

While Alastor was offended that you didn’t tell him, he understood that it was because you have yet to meet them then. Even so, he can’t deny that you still had your guard up around him even after he gave you his soul to command. It was that element of a duel personality you had that intrigued him

You were lazy and simplistic, yes. You have a mundane life that will bore him to death yet you hate bored yourself. Then there was your keen and observant self, like a flip side of you, or a darker side of you. Though it was rare for him to see, you were very possessive of your belongings and would rather destroy them yourself than have someone else take it from you. There was so much contradictory in your case that interested him so, too much that he fallen too badly for you

He knew the present you to a T. But he never knew the you before him, your history was something you kept close to yourself. Even more so when it came to your human life. All he know was that you were extremely against forming connections with people and that was a knowledge he loved learning about. Only when it was applied on others and not him

Still, he didn’t care. It was you that saved him and given him what he lacked. He wished the two of you met earlier, then again, he might have tried to take you as one of the many souls under him or taken you to torture for his broadcast. So he was fine with the way things were

“Darling…” Alastor’s breath was caught by an invisible force, he felt himself frozen on the spot while the door closed behind him “Alastor.” You spoke, though your speech a bit slurred and your glaze was a bit jumpy and fuzzy, you were awake. “This looks like my room, but I’m positive it’s not.”

No words were exchanged as Alastor lunged at you, hugging onto you so tightly. Your eyes widened, barely having the time to catch his form while the pages flew all over the place from his actions. This scene was familiar, he was hugging you this tightly before you entered your slumber mode. You hugged him back, ignoring the way your face was in his chest

Time stilled and so did the two of you. While Alastor was hugging the living daylights out of you, your memories replayed itself, as did your realization to your feelings for the red demon. You came to terms with it, you really did. How ironic when you were the one judging the characters in the stories you read and watch

“Alastor, I’m back.”

“Welcome back, my dearest love.”

Note: Wa la~ Done! Hope it is to your liking guys! I added a bit of other moments and extra end, cause just the battle scene was not enough and there was more to write! (I'm too lazy to separately post them, there's that)

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

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@youroneandonlysimp

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[silentglassbreak]

Okay but like hear me out…

NSFW

Low level witch - only dabbling in the arts.

Cast a love spell on Noah Sebastian.

You’ve met him, but you don’t know him. You only know he’s mouth watering and has the voice of a siren.

So you and your girlfriends are fucking around one night over a bottle of wine - or four…

‘C’mon little witch! Cast a spell for us!’

‘You know you want him! If your magic is so real, then prove it!’

So you cast the spell. You make the jar. You use a photo. You have a glove that he tossed off stage.

It’s not a lot. But it’s enough.

And you expect nothing to come of it, because although you’re practicing…what’re the odds?

But then…

He’s all over you. Calling. Texting. FaceTiming.

You’re not even sure how he got your number.

And he wants to see you. Offers to come see you on his only off day. Wants to go on a date. Wants to cuddle. Is very up front about what he is craving.

And when he finally gets his hands on you???

He’s fucking f e r a l.

He’s so into pleasing you. Worshipping you. Eating you like it’s his last god damn meal.

He talks you through the entire experience.

‘Fuck, babe. I can’t believe I waited this long to have you.’

‘You can’t even imagine how badly I wanted to feel you on me.’

‘It’s okay, baby girl. You can take more, I promise.’

‘Just can’t get enough of you, angel. Your pussy is like fucking heaven.’

And you cry, because it’s so much. And it shows no signs of stopping.

‘I’ve got you, baby. Just a little longer, I swear. Just need to savor you.’

‘Look at you, being such a good fucking girl.’

‘You can cry, love. I’m right here. I’ve got you.’

And when he’s finally done? He feeds you snacks, anything you want. He lays with you, watching movies, letting you cuddle him until you’re fading into the brink of consciousness.

And he pets your hair, smoothing it out. You hear his voice, soft as a fucking feather.

‘Don’t know what happened, but it’s like I can’t live without you.’

Idfk I thought about this at the gym.

I’ll crawl back in my hole and work on my asks now.

Kthxbye 🙃

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

senses

noun

a faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus; one of the faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.

*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*ೄ·*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*

You see Sebastian in his entirety.

You've seen him clothed, and unclothed.

You've seen him at his best, and worst.

You've seen him cry.

You've seen him angry.

He thought you'd see him as a monster.

Someone undeserving of such pure love.

But, you told him you would love him no matter what.

And you do.

The way his tail slightly wags when he's happy or agitated, you find it cute.

Especially his little ear fins. You've wanted to touch them, but you're half-sure they're full of nerves.

His smile is adorable, and you're happy that that's his 'default' face. You've told him that it's derpy in a cute way, and you swore you could see his smile widen.

His scent. It smelled like fish, naturally. Including tobacco, but he's tried to stop for you.

You couldn't stand it at first, wanting to leave his shop as soon as possible, but, you've grown accustomed to it. Even addicted.

There's always a faint whiff of gunpowder on him, you never questioned it. Deducting that it's from the times he gunned down an expendable or two who flashed him.

His laughter is music to your ears. He felt that way about you, too.

He had been stuck in Hadal Blacksite for so long, he forgot what happiness felt like.

Small giggles from dumb jokes.

Genuine laughter from pranks or unexpected events that made your stomach hurt.

He laughs at you when you choke on air, calling you a moron, and you laugh at his laugh—even if you felt like you were dying.

Fond memories.

Even when he pout, his little 'angry' noises as you called them, were cute. It reminded you of a grumpy chihuahua, so cute but so angry.

Sebastian's lips tasted like cigarettes and caviar. An unpleasant mixture, but that's okay.

Whenever you and Sebastian had time to yourselves, it was used to de-stress.

His way of de-stressing was kissing you oh so passionately.

He never had a reason, not that you needed it anyway. He just liked the feeling and taste of your lips on his.

Sebastian's touch used to be rough when the two of you were settling and getting used to each other. Now it's as gentle as a feather.

He treated you like you were going to break.

At times, it was sweet.

Sometimes you wanted him to be rougher with you.

But who were you to complain?

His hugs are like heaven. It's always nice when he wraps all three arms around your body.

Even better when he buries his face into your neck, you can barely describe it to him.

"I feel so comfortable with you." His voice was soft and gentle, sleepy, almost.

You like to run your fingers through his hair when he does that, it gives the both of you a sense of security.

It's so soft, you could use it as a pillow if his neck didn't cramp.

Sebastian likes when you hold his face and pepper it with kisses, saying it melts his brain in a good way.

"To each their own, I guess." You say in a soft tone, unable to contain a smile, so,

you continuing to litter his face with small pecks.

The two of you enjoy holding hands, even if it feels different since he has four fingers.

Physically being close to you is his favorite thing ever. It has advantages since he towers over you, he can do whatever he pleases with you.

An action he enjoys in particular being giving you headpats.

If you ask him to scratch your scalp with his claws, he will. You make small audible noises of glee, similar to how he does. He thinks it's the cutest thing ever.

[noxxytocin]

Day 30 of Gaunting Salloween - Dementor

• Ominis Gaunt's POV - Sebastian's POV near the end

Art by: @wrengaunt 🫰✨ thank you mate! I hold our collabs so dear!

CW: major character death (ending is subjective), attempted suicide, abuse

No one emerges unchanged from the shadow of wicked deeds. We are never the same twice, yet we cloak ourselves in the hollow pretence of who we once were, only to suffocate beneath the weight of it.

Each sin, each brush with darkness, leaves a hole—forcibly carved into one’s soul. A wound that time cannot mend.

I lost my dearest friend to this very darkness. It twisted the very essence of who he was. How I fought to save him…yet, in the end, it was I who surrendered him to Azkaban’s frozen arms instead of my own. It was I who cast him into the iron maw of despair, sealing his fate behind those bars.

For five long years, Sebastian has suffered in that wretched place, while I am left to decay, slowly corroding beneath the guilt. His voice haunts me, in every corner of my chamber each evening. His weight is there just on the right side of my bed. With each sunlit morning, I hear his smile as golden warmth touches my skin.

His melancholic tears, only imagined, seize me from my sleep, drawing me from nightmare into a reality that feels no less harrowing. And his screams—silenced, perhaps, yet vivid in my mind—shatter me. They remain an agony only I am cursed to endure. I sacrificed his life at the altar of virtue, bartering it for a semblance of righteousness, and the cost has been nothing less than the damnation of my own soul.

His name—well, I had thought it forever consigned to the silence of memory, never to be uttered again by any living person. Yet there it was, resurrected, and the tremor that overtook my hands, the shattering of my teacup upon the floor, spoke more clearly than any words could. Not that it should have fallen from my elder brother’s lips.

“What did you just say?” I demanded, hardly believing my ears. Surely, I had misheard. Such a notion was simply inconceivable.

“There was hardly any need to disgrace a fine cup of Earl Grey over mere mention of your… paramour,” Marvolo drawled, flicking his wand to remedy the mess that, truth be told, offended him more than the matter at hand. He sighed, exaggeratedly so, before restoring the teacup to its rightful place and erasing the offending spill from the carpet as though it were a trifling nuisance. “It appears you heard me quite well. That peculiar pet of yours has made his escape. Remarkable, really.” He allowed a mocking smile to play upon his lips. “I must admit, I am rather impressed—given his apparent lack of mental faculties. Perhaps he has deceived us all. Even you, little brother.”

I could scarcely believe it. Not a single wizard or witch had ever escaped that godforsaken place—or so it was thought. And yet Sebastian, of all people, had managed to flee Azkaban? Something felt amiss. Surely, he would not dare to repeat his past folly.

“Is that all you know of it? You must tell me more,” I insisted, stepping closer to Marvolo. My hands trembled with barely restrained fury, longing to seize him by the neck—to madly wring it.

“Now, now. Why such a flutter of feathers?” Marvolo chuckled, his tone maddeningly calm as he placed a hand upon my shoulder. I recoiled instinctively at the contact. “You’re trembling, dear brother. Tell me—are you afraid he’s coming for you?”

My heart plummeted at the very notion. Never once had I entertained the thought that Sebastian might escape with vengeance in his heart, seeking retribution for my betrayal in turning him in. Could it truly be possible…? No—surely not...

“Sebastian would never—!” I began, my voice faltering as a sting crept into my eyes. “He would never…���

“Oh, do come off it,” Marvolo sneered. “I wouldn’t let him deprive me of my most cherished fantasy. What sort of brother would I be if I allowed that?” With a dismissive scoff, he pressed a folded piece of parchment into my hand. “Here. I’d rather not have your unsightly tears ruining my suit.”

He paused only long enough to mutter, “This was left on our doorstep today. It’s for you.” And with a twisted smile, he turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder as he departed, “My condolences.”

The door shut with a decisive thud, leaving me in silence.

Condolences?

With shaking hands, Ominis hastily broke the seal of the parchment, his wand poised as he cast the charm to pull the inked words into his mind.

Ominis,

Please, forgive me. All I ever wanted was to protect Anne. All I ever wanted was what was best for us. I hold no resentment for the silence, for the absence of letters, for the visits that never came. I do not fault you for turning me in. I know, perhaps better than anyone, the toll this has taken upon you.

I do not wish for you to suffer on my account any longer.

You’ll find my body by the Black Lake.

The Black Lake? His...body? What—what was happening? Surely he didn't mean to… no! Such a thing could not be. It simply could not! My fingers clenched around the parchment, crushing it as tears traced paths down my face. And then, with chilling clarity, the realization struck: if Sebastian had indeed escaped, they would send the Dementors after him. They would find him. And they would…

“Damn it!” I spat, wasting no more time, apparating to the nearest point by the Lake. I would save him. This time, I would truly save him. He couldn’t slip away like this! Not after all we had endured, all we had been to one another. The memories, the laughter, the joy shared between us—I would not allow him to erase it all. I would not let him be taken. Not like this. “Please…no…”

Sebastian's POV

Surely, this wouldn’t be too painful. All I had to do was lie here and wait. It was no different from Azkaban, really. I only wished it could be swifter. The Black Lake stretched before me, as beautiful and haunting as it had been in my school days. Still and silent tonight, fogged in a biting chill that somehow seemed less oppressive now—perhaps softened by the numbness of what I had endured. Nothing could match the icy ache of losing everyone I ever cherished. This would be simpler, far gentler than facing Ominis’s look of disappointment, that quiet agony in those sparkling, teary eyes. I was certain I’d already heard his heart shatter when we had said our farewells in the headmaster’s office, his arms clinging to me as if he would never let go.

But Ominis would never have to endure such sorrow again. And at last, I would receive the punishment I deserved. I did not merit life, not after all that I had failed to protect. I had failed my uncle, my sister, my friends, my parents. And with the Dementor’s Kiss, I would be stripped of this darkness within me, even if my wand lay broken and powerless. I would become little more than a faint memory—a ghost to haunt their thoughts but never in life.

Leaving that letter behind was absolute torment. To be mere steps from Ominis—close enough to knock, close enough to cross the threshold and fall into his arms—was a temptation almost maddening. But such a reunion was no longer within my grasp, not after all I had done. The life we shared, the trust between us, lay shattered beyond repair. I knew, with agonising certainty, that I would find no welcome in his gaze. Nor from Anne, had she survived.

Yet, in that brief moment, I caught sight of him through the tall, glass window. The sight was both a gift and a curse, a vision so achingly beautiful it rooted me in place. His skin, pale as alabaster, gleamed softly beneath the golden light. He wore his finest attire, perfectly tailored to his now slender, tall frame—a frame that time had carved with subtle grace. His face, angled and sharp, bore the same familiar beauty marks on his cheeks, delicate as though painted by careful hand. Golden hair, fine as silk, was slicked back as usual and those alluring eyes were still a set of gemstones.

“Ominis…” I muttered, tears dropping onto my cheek.

But even this vision, this fleeting glance of all I yearned for, could not compel me to reach out. Instead, gripped by fear, I let the letter slip from my trembling fingers and turned away, fleeing as if the very wind urged me onward, far from the sight that both healed and broke my heart.

And now, here I lay, alone and resolved to free him from me forever. With my soul surrendered, I would no longer have the power to bring him pain. No longer would I be the burden he clung to in silent suffering. In the void I would leave behind, he could finally find happiness. At last, he would be free.

A sigh escaped me, my breath rising in the night air, ghostly white against the pitch black—pale as the moon above. I turned my gaze towards the Lake, watching as a thin sheet of ice began to form along the shore, creeping outward until the entire surface lay frozen in solemn stillness. This was it. The end I had chosen.

Tilting my head back, I took in the brilliant glow of the moon. So bright, so achingly familiar; it reminded me of Ominis’s eyes, wide and glistening, capturing light like a silvery mirror. But the sight was shattered as a shadow crossed my vision—a figure cloaked in darkness, hovering before the moon’s face. And then another. And yet another. They were here. The Dementors had come.

“I’m ready,” I whispered, my breath shallow and weak, the bitter cold already robbing me of its warmth.

The Dementors gathered close, circling like crows, hovering just above me. Then one descended, its gaping mouth drawing out the very essence of my being. At first, I could see it—a misty blur of myself slipping from my body. Another Dementor swept down, stealing even more, and slowly, steadily, the world around me faded with each kiss of oblivion until there was only darkness.

Or so I thought. Until I saw him. Ominis—smiling.

The image bloomed with a vividness I had almost forgotten. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile, truly smile. I remembered it clearly: I had just taught him Confringo, and we’d singed our eyebrows in the Undercroft while practicing that cursed spell. I’d made some jest, something so absurd it had him laughing, his smile radiant, his laughter spilling out in waves around us. I’d often wondered why that spell had held such fascination for me. Now, it was plain as day—the memory bound to it, the warmth of his smile. And here it was again, unfolding before me as though I had been swept back in time.

The memory shifted, blurring into another scene—Feldcroft. I was back in my childhood home. Ominis and I were alone; Anne was fast asleep, and Solomon was away for work. We lay side by side in my bed—a rare and precious thing. Ominis had escaped from his own home that evening, seizing a moment of rebellion to apparate to Feldcroft the moment he’d “turned in.” I remembered the surge of pride I’d felt, seeing him stand against the grip of his family, even for a single night.

We lay there, laughing and talking in the stillness, sharing secrets and dreams. I remembered our hands, the way they moved—gliding, grasping. We pressed close, warm against one another, needing no blanket to shield us from the chill. It was, I believe, the first night Ominis truly slept. I could see him now, peaceful, his breath slow and soft, and I could feel the weight of my own heart as I realized then, in that precious moment, the depth of my feelings for him. I couldn’t look away from his lips as he lay there, utterly still, and the truth of it settled over me that next morning.

Another memory surfaced—the Sorting Ceremony. I had just been placed in Slytherin, nerves prickling at me despite Anne’s reassuring presence nearby. And then, a boy sat beside me. I didn’t know him yet; I only knew of him. The name Gaunt carried a certain weight—whispered, feared. And here he was: Ominis Gaunt, their youngest, sitting quietly at my side, as silent as a mouse.

No one dared to breathe in his presence. Students stole glances, wary, as if expecting something dark or strange from him. I was no different—I half expected Parseltongue to slip from his lips the moment he spoke. But what came instead was a soft voice, timid and gentle. “Would you mind… telling me what each food item is before me?” he asked, his hand tugging slightly at my sleeve, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. It surprised me—and endeared him to me in a way I couldn’t have understood at the time. But in that moment, I unknowingly found the truest friend I would ever have.

Then came memories of comfort, tender and bittersweet, unfolding before me. After the horrors of the Scriptorium, I saw myself holding him, his grief raw from the loss of his aunt and the fright of the Unforgivable curse used against me. He was fractured then, torn, yet I held him close, wrapping him in all the love I could offer at the time.

Now, rushing forth, the memory I cherished above all others—the moment of my first confession, however clumsy it was. It was just before Anne’s curse. I had managed to sneak a few spiked Butterbeers from The Three Broomsticks under the cover of a disillusionment charm and brought them back to the Undercroft without spilling a single drop. Ominis and I had our fill that night, laughing and emptying every last mug.

In my drunkenness, I blurted out a thought that had been buried for far too long: how I’d never kissed a boy, but if I ever did, it would be him. Of course, the both of us were stunned by my suddenness. I could still remember the look in his eyes, wide and wobbling. And then, without a word, he leaned in, his lips pressing gently against mine.

The warmth of that kiss burned hotter than the Butterbeer. I melted into its sweetness, kissing him back with nothing but my longing. When Ominis pulled away, I nearly whimpered, wanting to press back into him. We said nothing of it afterward, slipping back into our usual banter, yet we both knew it had changed us. It gave hope. Hope that perhaps in the future, we could be more than what we were.

So many memories flickered before me, so vivid and consuming that I barely noticed as I drew my final breath. I didn’t feel the chill settling in, nor the tears slipping down my cheeks. The joy of those memories held me fast, but then, I was before the Dementors once more. And faintly, I heard his voice, calling out from the distance, growing nearer with each second.

“Sebastian!” he cried.

The sound felt so real, so achingly real. I closed my eyes, letting go, feeling the pull as my soul began to slip from my body. I could see it then—a glow, bright and pure, emerging before me, filling the sky with such brilliance it blinded even the Dementors. And in my final moment, I saw him—Ominis. His face hovered above mine, his own tears falling, warm against my skin, his eyes shining with a light that outshone the moon, outshone even my soul’s glow.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered with my last breath, letting those words carry my love and my regret.

[wiliowisp]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons | Pt.2

Part one | Part two | Part three

What Sebastian is like in a romantic relationship:

➻ he has a jealous and possessive streak, for sure, but he's working on it. it comes from a place of trauma and insecurity rather than any malice, and he practices letting his SO be close to people who aren't him.

➻ that doesn't mean it doesn't come out though; especially regarding people like leander, who seem more than happy to be intimately familiar with his lover.

➻ another expression of this is in protectiveness. in any dangerous situation, his priority is the safety of his SO. even if they are more than capable of defending themselves, he would much rather take the hits than have them be in harm's way.

➻ his primary love language is acts of service. he will happily do anything you ask of him and them some. 'i noticed you didn't have breakfast so i bought you some fruit.' 'you need help with your homework? say no more.' 'i picked up a book that can help with that subject you're struggling with.' and more.

➻ that being said, he's clingy. after his parent's death, physical affection was really only for him and anne. now that he has an SO, all he wants is to touch them. in class, his hands are wrapped around them or his leg is pressed up against them. when studying, he'll lean on them or have his head in their lap while reading. if they cuddle him, he'll melt.

➻ he's constantly fighting the urge to kiss his SO. he loves making out, but understands that 24 hours of the day can't be dedicated to it; he also knows himself enough that once he starts, its difficult for him to stop. when they do kiss, it gets passionate—quick. he simply can't get enough of the feeling, like a balloon in his chest, and wants them closer and closer.

➻ he gets devoted, very fast. sebastian isn't a man who does things half-way. within the first few months of courting, he's thinking about marriage. of course, he understands that they're still in school and can't come on too quick, but he's made his mind up before they've even graduated.

➻ he loves sharing good conversation with his SO. topics like deep dives into the origin of magic, or the possibilities of time travel. he's an avid reader so loves dissecting fiction books or poetry; if his SO can meet him halfway and listen to his rambles, he's in love.

➻ dates with sebastian are always very understated. he's not one for big shows of affection and more for practicing love every day. a date can be something as simple as an afternoon walk, or reading a book together. to him, spending time together is the most important aspect, the rest is just ruffles and feathers.

➻ post graduation, proposal is at the forefront of his mind. sebastian is no gentlemen, but concerning marriage he's dedicated to doing it right. he get's anne's approval first—without it, a proposal simply won't happen. then, he gets the approval from his SO's parents or guardians. he wants everything to be perfect, and for once goes above and beyond to make sure his lover knows they're the one.

(i'll probably be doing NSFW headcanons next, so keep an eye out for that hehe)

[effervescentdragon]

i havent written in ages but here we go i guess. ana, c, dee, naila - this is for you guys. as promised, an spn/f1 au ;)

They get to the Bunker just as the dawn breaks.

Before Lorenzo even parks the truck, another man - boy, really, younger even than Charles, young enough to make Lewis feel every single one of his 37 years like a knife cutting through a tendon - runs out.

Beside him, in the Impala's passenger seat, Charles is frozen. His eyes are wide and he is staring at the boy and his face looks like heartbreak feels.

"I know him," he whispers, eyes unseeing.

"He is your brother," Lewis manages to say.

Charles doesn't say anything as he grabs for the handle.

Lewis pretends it doesn't bother him. He watches Charles come up to Lorenzo and Arthur and he watches the tentative hope on all their faces and the aborted motions that could have, and will, sooner rather than later, turn into hugs. Charles likes to be touched in a way Lewis never allowed himself to crave, and Lewis is glad that he will have that from his brothers from now on. That he will have something Lewis rarely gave.

"Man up, Hamilton," he mutters, and exits the car.

Lorenzo is the first one to turn towards him and give him a smile, waving his hand to beckon Lewis closer. The boy - Arthur - is telling Charles something that has Charles hiding his mouth under his hand, a sureway tell of amusement. Lewis walks up to them.

"Well. Isn't this cozy. A family reunion. How... quaint."

Lewis' eyes meet Charles' wide ones just as Arthur fires a gun in Lewis' direction.

A flapping sound is something Lewis expects after all this time, but the way Lorenzo turns and puts his knife into Sebastian's chest is still incredibly satisfying.

"Charles did the same to me when we first met," Sebastian says in obvious amusement. "And my, you are all very handsome in this family."

"Where's the other one?" Arthur asks, frantically turning around.

"Here," Nico says, his hand brushing Lewis' from where he's standing, always too close. "And save your ammunition. It will not help. You cannot kill us with your mortal weapons."

Lewis can't help but chuckle at the bewilderment on the Leclerc brothers' faces. Charles is blushing heavily as he pulls Lorenzo away.

"It's fine," he hurries to say. "They're on our side. They're good. They're friends."

Arthur doesn't look convinced, eyeing the way Charles pulls the knife out of Sebastian, who is positively leering as he says, "Just like when we met, love, yeah?"

Lorenzo looks at Lewis for confirmation. It warms Lewis feok the inside, the obvious care in the man's expression and the silent acknowledgement of Lewis, and who he is to Charles. That's my younger brother, the look says, as surely as he is yours. Tell me he isn't in danger.

Lewis sighs. "They're on our side," he says, and doesn't need to look at Nico to know the angel is smug. "They're friendlies. You can't kill them with the usual weapons. Salt, holy water, none of it will work on them because they're angels."

The silence is suddenly deafening. Somewhere, a rooster crows.

"That's not quite true." Sebastian wrinkles his nose and mojo's up a Snickers for himself and a Bounty for Charles out of nowhere. Charles blushes, and then blushes again at the kiss Sebastian blows him. "Nico is an angel, a seraph. I, on the other hand," he grins, "am an archangel, actually."

Lewis chances a glance at Nico, because damn him to Hell again if he misses the hillarious offended look. Anything that ruffles Nico's feathers is golden in Lewis' eyes.

"Yes, well," Nico says stiffly, "we can't all be Daddy's favourite."

Lorenzo looks like he has too many questions to even know where to start. Arthur, apparently, only has one.

"Wait. Charles. Are you - are you fucking dating an archangel?"

Charles turns an unnatural shade of red, the same one Lorenzo turns the moment Sebastian says, "Dating and fucking. I'm a classy act."

Arthur blinks at Sebastian, then turns to Charles and says, "You are the coolest older brother I will ever have."

Charles drops the Bounty in shock.

When Lewis starts laughing, he doesn't stop. Not even when Nico's fingers trail softly down his back, and his laughter only picks up when Nico chuckles and murmurs, "Well, now we know for sure that Lorenzo got all the brains in that family."

The sun shines, and Lewis laughs, and thinks, We may actually have a chance at ending this.

The thought, for the first time, doesn't ring hollow in his chest.

[hiddengryffindor]

Wrapped around my finger (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC) WARNING: HARD SMUT

Summary: MC is currently in their seventh year, but during her fifth year, she made the fateful decision to betray Sebastian by turning him in. Now, it appears that he has managed to escape from Azkaban and has returned, seeking revenge. Will he make her pay for her betrayal, or is there another twist in store?

So yeah... I'm jus going to leave this here... Have a nice day <3

This one shot contains: bondage, a little too much of noncon, biting, fingering, p in v sex, spanking, choking, and a very dom sebby, use of the imperious curse for sexual intentions

ALL UNDERAGE CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

Word count: 10,455

I'm sorry if you see a few mistakes on the writing, English is not my first language

enjoy

Finally, after an extensive period of time, she had achieved mastery over her ancient magic, utilizing it to bring to life things that had once only resided within the confines of her imagination. Occasionally, she would venture to Hogsmeade, offering assistance to fellow witches and wizards in need. Her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts were occupied with numerous responsibilities, as her professors were well aware of her exceptional abilities, and her classmates held her in high regard. Her proficiency in ancient and fundamental magic far surpassed her years.

The chilly autumn breeze tapped gently on the windows of the Gryffindor tower. It had already grown quite late, well past curfew. She found herself sprawled atop the large couch, positioned in front of the roaring fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Her eyes remained closed, her face serene, while the dancing flames above her silhouette illuminated the room. Despite being the coldest of nights, the Gryffindor common room always exuded a warmth and coziness that she found irresistible. Although she had the option to utilize the Room of Requirement at any time, she couldn't resist the homely embrace of those walls and rugs surrounding her. A book rested upon her chest, rising and falling gently with her calm breaths, as she lay on her back.

Suddenly, her tranquility was disrupted by faint, rapid knocking sounds. She let out a groan and grasped the pillow beneath her head, covering her face with a wearied expression. This was her way of indicating to the prefects and head boys and girls that she desired peace and rest. She was well aware that it was late, but the comfort of the common room couch was too enticing. It was as if the couch would beg her not to depart whenever she attempted to rise, whispering, "Wait! Don't leave me! Let me embrace you a while longer!" A small smirk escaped her lips as she imagined the couch pleading for her company.

However, the knocking sounds persisted, quick and persistent, causing her to realize that this interruption might not be the work of a prefect or another student in the common room. She removed the plush pillow from her face and sought the source of the knocking. A cry from an owl drew her attention to one of the windows, where a black owl with golden eyes peered at her from outside the glass. She narrowed her gaze at the creature and approached the window, her expression marked with confusion.

With a swift flick of her wand, the window opened on its own, and the owl promptly flew into the common room. The girl could sense the bird's relief as its feathers were enveloped by the room's warmth. It perched itself on a small table filled with books and quills, fixing its gaze upon her. As the creature emitted a soft sigh, she noticed a message secured to one of its legs. She carefully took hold of the letter with one hand, while her other hand gently stroked the owl's black feathers. She attempted to open the letter, but it eluded her grasp, evading her every attempt. She let out a sigh, realizing that this was not the time for such games. Surely, it was Everett, attempting to prank her with bewitched letters. She seized the letter once more and directed her wand toward it. "Finite," she whispered, and the letter ceased its struggle against her grip.

Taking a seat beside the owl, she acknowledged that Everett had never employed a black owl to send her anything. In fact, none of her friends had ever done so. This newfound avian acquaintance was entirely unfamiliar to her. She peered at the owl while it groomed its feathers, a smirk appearing on her face. "Who has sent you, little one?" she inquired, receiving a faint howl hoot in response. She fixed her gaze on the letter, sensing a familiar aura and recalling memories from her fifth year.

A sigh escaped her lips as she reminisced about a missing presence among her friends. Sebastian Sallow, the Slytherin boy who had taught her the unforgivable curses, now resided in Azkaban. She and Ominis had made the difficult decision to turn him in—an action that had cost her a friend, someone with immense potential who had succumbed to the allure of dark magic and his own impulsive nature.

The echoes of Sebastian's screams lingered vividly in her mind.

"You both will regret this!" Sebastian's voice reverberated as he struggled against the aurors holding him in place. "I will come back, and I'll make you pay!" he bellowed, his voice strained. Ominis paid him no heed, refusing to even look in his direction. As for her, she locked eyes with Sebastian, witnessing nothing but rage and hatred burning in his brown orbs. "Especially you… I'm going to come back and make you—" Before he could finish his threat, an auror silenced him, and both he and Sebastian vanished from her sight.

She could have shed a few tears, but they never came. She knew that Sebastian's obsession with his research had put his best friend in danger. And considering she had known him for only a few months before he began to push her toward the dark arts…

No, he hadn't forced her into anything.

A gasp escaped her lips as a realization struck her. Throughout all the missions and perilous adventures, she could have said "No," avoiding all the troubles. Sebastian had never coerced her; he had merely extended invitations. It was her insatiable curiosity that had propelled her forward.

Shaking her head, she brushed aside those thoughts. The past was the past, after all. She shifted her focus to the letter and finally opened it. The paper was neat and the handwriting instantly recognizable.

"We must talk right now. Meet me in the Room of Requirement. Sebastian has escaped from Azkaban."

-Ominis

Overwhelmed by the contents of the letter, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity swelled within her. Sebastian's escape from Azkaban was a shocking revelation—one that ignited a cascade of unanswered questions in her mind. Why had he escaped? What did Ominis want to discuss? What role did she have to play in all of this? And why meeting her in the Room of Requirement instead of the Undercroft?

The flickering flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows across the room, heightening the sense of uncertainty. She glanced at the black owl perched on the table, as if seeking guidance from the enigmatic creature. With a determined nod, she made up her mind. She couldn't ignore the call to action, the opportunity to confront the past and find closure.

Standing up, she gently patted the owl on its feathers before retrieving a cloak from the nearby hook. Wrapping it around herself, she concealed her identity and intentions as she ventured into the castle corridors. Each step carried her closer to the Room of Requirement, her mind racing with anticipation and a touch of trepidation.

The castle was eerily silent as she navigated the hidden passages, her footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone walls. Memories of past encounters with Sebastian flooded her thoughts. The dark arts, forbidden curses, and the inner turmoil he had instigated—each recollection reminded her of the price they had all paid for their choices.

Finally, she reached the seventh-floor corridor and approached the barren stretch of wall concealing the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her intent, picturing the room she desired—the place where she would meet Ominis.

As if responding to her thoughts, the concealed door materialized before her, revealing the mysterious chamber within. Pushing it open, she stepped into the room. This time, the room manifested as a study, dimly lit with shelves lined with ancient tomes and parchment scrolls.

She gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the room before her. It bore no resemblance to her expectations. Gone was the familiar space she had envisioned, replaced by a chilling darkness that sent shivers down her spine. A sense of unease settled over her, freezing her in place. Before she could react, the door behind her slammed shut and vanished, trapping her inside.

"Ominis?" Her voice trembled with nervous anticipation, reverberating through the empty room. Her footsteps echoed, the only sound in the oppressive silence. In the center of the room stood a solitary table, devoid of any other objects. Her hand instinctively reached for her wand as Ominis' voice remained absent. She felt a surge of relief that she hadn't changed her attire before leaving the common room.

"Everett… Garreth… If this is another prank, I swear I'll unleash Rictusempra on both of you until you beg me to stop," she declared, her tone attempting to sound mature and intimidating. However, her words hung unanswered in the air, intensifying her growing unease. A few seconds passed, and a shiver raced down her spine as she sensed a presence behind her. A soft chuckle filled the room, causing her bravery to waver. She recognized that mocking, raspy voice instantly, even if it had matured over time.

"You…" Her words faltered, barely escaping her lips. "How did you…?"

"Escape?" The voice interjected, cutting her off. "I can't reveal all my secrets now, can I?" A mix of nostalgia and fear washed over her, leaving her frustrated. Finally gathering the courage to face him, she turned around, taking a few steps back, ready for any unforeseen actions. "Sebastian, where is Ominis?" she demanded, her voice laced with a threatening undertone.

Sebastian didn't answer immediately, his gaze locked onto hers. He looked almost the same, albeit taller than the last time she saw him. His expression remained neutral, his hair still disheveled. His unwavering gaze reminded her of the threats he had once made before the Aurors apprehended him.

"He is fine," he stated bluntly, his tone devoid of emotion. Her eyebrow arched in response. Sebastian chuckled, sighing as he shook his head. "I realized his family is punishment enough for him," he continued. She frowned at his words. "Allowing him to live, tortured by his family, is a more fitting fate than ending his misery with a quick death," he added in a cruel, detached tone. Relief washed over her; it seemed Sebastian was unaware that Ominis had reconciled with his family. At least he was safe.

However, she now realized that she herself was in great danger. Trapped alone with Sebastian in the Room of Requirement, which seemed unresponsive to her needs, it became evident that Sebastian's desires held greater sway over the room.

"Go on," he challenged, his arms crossed over his chest, his unwavering gaze fixed on her. There was no hint of a smile or his usual cocky smirk, only an expectant look. "I highly doubt the room listens to you anymore," he finally remarked. She shot him a defiant and enraged glare. "That's not how it works," she retorted. He shrugged, remaining motionless.

She wanted to demand what he wanted from her, but the answer seemed painfully obvious. Instead, she managed to ask, "Are you going to kill me?" Sebastian's expression shifted from neutral to one of intrigue, reminiscent of how he used to look at her during their first Herbology class, when Professor Garlick introduced her. He began to pace the room, his steps measured and deliberate, his eyes locked onto her. "No," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Her relief was short-lived, for it was clear he had more to say. Sebastian retrieved his wand, deftly performing intricate wand movements as he advanced slowly toward her. "I want to torment you," he whispered, his words sending a chill down her spine. "I want to make you weep," he continued, taking another step closer. The room seemed to grow colder with each passing moment. "I want to hear you scream."

She tightened her grip on her wand, her apprehension mounting as Sebastian closed the distance between them. The atmosphere was thick with tension. "Then go ahead," she whispered defiantly, turning to face him with a challenging expression. "If you want to use the Cruciatus Curse on me, go ahead. I won't--"

"But I haven't finished," he interrupted, his voice rising above hers, halting her words in their tracks. "What would Professor Fig say if he knew what a spoiled girl you've become?" His words were laced with anger, but he quickly composed himself. Her fury intensified as he mentioned Professor Fig, as if he knew anything about her conflict with Ranrok.

"Regardless," he continued, his tone returning to its previous calmness, "as I was saying…"

"Expelliarmus!" she screamed, her wand pointed directly at him. In an instant, his grip on his wand weakened, yet it didn't flew off his hand. Sebastian's expression transformed from surprise to serene, a small smirk playing upon his lips as he nodded subtly from side to side. "Are you going to let me finish?"

"Sebastian, you have ten seconds to leave this room, leave Hogwarts, and leave me alone," she yelled at him, her fury drowning out his question. Sebastian leaned against a wall, his body relaxed as he smiled at her. "Or else?" he inquired, his old cocky smirk returning, as if he held the upper hand.

"You may not have the guts to kill me--"

"But I had the guts to turn you in, and I can do it again," she interjected. Sebastian's smirk vanished, his mind seemingly grasping the gravity of the situation. "Indeed… you did," he conceded, his voice now a low, whispered admission.

Sebastian's admission hung in the air, the tension between them palpable. Their eyes locked, each trying to gauge the other's next move. The room seemed to close in on them, amplifying their confrontation.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her—anger, fear, and a sliver of doubt. As much as she despised Sebastian, there was a part of her that remembered their shared past, the moments of camaraderie and laughter before everything went awry. But those memories were overshadowed by the darkness that consumed him, the cruelty he had shown. She couldn't let sentimentality cloud her judgment now.

With a resolute expression, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Sebastian, you're walking down a dangerous path," she warned, her voice carrying a mix of concern and determination. "Whatever twisted sense of justice you think you're pursuing, it won't lead you to anything but more pain."

Sebastian's face contorted into a bitter smile. "Pain is what I've come to embrace," he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of regret. "You have no idea what I've been through, what I've endured." His gaze hardened, reflecting the turmoil within him. "But you will."

A surge of defiance coursed through her veins. She couldn't let him break her spirit, not after everything she had fought for. "I won't be a pawn in your game, Sebastian," she declared firmly, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.

Sebastian's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and admiration. A hint of the old spark that used to exist between them seemed to resurface for a brief moment. "Very well," he conceded, a glimmer of respect in his gaze. "Let's see if you're as formidable as they say."

The room crackled with an electric intensity as they circled each other, their wands raised in anticipation. Spells flew through the air, clashing with bursts of vibrant colors, filling the room with flashes of light. Each parry and countermove showcased their skill and determination. It was a battle of wills, a clash of two former allies turned adversaries.

Despite her best efforts, she found herself gradually being pushed on the defensive. Sebastian's prowess was formidable, his every strike precise and calculated. His determination to break her was evident in each spell he cast. She fought back with every ounce of strength she possessed, refusing to yield.

As the intensity of the duel reached its crescendo, a sudden surge of power emanated from Sebastian. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent glint as he unleashed a spell she had never encountered before. A dark energy crackled around him, swirling and twisting like a vortex of shadows.

Time seemed to slow as the spell raced toward her. Instinctively, she tried to conjure a protective shield, but it was too late. The spell struck her with a force that sent her sprawling backward, her body crashing against the cold, unforgiving stone.

Pain seared through her, each nerve screaming in protest. She struggled to regain her footing, her vision swimming with a mixture of pain and determination. Gasping for breath, she glared at Sebastian, her voice barely a whisper. "You… won't… break me."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with a mixture of triumph and regret. His wand remained pointed at her, his grip unyielding. "We shall see," he hissed, the words carrying a chilling finality.

As darkness closed in on her consciousness, she fought to stay awake, clinging to the last vestiges of her strength. She vowed to herself.

Summoning her inner resolve, she tapped into the depths of her being, drawing upon the ancient magic that flowed through her veins. A surge of raw power emanated from her, swirling around her in a dazzling display of ethereal energy. It crackled and danced with an intensity that even Sebastian couldn't help but be momentarily taken aback.

With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a torrent of ancient magic toward Sebastian. The force of the spell sent him hurtling backward, crashing into a nearby wall. But as the dust settled, he emerged, his expression twisted with a mixture of fury and determination.

Sebastian gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. He had anticipated her hidden well of power, and he knew he needed to neutralize it if he stood a chance of overpowering her. Drawing upon his own knowledge of dark arts, he began to weave a complex counter-spell, designed to disrupt and freeze the ancient magic coursing through her.

The air crackled with an intense clash of energies as Sebastian's dark counter-spell collided with her ancient magic. Sparks flew, casting an otherworldly glow across the room. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed, trying to maintain control, but Sebastian's spell was relentless, seeking to bind and suppress her power.

Slowly, inexorably, her ancient magic began to falter. Its vibrant radiance dimmed, flickering like a dying flame. The weight of defeat settled upon her shoulders as she realized her efforts were in vain. Sebastian had found a way to subdue her most potent weapon.

With a surge of desperation, she launched one final, desperate attack, aiming to catch Sebastian off guard. But he was prepared, sidestepping her spell with an almost effortless grace. In that moment, her energy depleted, her defenses shattered, she knew she had been outmatched.

Time seemed to stand still as Sebastian closed in on her, a predatory smile playing on his lips. "You fought well," he sneered, his voice laced with a mixture of triumph and derision. "But in the end, your ancient magic was no match for my cunning."

Her body trembled with exhaustion, her muscles refusing to obey her commands. She tried to summon a defiant retort, but her voice came out as nothing more than a strained whisper. The cold, unforgiving stone floor beneath her became her final resting place as Sebastian stood over her, his victory assured.

As darkness enveloped her, she couldn't help but wonder where it had all gone wrong. How had Sebastian, her once-trusted friend, fallen so far? And what would become of her now, trapped in his clutches?

Her breath caught in her throat as she observed him drawing nearer, the shadows deepening around them. The weight of the situation bore down upon her, suffocating her hopes. Sebastian's countenance remained impassive, a mask of indifference, until a sly grin etched itself upon his face, mirroring the twisted dance of shadows. She passed out.

A surge of consciousness flooded her senses, and her eyes fluttered open. Gone was the comforting embrace of the common room couch, and the cold stone floor of the Room of Requirement. She found herself sprawled upon a table at the heart of the room, its hard surface chilling her to the bone. Her desperate search for her wand was interrupted by a haunting whistle that sliced through the air, directing her attention to Sebastian. He stood a few paces away, toying with her wand, manipulating it with a deftness that mirrored his sinister intentions.

Rising with a mixture of defiance and fury, she longed to confront him, to unleash her pent-up anger with a well-aimed blow. Yet, an insidious force seemed to tether her to the table, an invisible chain constricting her movements. Sebastian's voice, dripping with both amusement and malice, cut through the silence, prodding her discomfort. His gaze lingered upon her attire. Reflexively, she tugged at her shirt, only to discover the metallic links of a chain encircling her waist. Attempting to grasp it, her fingertips passed through the ethereal barrier, the physical and the intangible locked in an unsettling dissonance. "What have you done to me, Sebastian?" she demanded, her voice teetering on the edge of desperation.

Sebastian silenced her with a mere gesture, his voice a hushed admonishment. "Hush now... I merely sought to ensure that you couldn't rely on your ancient magic to extricate yourself from this predicament." Her feet found the ground once more, each step carrying her farther away from him. A profound emptiness settled within her, her magical essence snuffed out like a flickering flame in a gust of wind. The scene played out before her like a cruel mockery, for even if her wand were within reach, it would be an impotent tool against his malevolence.

"Stay away from me," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. She retreated further, his hand quickly relinquishing its grip on her wand, casting it into the abyssal darkness. "Why bother stifling my magic? The Cruciatus Curse alone would have sufficed to--" Once again, his laughter severed her words, an icy reminder of her powerlessness.

Sebastian's laughter echoed through the room, resonating with a chilling malevolence. It reverberated within her, fueling a mix of frustration and anger that threatened to consume her. She watched him, her eyes burning with a fiery determination despite the shackles that held her magic captive.

"Oh, my dear," Sebastian taunted, his voice laced with wicked delight. "Do you truly think I would rely on such a mundane curse to break you? No, no, I have something much more exquisite in mind." He approached her with a calculated stride, relishing the power he held over her.

Her heart pounded within her chest, a defiant rhythm that matched her unyielding spirit. She knew she had to find another way, a way to outsmart him, to break free from his clutches. Her mind raced, searching for a solution amidst the encroaching darkness.

"You see," he continued, his voice dripping with sinister amusement, "I have spent years studying dark magic, delving into ancient secrets that most wizards fear to touch. And now, my dear, I have discovered a method to suppress even the most formidable of magical abilities."

Her eyes narrowed, a flicker of defiance igniting within her. She refused to accept defeat, even in the face of overwhelming odds. With a surge of determination, she called upon her innate resilience, drawing upon the reservoirs of her ancient magic that remained dormant within her.

As she channeled her energy, a faint glow enveloped her body, like a shimmering shield against the darkness that threatened to consume her. She extended her hand, a torrent of raw power surging forth, aimed directly at Sebastian. But to her dismay, her magic dissipated into thin air before it could reach him, as if swallowed by an unseen force.

Sebastian's laughter intensified, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Did you truly believe it would be that easy? Did you think your ancient magic could overpower me?" His tone dripped with disdain, reveling in her futile attempt.

Defiance turned to frustration, frustration to desperation. She needed to find a weakness, a flaw in his plan. Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of knowledge, memories of ancient texts and forgotten spells. And then it hit her—a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the world around her. Focusing her thoughts, she tapped into the deepest recesses of her being, drawing upon a forgotten incantation whispered by long-lost ancestors. The words formed on her lips, infused with a resolute determination.

The room trembled as her incantation reverberated through the air. A surge of energy pulsed from her, rippling outward in a wave of raw power. The chains that bound her magic quivered, their ethereal hold weakening with each passing moment.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, his smug facade crumbling. He stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented by the force of her counterattack. The tables had turned, if only for a fleeting moment.

Sensing an opportunity, she seized the chance to act. Summoning every ounce of strength and willpower, she lunged forward, aiming to reclaim her wand and regain control over her destiny. But just as her fingertips grazed the hilt, a surge of dark energy emanated from Sebastian.

A wicked smile curled upon his lips as he pointed his wand at her, uttered a single word—a word that held unimaginable power.

"Imperio."

The air grew heavy with malevolence, and an invisible force seized hold of her, forcing her body to freeze in place. Her eyes suddenly now glowing when the spell hit her body, feeling a weird peace embracing her body.

Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh. "Surely, you have many tricks up your sleeve," he said, stopping right behind her. His head was now placed on top of her shoulder, his breathing touching her ear as he spoke. "But I also know a few old tricks."

Meanwhile, in her mind, she couldn't understand how, even under the Imperius curse, she was able to notice everything around her. However, she couldn't control her body anymore, only the warm and threatening breath of Sebastian on her ear. The sensation was too good, yet it felt so wrong. The spell gave her a peaceful sensation, while her conscience made her fear her surroundings. Her body wasn't hers anymore, but at least she still had her mind.

"Look at me," he demanded in a raspy voice. She slowly turned around to see him, her eyes shining with the curse upon herself. Sebastian smiled, but this was different from any other smile he had made before. It was a victorious smile, a dominant one.

"Sebastian," she managed to whisper. He placed a hand on her cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb on her face. She wanted to move away, but she couldn't. "What are you going to do to me?" His expression changed when she asked that question. She couldn't sense his plans now.

"Get back to the table," he demanded, but she fought the spell. Her body insisted on moving. "No," she said, giving the answer she should have given him three years ago on their first adventure. But suddenly, she was caught by Sebastian's hand around her throat, squeezing it just a little. "Get back to the table," he repeated slowly to her. Her body moved towards the table, and she sat on top of it.

She gasped for air as Sebastian let go of her throat, his hand now gently rubbing the spot where he had just held her. "You don't have a choice in this," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. "I'll never be yours," she spat out, her eyes flashing with defiance.

Sebastian's grip tightened on her arm. "You'll learn to obey me," he said, his eyes glinting with a cruel light. "Or you'll suffer the consequences."

She gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. "I'll never obey you," she said, her voice trembling with anger.

Sebastian chuckled darkly. "We'll see about that," he said. "For now, I have other plans for you."

He pushed her down onto the table, her body splayed out before him. She tried to resist, but the imperius curse was too strong. She was powerless to stop him as he began to trace his fingers over her body, starting on her chest and then move slowly down her belly. A cruel smile appeared on his lips.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sensations, but it was no use. She was trapped, a prisoner in her own body, forced to endure Sebastian's unwanted advances.

He had her trapped, pinned against the table, his arms forming a barricade on either side of her trembling body. She fought to maintain her composure, her legs pressed tightly together, attempting to create a barrier against his advances. But his persistence was unyielding.

Leaning in, he traced a path with his lips, trailing delicate kisses along the warm skin of her neck to her chin. Each touch sent ripples of sensation through her, causing her to writhe involuntarily. His arrogant chuckle reverberated against her now sensitized flesh, stoking the fire of desire within her.

Sebastian, attuned to her body's reactions, swiftly discerned her feeble attempt at resistance. With a knowing smirk, he remedied the situation without the need for his hands. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice a velvet rasp against her heck, close to her ear. In response, her traitorous body obeyed, granting him access to the intimate space between her thighs. The room filled with the sounds of their mingled breaths and her whispered whimpers.

"Sebastian…" she pleaded once more, her voice a plea tinged with a mixture of desperation and hope. Her words hung in the air as his fingers traced a tantalizing path along her waist, descending down her leg, making her gasp at his touch. The fabric of her skirt, a cruel accomplice to her misfortune, offered little resistance as his finger tips journeyed toward her bare skin. Each inch of progress elicited a shudder and a sigh from her quivering form.

A feigned concern danced in his eyes as he feigned ignorance to her escalating arousal. "What's the matter?" he inquired, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Is it too overwhelming for you already?" he whispered into her ear, his breath teasing against her delicate lobe. Her breaths grew louder, more ragged. He invoked her name, a calculated maneuver to reclaim her attention. "I asked you a question," he murmured, his thumb grazing her exposed skin with a painfully slow deliberation. She instinctively turned her face away, seeking to evade his proximity, while simultaneously responding to his inquiry with a voice laced with a unique blend of longing and protest. It was a tone that only fueled Sebastian's sadistic pleasure, coaxing a wicked smile to form on his lips.

"I cannot… please," she implored, her voice barely a whisper, laden with a mixture of defiance and desperation. However, Sebastian's unrestrained hand seized her chin, forcing her back into his grasp. "This is my first--," she murmured, her voice tinged with resignation.

His fingers traced up her skin, tantalizingly slow, and then he pulled up the fabric of her skirt. Her heart raced as he reached her thighs. She was so lost in his touch that she didn't even notice him pulling out his wand. His biting and licking on her neck left red marks and bruises, and she couldn't resist the pleasure it brought her.

With a swift motion, the tip of the wand pointed towards her skirt and a ripping sound filled the room, accompanied by a gasp from her as she felt her clothing tearing apart on its own. "Seems your attire won't be much of a defense this time," whispered Sebastian with a sly grin.

He scrutinized her body, his mind contemplating his next move, until his gaze fixated on her eyes. "Do you want to hear something intriguing about the Imperius Curse?" he remarked, his hand gripping her thigh tightly, causing her to flinch from the sudden strength of his grip. "I can make you say whatever I want..." Her cheeks flushed with fear, and a look of apprehension washed over her face. "Wait, Sebastian!" she exclaimed, attempting to raise her voice, knowing he was about to make her speak against her will, but he silenced her by placing his hand over her mouth. "Shhh… there," she whimpered, attempting to pry his hand away from her mouth. "Calm down," he whispered, his tone so intimate and tranquil that it brought tears to her eyes. "I simply want you to look at me and beg for my forgiveness," he demanded, and she looked bewildered. "You know what I'm referring to." He removed his hand from her mouth and then placed it on her cheek.

His other hand began to slip beneath her blouse, but she promptly halted him with her voice. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, causing him to redirect his gaze back to her eyes while his fingers lingered on the warm skin of her stomach. "I'm listening," he stated, still desiring a more sincere apology. "I'm sorry for… betraying you," she whispered, avoiding his gaze. "For what? I didn't hear you," he taunted, resuming his movements. "I'm sorry, Sebastian! I shouldn't have betrayed you!" she shouted, and he abruptly ceased, allowing her to exhale and feel a sense of relief as he withdrew from her. "Good girl," he whispered.

"But you see," he continued, his tone almost conversational, "I don't just want you to say sorry. I want you to mean it. And to show me just how sorry you are."

Her heart rate quickened as she realized the true nature of his intentions. She tried to push him away, to fight back against his advances, but he was too strong. His hand covered her mouth once more, muffling her protests as he leaned in even closer.

"Let me show you what it really means to be sorry," he whispered, his free hand sliding up her blouse and tracing the curves of her body.

She whimpered, feeling trapped and helpless in his grip. But despite her fear and confusion, a small part of her couldn't help but feel a growing sense of excitement at his words. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be enjoying this, but she couldn't help the way her body was responding to his touch.

And as he continued to dominate her, to make her feel things she had never felt before, she knew that she was his. Completely and utterly his, and that there was nothing she could do to resist him.

With a sly grin, Sebastian waved his wand, causing her blouse to rip apart, exposing her bare chest. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, relishing in her vulnerability. "Seems you made a poor choice today by not wearing a bra," he murmured in a deep, seductive voice. She didn't resist this time, which intrigued him. "Oh, how I adore it when you cease to run away," he taunted, but she paid no attention, trying to ignore is glare. He rolled his eyes, growing impatient. "Very well, if you insist on playing hard to get…"

He forced her gaze to meet his, their eyes locking intensely. "I would be delighted to hear you beg me to fuck you," he stated, and the curse took hold of her voice, knowing exactly what he desired.

"No…" she began, only to speak again, her voice now laced with desperation, "Please, Sebastian--" Her words were cut short as his fingers traced a path back down her thighs, lingering at the edge of her panties. "Go on, I'm all ears," he prompted, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She attempted to speak, the words barely a whisper, "Do it…" she pleaded, but he feigned ignorance, making her intentions clearer. Slowly, his hands eased her panties down her legs, exposing her most intimate self. "Fuck me…" she uttered, her voice filled with a mix of desire and defiance. "What was that?" he teased, his fingers now tracing along her inner thigh. "Fuck me!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room. His smile grew wider, relishing in the power he held over her. "How do you want me to fuck you?" he inquired, his voice dripping with anticipation.

"I don't care," she retorted swiftly, her voice filled with urgency as the curse made her be honest. "Just get it over with." He chuckled, finding amusement in her impatience, and his fingers delved into the wetness between her legs, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. "I've barely touched you, and you're already a mess," he teased, taking pleasure in her vulnerable state. She glared at him with a mix of desperation and anger, but he merely shook his head with a smile. Using two fingers, he gently parted the lips of her throbbing sex, then began to caress her clit in slow, tantalizing circles, causing her legs to involuntarily close in response.

"Hey, I never gave you permission to close your legs," he commanded, spreading her trembling limbs wide open once again as her pleas and whimpers escaped from her trembling lips. "Stop fighting it..." She ceased her struggling when one of his fingers entered slowly inside her warm insides.

Moans of pleasure escaped her lips in tandem with each thrust of his fingers, a seductive rhythm that drove her wild. His gaze fixated on every nuance of her face, relishing in the symphony of expressions that played upon her features. The sound of his ragged breath tickled her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Each penetration of his fingers elicited a delightful squirm from her, her body surrendering to his skilled touch. Feeling how his finger went in and then out with a painful slow motion, along with the waves of pleasure each time his thumb pressed her clit.

As she attempted to utter words once more, he swiftly silenced her with a cocky smile, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, surprising her... but she just closed her eyes, the softness of his lips felt even better than the imperious curse. The warmth of their mouths melded together, and through the exchange of breath, soft whimpers escaped, blending with the fervent exchange. While his thumb continued its slow dance upon her sensitive clit, his finger explored the depths of her being with an achingly slow tempo, a tempting tease that heightened her desire. She could feel the mischievous curve of his lips against hers, his teeth gently biting at her lower lip, making her open her open her mouth, letting his tongue meet with hers, all while her head rested upon the cool surface of the table, her tousled hair framing her face in disarray. Aware of her unrestrained arms, a surge of hope surged within her, and she attempted to push him away, but the allure of the curse whispered in her ear, questioning her resistance. The pleasure he bestowed upon her was too intoxicating to deny.

A smirk danced upon his lips as he acknowledged her futile struggle. He paused the kiss, leaning back as a thin thread of saliva was the only thing that connect their mouths "Oh, how could I forget about that?" he remarked, observing her futile attempt to repel him. With a swift motion, he seized her wrists with the hand that had been orchestrating her pleasure, leaving her with a hollow ache as his finger abruptly withdrew. Resistance proved futile as he retrieved his wand, its tip gliding sensually along her leg, grazing her skin with tantalizing precision. From her leg to her waist, the wand traced a path of anticipation, then moved with a delicate shift to her belly, until finally, it pointed directly at her wrists. The words poised to escape his lips were familiar to her, their implications heavy with restraint. His fingers brushed against her wrists, now imbued with the wetness of her arousal, as he whispered, "Incarcerous." In an instant, a rope materialized, skillfully binding her wrists together. He guided her bound wrists to rest behind his head, drawing him closer to her, heightening the intimacy of their connection.

He reclined against the velvety expanse of her collarbone, his lips tracing a trail of fervent kisses along the slopes of her breasts. Her hands clenched the fabric of his shirt collar, her grip desperate yet filled with a longing that mirrored his own. A flicker of mischief danced in his eyes as he dipped his hand between her trembling thighs, fingers grazing the delicate flesh.

With a deliberate slowness, he penetrated her depths with two fingers, luxuriating in the sensation of her slick warmth enveloping him. Each movement was a carefully choreographed symphony of pleasure, orchestrated by the rising cadence of her ragged breaths. He curled his fingers inside her, angling them to elicit a gasp of pleasure, while his thumb caressed her swollen nub with a tantalizing rhythm.

The resounding symphony of her moans reverberated through the room, a testament to the electric current that pulsed between them. He relished the raw power he held over her, each stroke of his fingers evoking a crescendo of desire. Just as her climax drew near, he abruptly ceased his ministrations, savoring the exquisite frustration etched across her face.

A few seconds of maddening stillness hung in the air, teasing the edge of her yearning. And then, like a maestro returning to his opus, he resumed his movements, expertly navigating the contours of her pleasure. With each calculated pause, he reveled in the plea that escaped her lips, an intoxicating melody of need and surrender.

"Why..." she breathed, her voice laced with a mixture of confusion and desire. "Why are you doing this?" Sebastian halted his kisses, his gaze locking with hers, their lips a hair's breadth apart. A mischievous smile played upon his mouth as his warm breath mingled with hers.

"Do you mean why I deny you release before the pinnacle of pleasure, or why we find ourselves entangled in this intricate dance?" His voice was a seductive murmur, an invitation to delve deeper into the realms of their shared desire.

"I... I thought you said you wanted to torment me... to hear me scream," she murmured with innocence, prompting a chuckle from him. "Oh, I do want to torment you," he replied, his fingers delving deeper into her, moving with deliberate grace. "So... so intensely." Her back arched, and a sensual moan escaped her lips, tempting him to take her right then and there. "We're only just beginning," he paused for a few seconds, sensing her imminent climax. "I could prolong your pleasure each time you approach the edge..." His voice barely reached her ears amidst her pleas and whimpers. "But since I'm a gentleman... I'll allow you to choose your torment." Withdrawing his fingers, he moved her wrists away from his neck. Stepping back, she watched him in confusion, only causing her expression quickly transform from uncertain to a mixture of surprise and flustered anticipation as he removed his shirt. Now she beheld the body of the one about to consume her, covered with battle scars and freckles. Sweat already glistened on his skin, causing her to instinctively close her legs once more. She felt too vulnerable, too insignificant, too easily manipulated.

Drawing near, he placed his hand gently on her cheek. His expression evoked a disconcerting sense of wrongness, his desires felt tainted, and she never imagined him like this, not even once... and she was certain he hadn't either. Yet, as his thumb tenderly brushed her cheek with care and attentiveness, she couldn't help but become lost in that mix of ambition and determination reflected in his eyes. His caring countenance abruptly turned cold, reminding her of the reality that she was still ensnared by the imperious curse, still yielding to his will, still trapped with a murderer.

"Turn around and lay yourself on the table," he commanded, and this time her body yielded without resistance, as if under the sway of a new master. "Good girl," his words sent shivers coursing through her entire being. "Since someone is so eager to discover how I shall torment them..." He trailed his hand along the skin of her back, gradually descending. "Let's embark on the enjoyment right away." His hands came to a halt on her buttocks. Swiftly, she discerned what would happen next, snapping out of her trance. She looked over her shoulder, only to see him raising his hand. "S-Sebastian! Wait! Please!" The resounding slap filled the air, accompanied by a sharp gasp, reddening her cheek. "Fuck... you have no idea how much I longed to do this since the day they took me to Azkaban," he whispered, before another slap abruptly cut her off.

The exquisite pain electrified her senses, each contact of his hand against her skin sending tremors through her legs. "Not so powerful now, are you?" he whispered, surprising her with another slap. "Without your precious ancient magic... I wonder where that witch everyone idolizes has gone." His name escaped her lips as the next slap landed on her other cheek. "For here I stand, staring at her... so small... so weak." She bit her lip, suppressing another moan. "So exquisitely obedient," he finally remarked, delivering another slap that resounded in the room, yet she managed to remain silent. He raised an eyebrow, observing her, then smiled. "Ah, so you still put up a fight," he said, striking her once more, but even as her legs trembled, she refused to make a sound. "Even if I can't fight..." She whispered, turning her gaze to him. "I won't let you have me so easily, Sebastian

"Very well," he responded calmly. Then, his gaze shifted to her tightly closed legs, and a slow chuckle escaped him. "I'm starting to think you enjoy having me command you to open your legs." Her cheeks flushed as the imperious curse obeyed Sebastian's desire. Merlin's beard, she couldn't fathom why she felt even more nervous now. Despite already being penetrated and slapped, this position, presenting her red and sore cheeks to him, felt unbearably intimate. She sensed him lean closer between her spread legs once again, and instinctively, her gaze met his. However, he seized her hair and forced her face away, towards the wall in front of her, pressing her head against the wooden table. His other hand gradually moved from her legs to her inner thigh, discovering her profound wetness, with her juices starting to trickle down her trembling limbs. "Oh, darling... Are you that desperate for me to claim your virginity?" Her gasp at his words elicited a lip-biting response from him. Now in such close proximity to her body, she startled slightly as she felt something hard pressing against her throbbing center. Her heartbeat quickened as the sound of something unzipping reached her ears.

"Do you recall when I granted you the choice of your torment?" His voice resonated with a deep, urgent rasp. It was clear that a mere nod wouldn't satisfy him; he needed to hear her answer. And so, she nodded, seeking that intoxicating sense of pain, and it was delivered. His palm collided with her already tender skin, and this time, she didn't suppress her moan. "Oh, my..." Genuine surprise laced his tone. "Seems someone has embraced her rightful place... What prompted such a swift change of heart?"

She attributed it to the imperious curse—or at least, that's what she tried to convince herself. Deep down, both she and he knew that the curse had become superfluous; her body and mind had willingly surrendered to him. But she fought, not to liberate herself from this predicament, but rather because the sensation of him exerting control over her, dictating her every action, felt exquisitely intense. "Regardless," he continued, his victory evident in his smile. "As I was saying... I'll grant you the choice. Shall I continue denying your orgasms until you climax on my cock?—" He paused, his hands exploring her form, squeezing her breasts, teasing her nipples. "Or are you eager to discover how many times I can make you come?" He whispered into her ear. Her breaths echoed throughout the room as he awaited her response, her embarrassment palpable. But the imperious curse quelled her hesitation. "Well? I'm waiting... Or would you like to experience both scenarios?" Sebastian chuckled as the curse compelled her to vocalize her inner thoughts. "I... desire to witness how many times you can make me come... I need you to fuck me, Sebastian."

Magic truly was a wondrous thing. Her candid words slipped effortlessly from her lips, despite her attempt to conceal her flushed embarrassment. He required no further encouragement. She gasped when, this time, three of his fingers slowly entered her, the warmth of her depths meeting his touch once more, offering a mixture of painful relief and utter satisfaction. She bit her lip as he skillfully guided his fingers in and out of her wetness. She yearned to gaze into his eyes, but he forced her to avert her gaze, pressing her head against the table. Her moans intensified as his movements quickened and delved deeper. "Merlin... If only I could listen to those sounds every day..." He whispered, intoxicated by the symphony of her pleasure.

She surrendered herself completely, her eyes shut tight, her lips brushing against the table's surface. Sebastian had found the perfect rhythm, his fingers hitting that sweet spot deep inside her. A fervent desire coursed through her, urging her to break free from the confines of the rope binding her wrists. She longed to feel his touch, to grasp him, to witness the emotions playing across his face at this very moment.

"Please... Sebastian," she pleaded, her words catching his attention. But he didn't cease his thrusts; instead, he intensified his movements, pushing her further towards the edge. "Sebastian..." she called again, yet he delivered another forceful thrust, denying her plea. His voice carried a frigid edge, laced with a hint of mercy. She swallowed, gathering her courage, before she could beg him to grant her a glimpse of his expression. 

But as she spoke, a searing heat began to radiate from the depths of her womb, spreading downward between her legs. She grew closer to the peak of pleasure, her walls constricting around Sebastian's fingers. Her moans betrayed her, inflating Sebastian's ego. He turned her face to meet his gaze, delicately brushing away strands of hair that clung to her damp skin. He sought to capture every nuance of her expression in this pivotal moment. He didn't need to ask if she was nearing her climax; he could feel it, and she herself felt an unusual sensation, a mix of bliss and urgency that compelled her to act.

In the next few seconds, her moans filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy mingled with her desperate pleas. "I... I can't," she gasped, her voice fraught with a strange unease. "Sebastian, something feels off... wait, please," she implored, her words teetering on the edge of an admission she could no longer hold back. "I think I need to...," she trailed off, interrupted by Sebastian's hand placed firmly over her mouth, a sly smirk adorning his face. "Now, now... just let go," he coaxed, his voice coaxing her body to surrender completely. "Come for me... I want to hear you, every raw, uninhibited sound," he whispered, his encouragement fueling her release.

Her body quivered uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over her, flooding her senses. Her whimpering cries subsided, giving way to a deep, soulful release that consumed her entirely. She felt the warmth spreading, drenching her thighs and legs. Sebastian merely chuckled, withdrawing his fingers, while she struggled to steady her breath, her gaze averted from his penetrating gaze. 

"I must admit... I anticipated you would derive pleasure from this encounter, but I never expected such a fervent response," he remarked, a smug smile gracing his lips as she turned her attention away, unable to meet his gaze.

Just as she felt the rekindling of energy coursing through her body, Sebastian seized her by the waist and forcefully pulled her closer to him. This was far from over, and deep down, she knew it. After all, she had implored him to continue making her succumb to waves of pleasure, and he wasn't one to trifle with such requests. The next few minutes unfolded like a tantalizing dance between ecstasy and torment. He skillfully teased her most sensitive regions, coaxing one orgasm after another, each release more exquisite than the last.

While her senses soared on the wings of pleasure, Sebastian himself held back, grappling with the torment of his throbbing desire. He yearned to savor her completely, to claim her in a way that transcended the realms of mere physicality. As she lay there, breathless and drenched in perspiration, he pondered the threshold of their shared passion.

"I can't take it any longer!," she pleaded with Sebastian, her voice heavy with a mixture of exhaustion and longing. Yet, her words fell upon deaf ears as he seized her once again, defying her pleas, and positioned her atop the table, her back pressed against the unyielding wood.

At this point, even her ancient magic stirred, a feeble attempt to aid its wielder, but the ethereal chain encircling her waist rendered her powerless, its cold touch a constant reminder of her captivity. "I regret to hear your distress," Sebastian retorted, his eyes gleaming with a blend of mischief and revenge. With a flick of his wand, he revealed his intentions. "But my retribution is far from complete, and you shall endure it," he declared, his gaze fixed upon her womb. He pressed the tip of his wand against her, uttering an incantation too faint for her ears to discern.

Suddenly, an electrifying surge of warmth coursed through her, leaving her trembling and apprehensive. Fear etched across her face as she scrutinized Sebastian's wand. "What have you done to me?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and anger. "You will see," he responded swiftly, forcibly turning her back around to face the table's surface once more.

With a tantalizing display of dominance, Sebastian allowed his pants to slide down his legs, revealing his hardened desire. In a wicked twist of fate, her legs parted eagerly, as if driven by an unseen force, drawing a chuckle from his lips. She remained blind to his actions, her senses heightened with anticipation, until she felt an unfamiliar presence at the apex of her thighs. It was neither his fingers nor his tongue that greeted her, but a pulsating intensity that left her breathless.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as Sebastian plunged his cock deep inside her, igniting a symphony of pleasure and pain that erupted in a fervent cry of his name. He held her head firmly against the table, keeping her at his mercy, while tears cascaded down her cheeks. His feigned concern was laced with sadistic amusement as he inquired, "Is it too much for you?" Yet, despite the overwhelming sensation, she managed to summon a whispered confession, "It's too big." Sebastian's smirk deepened, savoring the power he held over her vulnerability.

Part of him yearned to prolong the exquisite torment, to revel in her quivering need, but the hunger for fulfillment drove him forward. With deliberate, agonizing slowness, he began to move, each thrust a calculated symphony of pleasure and discomfort. His groans mingled with her intoxicating moans, their union a testament to the intoxicating blend of pain and pleasure. The tightness of her walls constricted around him, intensifying his own primal urges, urging him to push deeper, to claim her completely.

The room became a sanctuary of their forbidden desires, as Sebastian reveled in the sweetest symphony he had ever heard—her melodic moans. Triumph surged through his veins, knowing he was the first to possess her, and he intended to be the last. His teeth sank into his lower lip, suppressing the primal urges that threatened to consume him entirely. Each thrust of his hips became a declaration of dominance.

Every thrust sent delicious shivers coursing through her body, causing her to writhe with pleasure. In a moment of astonishment, she realized her wrists were no longer bound. Sebastian hastily broke the spell of the rope, urgently spinning her around until her back once again met the table. Her legs found their place on his shoulders as he continued his relentless penetration. Leaning in, he captured her lips with a hunger that mirrored their shared desire, and she surrendered to the intoxication of their kiss, her arms finding solace around his neck.

An exquisite ache reverberated through her as the tip of his cock grazed a tender spot, and in response, she raked her nails along his back, a feeble attempt to temper the explosive pleasure that consumed her. One of his hands tenderly caressed her face before descending to her breasts. Despite the stark contrast in their size and strength, the intimacy they shared felt nothing short of heavenly.

Amidst Sebastian's groans resonating in her ears, an unintended confession slipped from her lips. "I love you." The sudden halt in his movements sparked an uneasy sensation within her, as if she had crossed a forbidden boundary. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered, her body silently pleading for him to resume their passionate connection. "Say it again," Sebastian whispered, resuming his thrusts with renewed fervor, eliciting moans of pleasure from her lips. "Go on," he urged, his whispers dripping with temptation. "I love you," she repeated, her breathing growing labored as waves of pleasure washed over her. To her surprise, Sebastian savored her declaration, relishing in the raw vulnerability she displayed. "Tell me more," he entreated, his warm breath caressing her ear. "Please... let me hear you." His tone held a mixture of longing and sadness. Biting her lip, she obliged, her voice trembling, "I missed you... so much."

In that moment, he seemed to possess an intimate understanding of her desires, effortlessly guiding her deeper into the indescribable realm of lust that coursed through her veins. "I needed you so bad," Sebastian confessed, prompting her to hold him even tighter, desperate to bridge the distance between them. "I know," she whispered in response, their words forging an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, the scorching heat intensified, signaling her impending release, and Sebastian was keenly aware of it. With each thrust, he pushed himself deeper, but her hand on his chest implored him to ease his pace.

"Sebastian... we must stop," she uttered, her voice laced with a mixture of urgency and yearning. He sighed, his gaze fixed on her, exhaustion and hurt etched upon his features. "Why?" he queried, the tone betraying a sense of weariness. "Because... you," she began, her words interrupted by a moan as she struggled to compose herself. "I'll be pregnant..." Her words, tinged with embarrassment, ignited a chuckle from Sebastian, his favorite sound to hear. "What spell did you think I casted on your womb?" he inquired, expecting her to comprehend the implications. And comprehend she did, her cheeks flushing crimson as she nodded in acknowledgment. "You're too adorable, you know?" he whispered, his voice betraying traces of fatigue. "Now, just let go," he nibbled on her ear. "I yearn to fill you with my seed."

Unable to hold back any longer, she succumbed to the tantalizing torture that had built within her, a moan escaping her lips. It wasn't solely the sensation of her release that overtook her, but also the feeling of Sebastian's seeds surging inside her, flooding her with an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and satisfaction. Her entire body trembled as the hot, sticky essence filled her depths, her voice intertwining with his name in a symphony of bliss. In the throes of their mutual climax, Sebastian groaned, succumbing to the torments of his own pleasure.

As their bodies slowly recovered from their ecstatic union, they remained locked in an intimate embrace, their breathing gradually returning to a calm rhythm. The world around them faded into the background, their connection an oasis of shared vulnerability and desire. With whispered words of tenderness and the lingering warmth of their union, they reveled in the aftermath of their passion. As the waves of pleasure subsided, fatigue swept over her like a gentle lullaby. With a contented sigh, she nestled into Sebastian's arms, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep beckoned her. He held her close, his touch tender and protective, his fingers gently caressing her skin. The exhaustion from their intense encounter took its toll, and soon she succumbed to the sweet embrace of slumber.

Hours passed in blissful silence, their intertwined forms finding solace in the peaceful stillness of the night. Sebastian watched over her, his gaze filled with adoration and a touch of concern. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his fingers tracing the delicate contours of her features, cherishing the serenity that now enveloped her.

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the window, gentle warmth danced upon her face, coaxing her back to consciousness. She slowly blinked her eyes open, her senses gradually awakening to the familiar surroundings. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she found herself lying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, just as she had before the arrival of the black owl.

A soft smile curved her lips as memories of the previous night flooded her mind. She turned her head to find Sebastian sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on her with a mix of affection and relief. He had remained faithfully by her side, watching over her as she slumbered, ensuring her safety and comfort.

"Good morning," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress in the tranquil space. "How do you feel?"

Her response came as a languid stretch, her body still tingling from their passionate encounter. "Sore, but in the best possible way," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of confusion. "How did you--" She wanted to know how he managed to took her back into the Gryffindor common room, but she quickly noticed the current situation.

Sebastian chuckled, the sound carrying a mix of tenderness and amusement. "I'm glad to hear that. I was worried I may have been a bit too... intense." Then he saw how the morning was touching the common room. "Don't worry, I will leave soon"

She sat up, her eyes meeting his, filled with genuine worry... Yet she knew he hand all under control "You were perfect, Sebastian. More than I could have ever imagined." It was difficult for her to speak the truth after being soo long under he imperious curse.

A warm glow suffused his features, and he reached out to gently brush his fingers against her cheek. "You mean the world to me, you know that, right?" Her expression changed to a confused one.

"But I though you hated me" She whispered as her hand touched his. He chuckled and sighted. "I did... but then I started to understand I crossed a line... after I taught you crucio, after I manipulated you and Ominis to look the cure for Anne... after I killed my uncle" Her heart swelled with affection, a sense of belonging washing over her. "Everyone misses you... Even Ominis" she whispered, her voice brimming with emotion.

Sebastian leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, a testament to the connection they had forged. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.

"Rest now," he murmured. "We have a lifetime of adventures ahead of us."

With a contented sigh, she nestled back into his embrace, her head resting against his chest. As she closed her eyes, she knew she was safe and loved, and in Sebastian's arms, she had found her sanctuary. Together, they drifted into a peaceful slumber, ready to face whatever the future held, united in their love and the magic they shared.

[hogwartslegacypics]

Sebastian’s Wand

My personal headcanon: aspen wood, dragon heartstring core, 12-13 inches, unbending flexibility

Starting with the wood, I’m fairly certain that Sebastian’s wand is made from aspen. The description for aspen wood wands scream Sebastian, and given how prominent dueling is for his character (and being one of the first things we learn about him), it seems like such an intentional choice on the developers behalf to have chosen this while designing his wand. Like “Ah, this one’s all about dueling, it’s perfect for Sebastian!”The color of aspen wood is described as “pale light yellow to nearly white” which matches the color of Sebastian’s wand perfectly.

“Wand-quality aspen wood is white and fine-grained, and highly prized by all wand-makers for its stylish resemblance to ivory and its usually outstanding charmwork. The proper owner of the aspen wand is often an accomplished duellist, or destined to be so, for the aspen wand is one of those particularly suited to martial magic. An infamous and secretive eighteenth-century duelling club, which called itself The Silver Spears, was reputed to admit only those who owned aspen wands. In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.” – Mr. Ollivander

Now, let’s move on to the core! I’m more conflicted about this one. All I know for sure is that I highly doubt his wand has a unicorn hair core because we know those don’t mix well with dark magic, and Sebastian wouldn’t have been able to cast all three of the unforgivable curses so easily if he had a unicorn core. It’s possible yeah, but they seemed to come so naturally to him which makes me highly doubt it.

Side note: Draco had a unicorn hair core wand, and even if he did end up attempting to use AK on Dumbledore, I believe it would have failed due to this. His intent would have needed to be foolproof to overcome the core, and he was hesitating to begin with. It would take a very dark wizard like Voldemort to turn a unicorn core wand dark, and that’s not Sebastian.

That leaves either a dragon heartstring or a phoenix feather core.

Dragon: As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Phoenix: This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.

I’m leaning towards dragon because “The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord.” While this certainly doesn’t narrow out the phoenix feather (Tom Riddle had one), it does make me think about just how easily Sebastian was able to cast the unforgivables. Dragon wands are also “capable of the most flamboyant spells” and flamboyance does describe Sebastian well, along with “somewhat temperamental.” These traits are supposed to be about the wand itself though, not necessarily the owner.

The only thing with phoenix feathers that seems Sebastian-like to me is that the wands “show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.” We know Sebastian acts this way, but this is supposed to be about the wand itself, and I don’t think Sebastian would be happy with a wand like that. Phoenix cores are also so rare that Harry and Voldemort are the only people in original series confirmed to have had one. It’s a very MC-esque core.

We should also keep in mind that, according to HP Wiki, certain wand woods can react with certain cores in unique ways, affecting the wand's personality and/or magical abilities. Based on what we know, dragon cores do seem like they’d be more suited for an aspen wood wand because I’m sure the power of the core goes along well with a wood suited for dueling. Phoenix feathers are even more powerful though, they just take time for their power to show. I’m still kind of conflicted so POLL TIME!!

Next up is wand length! According to Ollivander, “longer wands tend to be drawn to bigger personalities, and those of a more spacious and dramatic style of magic.” Longer wands also work well with taller witches and wizards and are best suited to bold personalities. This is 100% Sebastian! He has such a big personality, so I think his wand would be on the longer side.

Obviously we will never know the exact length, but based on those descriptions, it’s safe to say Sebastian has a long wand. I’m estimating 12-13 inches because his wand appears to be about the same size as his forearm, and I measured my own forearm and got a little bigger than 10 inches (as a 5’6 woman) so I added 2 inches since he’s a guy, and maybe another inch because his wand does seem a little bigger than his forearm. Very scientific, yes.

Lastly, we have wand flexibility. Wand flexibility denotes the degree of adaptability and willingness to change possessed by the wand-and-owner pair. Based on this and what we know about Sebastian, his wand would be somewhere on the unbending scale because he’s stubborn as fuck. If we want specifics, I found some descriptions here and if they are canon, I think either “hard” or “unyielding” fits him the best.

Hard: A wand of this flexibility is very difficult to work with and its loyalty is not won easily. Hard wands are great for complex and advanced levels of magic, so beginning wizards and witches may find extra difficulty with this wand when it doesn't perform well for simple magic. As such, this type of wand is best suited for wizards and witches who are gifted, stubborn, and never give up. Owners of this wand also have a tendency to view things in absolutes; black or white. Some people may find them intimidating or difficult to approach.

Unyielding: A wand of this flexibility finely tunes itself to its original owner's preferences and doesn't stray from those preferences, even in the hands of a new owner; the new owner will just have to get used to it. It is particularly good for combative and healing magic. Unyielding wand owners tend to be very confident in themselves and/or in the things they believe in. They tend to be intelligent, somewhat cynical, and usually have well-defined principles that they will not stray from ever. Sometimes, this combination can lead to arrogance because of them insisting on how right they are without considering other points of view or whether or not they might be wrong.

[bloofinntoona]

Open Arms

Word Count: 1.8k

Themes: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, A bit steamy at the end, fluff if you squint

Summary: (SPOILER FOR HOGWARTS LEGACY ENDING) Seb and you apologized after he lashed out on you working with goblins.

Author's Note: I wanted to say thank you for the love I’ve gotten from my first story. I had this one in mind for a while, so I went on a writing storm. Hope you like it!

You have never seen Sebastian Sallow this angry before. His thick eyebrows knitted, blazing eyes burning through your skull. "A friendly goblin? You know goblins cursed my sister to shut her up." Sebastian spat.

It was hard to breath and think straight when the tension between the two students were unbearably thick. "Sebastian, not all goblins-"

"Have you forgotten the mine we just went through? Feldcroft?" Obviously not, there were still dirt and spider web tangled all over your robes.

"No, Seb. I haven't. You're not listening to me!" You basically pleading at this point.

"Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?" He muttered.

"Take a breath for a moment. You don't know what you're saying!"

"Oh, I know precisely what I'm saying. Unbelievable." With that sentence, Sebastian stomped away from the Undercroft.

You didn't consider yourself soft, yet you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, cheeks burning up in anger. Thank Merlin that Sebastian has left the room as you screamed your frustation out. You didn't care even if Sebastian heard you. The way he scolded you made it seemed like you were daft, which in reality was far from that. You had the weight of the world on your shoulder, with Ranrok and Rookwood chasing after you — it's not like you've asked for this either. You would rather enjoy your youth studying normal magic like normal wizards. The keepers didn't help with providing concrete answers anyways, you had to go through tenous puzzles just to uncover pieces of information about your newfound ability to see ancient magic.

On top of that, you had grown fond of your peers in Hogwarts. You have the brilliant Natty, caring Poppy, cheeky Ominis, and smart Amit. But none of them came close to Sebastian Sallow. If anybody asked, you would deny that it was love at first sight. But you couldn't forget the way he showed you 'a proper Hogwarts welcome' in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The fact that he covered you from detention also gave butterflies in your stomach. You took the Cruciatus Curse in the Slytherin's tomb, convincing yourself that you did it because you were in debt. In truth, you hated seeing the boy hurt. You wholeheartedly understand his desperation. Sebastian was clinging to the last member of his family. That was why you couldn't stop him from learning the Dark Arts. You thought you'd do the same in his position.

You sniffled, wiping your face using your sleeves.

It was hard enough to be in the same room with Sebastian, but what ticked you off more was that he pretended that everything was okay with other people. He helped Samantha with her potions, grabbed a book for Poppy, and even sneaked a Fwooper Feather for Garreth. You dismissed the twinge of jealousy that you felt. After all, you didn't even know if Sebastian still considered you as friends. Friends don't ignore each other for a week straight.

You quickly collected your stack of books and rushed to the library. Sitting down at one of the study table on the second floor, you burried your head in the Charms homework that you were assigned to. No use in mooning over the ungrateful Sebastian Sallow.

A red glow appeared in the corner of the page. You turned your head to the side to see Ominis, pointing his wand in your direction. "Thought we'd revise together." He smiled.

"O-oh, sure! please join me." You got up and pulled a chair for the blonde boy, guiding him to a spot in front of you.

Often times you'd wonder why Ominis and Sebastian were best of friends. Sebastian was brash, while Ominis always exuded a calming energy. Despite being a part of House Gaunt, Ominis was a gentle soul. You thought he would hate you after Sebastian showed you the Undercroft, but he quickly resolved it and considered you as a friend.

You were scribbling an essay about the usage of Silencing charm before Ominis cleared his throat, catching your attention. "Are you cross with Sebastian?"

You sighed, dipping your quill in the ink. "I think he is the one who is cross with me."

"I can sense that," he let out a light chuckle, "can't hide his emotions, that boy."

"Who cares anyways... He's better off without me." You kept writing down meaningless words before frustration took over as you slammed your quill. "Ominis, I had to do it. I was thrown into this world without any proper knowledge. I had to take any help that I can get. And I wanted to help Seb, I truly do!"

Ominis nodded, setting his palm on top of yours. "Look, I am thankful that you wanted to help Sebastian. He's my closest friend and the closest thing I have to a family," he paused, "Sebastian... is very vocal about his thoughts. I often remind him to properly think before speaking."

The Slytherin boy's face turned sour, he lowered his tone, "... and I told you about the consequences of using Dark Arts. It will corrupt you." He squeezed your hand, "He doesn't hate you. I can promise you that. The path that he is currently taking is corrupting him."

You nodded, flashing a weak smile. "Thank you, Ominis."

"You're welcome. Now, where were we?"

Threading through the hall back to your dormitory at night, you saw a shadow heading underneath the stairs. Soon after, you heard a faint click. Must be the undercroft, you'd wager. You debated for a while, yet you found yourself walking towards the clock. Raising your wand, the clock turned and opened the door towards the hidden room. You slowly walked downstairs, peeping through the gate.

There he was, Sebastian Sallow. Hair tussled, robes discarded on the empty barrel. He was wearing his shirt, the green Slytherin tie loosely tied around his neck. Sebastian rolled his sleeves as he gripped his wand and pointed it toward the battle dummy. “Incendio! Confringo! Bombarda!” shouted the boy. Fire and sparks flew everywhere, burning the wooden doll. He went for a while, releasing the pent-up anger he felt inside. Sebastian kept on going until his voice was coarse, out of breath. He backed against the nearest wall, slumping his body down.

“Sebastian?” you called up. His immediately perked up, seeing you shuffled closer to him. His breath hitched, looking away as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

The silence was awkward. You decided to break the ice, “I-“ “I wanted-“ he said at the same time. “Look, I-“ The two said in unison again. Sebastian cracked a chuckle as you giggled, feeling relieved that things are looking up.

“Let me start then,” he sighed, “I apologize for my behaviour before. You were right. I was being rude to you.” Sebastian patted the spot next to him. You obliged as you sat down. “You have been very helpful since the first time I’ve asked you to see Anne. You cheered me up when I was feeling distraught, you explored dodgy caves, and battled enemies for me,” he smiled softly, “Again, I am sorry. Not having you by my side is a torture for me.”

Warmth crept up your cheeks, thanking the universe that the Undercroft was dark enough so Sebastian couldn’t see how red your face was. “Sebastian…”

“Anne’s condition worsen by the day,” he held his wand, a faint glow flickered at the end, “I lost both of my parents. I knew from the start that my uncle didn’t like me. He called me, my father’s son, like it was a bad thing. I can’t imagine losing Anne too… I won’t have anyone else-“

Before he could finish his story, you wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him close to you. You could feel his body stiffen at first. It didn’t take long until Sebastian snaked his arms around your waist, his head resting on your chest. You rested your head on top of his, coarse strands of brunette hair tickling your chin. The smell of pines, ash, and smoke filled your nose. Sebastian closed his eyes, savouring the moment. He couldn’t remember when was the last time somebody held him so tender, so gentle. The boy started to sniffle, soft whimpers and cried escaped his lips. You didn’t care about the damp spot on your shirt, all you wanted was to assure that Sebastian that he had you, and he would always have you. You stroked his head as he held you tighter than ever.

As you heard his cries died down, reduced into small hiccups and sighs, you softly whispered, “Sebastian, I’m sorry too. I should have told you about my plans. I was scared of telling others about my secrets. I felt like I had to carry this burden myself even though you always offered to help me,” you trailed, “I hated seeing you sad. I wanted to help.”

Sebastian nodded before pulling back. Both students giggled as they saw how puffy their faces were. You cupped Sebastian’s face, wiping away his tears. “Are we okay?” you asked. He flashed a gentle smile as he rested his forehead against yours, “of course we are. Thank you.”

Everything was a blur as you felt warmth against your lips. Sebastian had closed the gap between the two of you, gently grasping your hands. Your mind went blank -- It was your first kiss. You pulled back, his half-lidded eyes searching for yours. You leaned in again, your arms found their way back around his neck. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Giggles escaped your lips as you bumped your nose against his. Well, your knowledge of courting was as limited as the romance books stashed in the corner of the library. Deep down, you were comforted seeing how clumsy Sebastian was too.

Sebastian slowly lifted your body, your legs now straddling his waist. His calloused hands ghosted over your legs, slipping underneath your skirt. You gasped, head spinning as you felt his hands eased their way under the curvature of your bottom, fingers slipping under your undergarment. He took this chance to swipe his tongue inside, exploring your mouth. The kiss was messy, but there was an endearing charm to it.

It was too much – your hand frantically roamed around his body before finding their rest on his hair, pulling it gently. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, which sent shivers down your spine. Your waist instinctively grinded against his, finding friction to ease the growing desire bubbling in your body. You whined as he pulled back, producing a string of saliva between the two. Sebastian’s face was flushed, eyes looking at you hungrily. He dived in again, lips trailing from your forehead, nose, lips, and down to your neck. He softly nibbed your skin, earning a mewl from you. “You’re mine.” He grunted, admiring the small red hickey now adoring the side of your neck.

Before you could continue, you both heard the bells tolling. Sebastian snorted and rested his head on your shoulder. You laughed, hugging him close. “We better get going.” You felt Sebastian pulled your sleeve as you stood up.

“Promise me,” Sebastian muttered, “promise me you will always be there for me.”

“I promise.”

[xxsycamore]

𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙨 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙣 (ARTHUR X READER)

↬ 🩸 ❝ Now, now…❞ Arthur unfolds yet another towel, laying it on the bed. ❝ You've surely heard that this is one way to treat period cramps.❞ ❝ What is?❞ ❝ Orgasms.❞

Arthur Conan Doyle x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Menstruation; Menstrual Sex; Period Cramps; Embarrassment; Kink Negotiation; Vanilla; Arthur is gentle; Pet Names; Gentle Sex; that gets a little not so gentle; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Sex; Kissing; Lots of it; mentions of blood drinking; Creampie; Aftercare; Post-Coital Cuddling; Crying; Dacryphilia • wordcount:  3,177 • masterlist

a/n: I've been trying to finish this fic for months 😭 My first period sex fic! Hope you enjoy!! If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo, Sebastian 💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

���Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

Trying to escape from the pain in the realm of your imagination, you fantasize about nicer things…and that means fantasizing about your boyfriend, Arthur. If only he was here right now, you're sure the pain would be way more bearable. Maybe he would sit in the armchair next to you and take out the small journal he keeps on his person to work on his current draft. You love relaxing in the ambient sound of his pen scribbling across the paper, it has helped you fall asleep many nights. On those, he'd normally write on his desk, but seeing you snuggled onto yourself alone on the bed never sits right with him. It typically doesn't take him too long to come join you under the warmed-up covers. You think about how he props the book against his knee, how he plays with the ends of your hair spilled across the pillow when he gets deep in thought…

You also think about how on some nights, you just can't sleep, and he just can't write - when those innocent idle caresses start growing into more, and your gazes meet for a second too long. Arthur would slowly remove his glasses and turn off the night lamp; then in a flash, his lips are attacking your neck with passionate kisses before your eyes can get used to the darkness.

How did your mind trail off to this, again?

"Arthuuuurr…" You groan as the loneliness begins growing stronger with your daydreams, and the cramps chime in as well.

You hear the floorboards creak outside the door and you raise yourself to a sitting position, calling an abrupt end to your short break. Maybe you'll go take some medicine, after all…

"Calling for me, luv?"

You stand awkwardly in front of the couch for a second, staring at Arthur as if he is a fraction of your imagination still. He's not, and if it wasn't for the godawful cramps you'd be throwing yourself on his neck right this instant.

"D-Did you really hear me? It can't be possible!"

Thankfully, he's the one shortening the distance so you don't have to, planting a greeting kiss on your cheek.

"Oh? So you did call my name?" A wide grin occupies his lips now, satisfied with himself and his little accidental guess that wins him the sight of your blushing face.

Realizing his bluff, you purse your lips, removing yourself from his smooching range.

One look at you and Arthur is nodding as if all the checkboxes in his head are now marked. However, he's not celebrating the brilliancy of his deductive mind with a smirk this time; he looks remarkably concerned.

"You were lying down just now, luv, didn't you? Are you in pain? Your period came?"

Despite the best efforts of this persisting pain, expressions other than a bitter frown are still able to play on your features, and you're honestly impressed. "Yes, yes, and yes, but…how did you know?"

Arthur steals himself another kiss, on the corner of your lip this time. "How did I know? Is it so strange for me to know my lover inside out?"

Whispering his reply is all a part of the flirty little trick to win you over, and you wish he didn't - because it works a little too well with the whirlwind of emotions and hormones inside you. You shiver whole, barely able to spare a thought or two about the actual reason. Didn't you catch him taking a bath today? Did he take a peek in your underwear drawer, armed with the knowledge about which panties are the "period panties" (which surprisingly IS a thing even with the circumstances of this time and age!), and notice their absence? Some pervert he is. It wouldn't even be his first time doing this, but still, you're not mad. Not when he's palming and caressing your shoulders while sneaking in another kiss on your pouting lips. You love his attention, especially now that you missed it so much.

"Now luv, what are we going to do with you, hmm?"

You shiver as his hands wander all the way down to your hips and linger there.

"Should we get you something warm to press to your belly? Or maybe take you on a light walk once you're done resting? One word and I'll do everything for you, my dear."

"Arthur, you're spoiling me…"

"Think about it, I'll wait."

Oh, thinking is not good. Not when he's so close with little to no room left to be closer than that, save for the one thing you absolutely cannot ask of him. Your thoughts start getting shameless; cursed be the conditions that are not letting you pounce on him. Even if you're never going to live down the shame of it, you wish you could just hump his leg to a sweet, sweet release and be over with it. It would end quickly and without mess.

Arthur looks at you differently now, and you can feel his gaze examining you. You try to control your breathing which might have quickened in the last couple of seconds. But he's too good at this.

"Something the matter, luv? You seem hot."

His cool hand on your cheek feels too good, as if asking you to nuzzle into it, slip the thumb in your mouth and suck. You summon some much-needed self-control at the price of a sharp breath that puts the attempts at steady breathing to waste. You decide to spill the beans, groaning as another cramp creeps its way onto your nerves, both metaphorically and literally.

"I'm horny."

You expect pity at most. This sort of blurted-out-of-nowhere confession is more typical of the man in front of you, so even with this, you're not doomed to become the bigger pervert between the two of you; it's relieving somehow. You hope that Arthur understands.

"Ah."

It's a small exclamation, and it could mean many things coming from his mouth of all people. While leaving yourself wholly in his hands and their gentle messaging motions, you should've considered that he is ready to sweep you off your feet any second. Like he does right now.

The sudden loss of balance surprises you, and you find yourself carried bridal style. Arthur turns with you in the direction of the door, but before taking a single step, he leans in to whisper to you. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you have no chances of escape as his warm breath hits your lips.

"I think I just thought of a way to relieve you from your pains, darling."

***

To your surprise, you're dropped off at the chaise longue once in your shared bedroom. You watch in near horror as Arthur brings out towels and lays them on the bed. It's not long before you connect two and two, and you have to protest.

"Arthur, you're surely not thinking about-"

"Now, now…" Arthur unfolds yet another towel, giving it a small shake. "You've surely heard that this is one way to treat period cramps."

"What is?"

"Orgasms." Arthur catches your gaze, having finished preparing the bed. You watch him approach and you change the position of your legs on the chaise longue, pressing your thighs together.

Sometimes you hate how awfully familiar Arthur is with the human body given the fact that he used to be a doctor - a field doctor, but a doctor nonetheless - everything from your anatomy to your bodily reactions being a mere tool in his hands to love you and to take care of you, should the need arise. You should be glad to have such a knowledgeable boyfriend by your side, even if it embarrasses you to no end when he puts his skills into action.

"But, it's gross!" You insist in a near-shout, realizing that he's now close enough to hear you even in a meek whisper. "Just think of all the mess… I don't want you to be grossed out with me."

"My dove."

Arthur caresses your neck, pressing his thumb into the underside of the top button of your shirt and easily undoing it, then moving to the next. He pretends he doesn't possess the skill of getting it all done with in seconds, and you're not a fan, even if it gives you time to arrange your thoughts. He wets his lips and continues.

"Nothing about you could ever gross me out. I think this exercise would help me prove that to you, even… and maybe by the end of it, you'll truly believe me."

Soon there are no more buttons left for him to undo.

"I happen to know how to wash blood from bedsheets."

Shivers go straight to your nethers, images of sleepless nights flash in your mind with the reminder of the sharp tips of his fangs perforating the skin of your neck.

"I'm a blood-drinking bastard, remember?…" He latches his mouth into your neck, but keeps his fangs to himself. Despite doing nothing to stop him, you know that losing more blood is not the wisest thing to do right now, and you're already sure Arthur keeps that in mind. You still enjoy his teeth on you, even the ones that don’t aim to break the skin. Before he can suck long enough to leave a mark, he breaks the contact, needing you to be good and listen for a little longer.

"Some blood cannot get in my way of giving you pleasure. Quite the contrary."

You whine at his comment alone, as embarrassing as it is, and you realize that you've been rubbing your thighs together a little too hard. It doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as he places his warm hand on your knee, smirking at the way you shiver and release the tense muscles of your thighs. He pats you in encouragement. "Will you stand up for me, my princess?"

Complying quietly, you stand up on shaky legs. Arthur hugs you from behind, distracting you with kisses as he untucks your open shirt from your skirt, moving to his next target. Soon the two pieces of clothing pool at your feet, leaving you only in your underwear. His hand is gentle as it guides you to bed like many times before.

You lie down with the soft towels underneath caressing your lower body, and it's not as awkward as you thought it would be. Arthur doesn't give you much time to dwell on it as he climbs ontop of you, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Burning hot need pools in your belly, a tang of pain mixing with it, and you realize you've almost all forgotten about your cramps. Instead of being wary of upcoming sensations flaring them up, you feel like chasing the prevailing lust that now resides in your loins. Arthur's got you. You want to experience this together with him.

Eager to show him your progress, you guide his right hand between your open legs. To your surprise, he lets out a groan, breaking the kiss to look down and rub the place at the apex of your thighs.

You didn't expect to feel him through the obstacles in the way, and your own sensitivity catches you unprepared. The noise you make is familiar to Arthur, it's hardly the first time he's got you helpless and dying for him to touch you like that. Though it usually takes a bit more toying with you. He keeps rubbing down on it until your body is certain this is nowhere near enough for what it needs.

"Arthurrr… Please…"

"Begging already? My, aren't you cute?"

You pout at his teasing, taking matters into your own hands as you try to shimmy out of your panties. He's there to help, hands meeting yours as he pulls them down and out of the way.

You shut your legs together out of embracement, and Arthur is prepared for this reaction as he quietly tuts you, resuming his ambush on your lips, and you give into his ways of convincing you.

Feeling the tips of his fingers on your clit, electricity runs through you and you thrust your pelvis up involuntarily. Arthur remains collected as his fingers dance around your bundle of nerves, but no matter how gentle he is, his touch feels too good for some reason. You can feel how slippery it is, but the feeling is not too alien to you, and that's a relief. While drowning in the sweetness of Arthur's kisses, it all feels like a regular night with him, you're just extra wet and sensitive.

"Arthur- Are you gonna…" You don't finish, instead running your hand down his toned body and to the front of his pants.

He chuckles. "Only if you can handle it, luv. Say the word and I'll give you what you need. But if you think that would be too much, I can make you cum on my hand now and here."

It all sounds lovely to you, but the hormones playing with your head are demanding all you can take and more. You want to explore this sensation all the way, despite the tad of embarrassment still threateningly lingering in the back of your head.

"I want you inside…" You blurt out, raising your legs in an attempt to make Arthur hurry up and slip inside you already. You obviously don't need more preparation, as you're sure it's not only the blood lubricating your hole anymore.

The shadow of lust darkening Arthur's blue eyes is alone at fault for your walls clamping down around nothing. The rustling of a belt coming undone is music to your ears as you count the seconds before Arthur claims the place between your legs once again.

Same as when you felt his fingers, the tip of his very hard cock makes you jump, but now Arthur chooses to simply observe from above as you forms writhe. You feel him coating himself in your juices and the filthiness of the act makes you moan on the spot. The repeating tease of him threatening to breach your entrance only to withdraw is making you crawl out of your skin.

"Are those tears in your eyes, Luv? Oh, you poor thing, we teased you too much now…"

You're shocked to discover that your vision is indeed blurry. Hormones at fault, you mutter a sound of surprise that turns into a moan as Arthur finally enters you.

"Oh— My god, so— big-"

Arthur groans like you rarely hear him do. He must have felt that too. You're really tight around him.

It's good he slips his tongue between your lips again because the smallest thrust would make you explode. You're getting drunk on this sensation, feeling him so intensely. Just as you begin to relax, he starts grinding inside you.

"Ahhhh- More, more!"

Eager to give you all you want, Arthur complies until you start hearing the wet noises of him thrusting inside you. It's making your face red, but you can't help moaning at every thrust, adding to the sultry sounds.

Arthur is as lost in it as you are, and your heart sings at being the source of his maddening need. Hearing his low noises of pleasure drives you closer and closer to the edge, as all you can think about is cumming together with him.

Locking your legs around his torso, you egg him on to tip over the edge now and here. The unmistakable noise of him cursing under his breath floods you with desire just as you thought you couldn't feel needier, but then something happens that catches you off guard. Arthur moves his head away from where it was nestled against your neck and at first, you aren't sure about the reason before you hear his muffled groans. He fills you with his hot cum just a second after.

You realize that just now, he was biting the pillow. The bloodthirst must have gotten to his head, and he… did everything in his power not to drain you of more blood.

Seeing him so out of control makes you scream as a violent, powerful orgasm is ripped out of you, your body seemingly having a mind of its own as it humps against Arthur through it, and he holds you down by the folds of your knees to ride the pleasure off for you. It's one of the best orgasms you've ever had.

Hormones shifting once again in the chemistry of your brain, you glow with the aftermath of pleasure running through your body, head to toe, and suddenly the need to hold Arthur close grows tenfold. His hands move to cushion the back of your neck as he kisses you softly, spent and content as you are, chuckling against your lips.

"Aren't you going to ask why we haven't done this sooner?"

Still catching your breath, you want to groan at how quickly he regained his cockiness, being a textbook gentleman just a second ago. Though, you can totally see his point now.

"I just…really don't want to look down right now."

"You don't have to. Leave the cleanup to me. I'll take good care of you."

The whispered promise is already lulling you into a deeper relaxation, as you rest your limbs with no intention to get up anytime soon. Arthur is… absolutely, shamelessly spoiling you rotten. Both with his gentle care and with his ways of casually giving you one of the best orgasms of your life, making you discover a new kink.

Oh, and your pain is completely gone, by the way.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @princess-pray-a Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast in a Muggle Nursing Home

Time has passed, as it does so well, and our sweethearts have all ended up in the same nursing home in the late 1900s/early 2000s for the sake of convenience. Why a muggle nursing home? Why not?

Sebastian Sallow

Still a troublemaker through and through. Sebastian’s charm has only increased with age, and it only takes a wink and a smile before whatever tomfoolery he got into is forgiven. He has no concept of curfew (has he ever?) and will regularly wander off either alone or with Ominis to see if they can get into mischief or visit the local library (or pub). He will absolutely use his advanced age to excuse whatever nonsense he gets up to, but he’s still sharp as a tack and perfectly lucid. He really enjoys quieter moments as well, settling in his favourite chair with a good book, though the muggle TV holds a lot of fascination for him. He loves watching The Bill, and he once stole a muggle policeman’s hat, though his absolute favourite thing to watch is cartoons, particularly Tom and Jerry.

He doesn’t have family to visit him, he never had children, but he’s more than okay with that. He’s got his friends and his partner, and that’s all that matters to him.

Ominis Gaunt

Extremely proud, he refuses even the slightest help, and gets very angry if the staff don’t respect this. He would quite literally rather die than have someone help him shower or feed him, and he has on occasion used the Confundus charm on staff that won’t leave him alone. Aside from this, he is unendingly polite to the staff and generally keeps out of trouble, unless he feels things have gotten too quiet. Then, it’s a whisper in Sebastian’s ear, and the pair of them cause no end of bother, reliving their school days with abject glee. His favourite muggle invention over the last century is absolutely personal audio players, and he’s got a little mp3 player stuffed full of audiobooks and dramas. Make sure he’s got plenty of tea and a good stack of sandwiches, pop him in a patch of sunlight, and he’ll happily stay there all day, listening to his books.

Similarly to Sebastian, Ominis never had children, but he’s content with this decision. Considering what happened with Voldemort, he’s even more convinced that he did the right thing by not breeding. He and his wife are perfectly happy together as they are. Besides, the other's grandchildren/great-grandchildren get on his nerves, and he'll hide away if they visit.

Garreth Weasley

Loves a spongebath, our Garreth. He’s definitely the type to pretend he’s more helpless than he actually is just so he can flirt with the staff. He has absolutely dropped something on purpose and asked for someone to pick it up for him just so he can smirk at the view as they bend over. He’s energetic for his age and has visitors from his family at least twice or thrice a week, who always try and convince him to come and live with one of them instead. The main reason he’s here instead of at home is so he can keep Leander company. Garreth’s not able to experiment with potions so much in a muggle nursing home, so he’s swapped his passion for potions into culinary experiments. He’s a surprisingly talented chef, and when he’s allowed in the kitchen, everyone enjoys a magnificent meal. He keeps up a friendly rivalry with Sebastian and Ominis (house pride and all that), but over the decades they’ve all become extremely good friends.

Leander Prewett

Leander’s grown in confidence over the years into quite a suave person. Of course, it's not a patch on Ominis’ charm but he’s no longer interested in imitating people to try and seem impressive – he’s just happy with who he is. He’s developed a bit of an eccentric fashion sense and his wardrobe is huge. Poppy can often be found raiding his closets looking for something he doesn’t wear anymore so she can make outfits for her pets. He’s still reserved in some ways, and his favourite thing to do is potter about in the garden (usually wearing his favourite feather boa and some 1991 novelty glasses that he picked up somewhere). He does sneakily grow some magical plants among the usual muggle ones, and it always makes him chuckle when the staff think they’re hallucinating the big bush by the window moving by itself. If the weather’s not right for gardening, he’s tinkering with muggle items, and Garreth’s great-grandson, Arthur, is more than happy to show him a thing or two.

Natsai Onai

Natty is the kind of granny everyone loves to sit by as she tells the most fantastical stories. She’s filled out quite a lot over the years, and she gives the warmest hugs. Natty’s more often than not surrounded by all the grandchildren of all the residents that have them, including her own, who call her ‘Nana Nats,’ much to her delight. She’s a published author, writing about her adventures at Hogwarts and as an Auror as though they were fantasy detective stories. Though she’s quite well off because of this, she stays here with her friends and uses her money to always make sure there are sweets for the grandchildren and presents for her friends and the staff. In quieter moments, she’s either cozied up with Amit or taking tea with the girls, gossiping and pouring over muggle magazines about knitting and crochet. She adores making jumpers for everyone for Christmas.

Poppy Sweeting

Poppy is just as obsessed with animals as she has been all her life, and she’s constantly rescuing birds that fell out of their nests, squirrels with injured paws, hedgehogs that need a good clean, not to mention the veritable army of stray cats that know they’ll get fed if they come to this particular nursing home. The staff have long given up trying to stop this, and Poppy’s bedroom looks kind of like what would happen if Snow White sang for three hours straight. She frequently frightens the life out of the staff when they find her halfway up a tree in her slippers and poncho, trying to see baby birds in their nests.

When she’s not hoarding every wild animal under the sun, Poppy can most often be found trying to use the internet to learn more about animals, or watching nature documentaries by Sir David Attenborough (something she and Ominis share a fondness for). She enjoys helping Garreth in the kitchen when he’s allowed, especially if he’s baking, but that’s mainly so she can lick the bowl.

She leaves cat hair everywhere.

Amit Thakkar

Amit is a kindly old grandpa who knows more about space and the cosmos than perhaps anyone else alive, and he’s written several books on the subject that are popular in both wizarding and muggle communities, though he is best known as one of the country’s leading Magical Historians. He delights in sharing this knowledge with anyone who will listen, and he’s usually got a pocketful of Indian sweeties to share with anyone who endures his lectures for longer than ten minutes. He likes to keep active and loves going out for walks with Natty when they’re both feeling up to it before enjoying a hot chocolate and retiring for a nap.

Imelda Reyes

Imelda achieved her dream of becoming an International Quidditch Star, and even now, seventy years later, she will not shut up about it. Her trophies are proudly displayed in her room along with banners and posters that she’s had to charm to stop the muggle staff noticing anything weird, and if asked, she poutingly tells them she used to be a Rugby star, which is also true. Imelda played Rugby in between playing quidditch, and she was very, very good at it. She adores the sport and watches it religiously on the muggle TV, deriding football as a ‘game for ninnies.’ Any Rugby matches happening nearby, no matter who’s playing, she’s going to nab herself some tickets and go. Poppy frequently tags along to these, and these two little old ladies cause no end of mayhem once there. They’ve even been on the news a few times by accident.

Masterlist

[hisbutleronhiatus]

It has been 55 days since the Kuroshitsuji hiatus was announced.

Sebastian is helping Ash preen his feathers to make sure the angel’s wings stay neat and pristine.

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Locked In

Sebastian Sallow x m!reader

Summary - Request for “Hey! I love your fics they're so enjoyable to read, I was wondering if you could write something where reader and Sebastian get trapped inside an all anti magic room and now their only option is to wait for help but hours go by, it getting cold and they begin to need eachother 😶"

Word Count - 2,144

Warnings - 18+ light smut

A/N - I opted to do this one as m!reader because why not and it wasn't specified. I hope it came out satisfactory enough

In an effort to keep Sebastian at bay and out of any more major trouble, you had convinced him to keep his escapades inside of Hogwarts. He often used Anne as a reason why he was up to no good. You knew that was partially true. The other part of him just couldn't sit still and be satiated attending classes like normal. After a charms class where you learned Ascendio, he could barely sit still until you had a free period. It wasn't exactly a secret that the castle had hidden rooms and paths all over the place, you just had to look. There was a statue in the courtyard that was so isolated Sebastian figured it had to have some purpose. He had cast loads of spells at it, including reparo once or twice, trying to uncover whatever it hid.

"This has got to be it! It's had a feather carved on the bottom this whole time," he spoke to you in excitedly.

It was afternoon when you had the time to go explore and you could barely keep up with him on the walk there. He just barely looked around to ensure you were alone before he cast the spell.

"Ascendio!"

The light from his wand struck the image of a feather and it popped off and flew straight up into the air. It seemed this had caused the weight of the statue to shift and it swung to the side revealing an opening in the ground.

Sebastian threw his fists in the air in triumph before making his way over, kneeling down to peer into the hole.

"There's a ladder here and I can make out a hallway, it looks lit up with torches," he brought his head up to look at you, hair flopping back into place, " what are you waiting for?"

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before a laugh escaped your mouth.

"Sebastian you want me to crawl into this dark hole in the ground? It seems a bit dungeon-y. You don't think we should prepare first?"

He shrugged, fully preparing himself to get on the ladder and start heading down whether you followed him or not.

"It's Hogwarts, there can't be anything worse down here than we've fought before."

You let out a groan, resolved to following him because you knew he wouldn't listen. He had been trying for days to find out what the statue was hiding.

You started down the ladder behind him, feet thudding onto the stone floor below when you reached the bottom. Looking up you could see that it was much further below ground that you had anticipated.

You turned to see Sebastian, wand at the ready and anxious to start poking around.

"Come on, Y/N."

He grabbed your hand and started down the hallway, examining every brick in the walls to make sure he didn't miss a thing.

"I hope these leads us somewhere more interesting than that time all we found was a pair of goggles. Honestly sometimes it's like the wizards who built these things are just playing tricks on us."

You smiled as he pulled you along, threading your fingers through his for a more comfortable grip. You attempted to be cautious, but really all you were in was a narrow tunnel that didn't seem too intimidating.

As you both took in the scene you finally made your way to the end of the hall where an old, ricket door was just hanging open.

"Alright, Sebastian. Go tell me what your treasure is."

His face dropped as you halted your steps, not keen on entering the dark room.

"Come on, I'll just be twice as disappointed if I open some rubbish chest without you. Are you scared?" he teased you.

You dropped his hand, crossing your arms.

"It looks creepy. This hallway was lit well enough, but I do not just wander into dark rooms."

He looked at you with a pout on his face, "I guess we're not going anywhere then until you're willing to come with me."

"You are 18 years old, Sebastian."

"So are you, and you're afraid of the dark?!"

He reached out to you, tugging on your robes until you reluctantly stumbled past the door with him. The door swung closed behind you as you both tried and failed to cast lumos.

You both jumped in surprise and the second you went to pull on the handle it just fell off in your hands. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, trying to not think about how much you wanted to kill Sebastian. You could hear him frantically trying to cast a spell, but no light ever appeared.

"Y/N..." his voice was quiet and feeble as he realized the mistake he had made.

"Sebastian. The door is locked."

You slowly turned around to face him, only the broad outline of his figure visible in the dark.

"You just got us —"

"How was I supposed to know!"

You yelled over top of each other before both going silent. You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a laugh you couldn't hold.

"I'm not sure why I expected this to go any differently. This is just what happens when I'm around you."

He gave you a sheepish smile, "But it's fun and keeps you on your toes right? Never boring?"

You both burst out laughing and resigned to your fate of not getting out of that door and being stuck in the dark. You started to take in what was around you, but it was clear there was no obvious exit.

The room was small and smelled of dust. It seemed like someone's private study with some books lining the shelves, a desk, and a small sofa. Unfortunately, there wasn't even a whole lot to explore to occupy yourselves. Opening up the books did you no good since you couldn't see.

You sighed and took a seat on the old sofa. Your eyes had now adjusted somewhat to the mostly dark room, you tried a few innocuous spells to see if anything would work, but they all failed.

"Well, I think we may have to rethink this and wait for everyone to notice we've gone missing together. At least Ominis should notice that it's strange for us both not to be in class."

Sebastian sat next to you, dejected.

"I'm sorry. I — I guess that I should have let you stay outside the room. Then at least you could've sent for some help."

"Are you scared in here? You can sit closer to me. It's understandable if you don't like the dark."

You felt him scoot closer to you and you sighed. After having fought trolls and huge spiders, you didn't like admitting you were a grown man afraid of the dark.

You moved close enough to where your thighs pressed against on another and you leaned onto his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and gently rubbed across your arm.

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think there are any monsters in here."

"Monsters? Sebastian, you're literally touching me."

He shoved you lightly with his body and you realized how nice it felt to be so close. Your thoughts wandered to places you were certain were not appropriate for the current situation. You shifted in your seat attempting to hide the tugging of your trousers to adjust yourself.

You sat together for a long while and began to lose time, once or twice you had drifted to sleep against Sebastian, curling up against him and clinging to his robes. Every time you woke up you felt embarrassed and attempted to right yourself, but he would just lean into you a squeeze his arms that were around you.

In a lucid moment, you commented about how it felt cold in the room.

"It must be dark by now. I'm upset we've missed dinner more than anything, but you're right," he sighed.

He lifted you from his lap for a moment before bringing his cloak around you to encase you.

"Is this any better?"

You shrugged your shoulders against him, "We've been practically cuddling for hours. You've held me this whole time and it's still cold. While I do enjoy it, it's just not helping much."

Normally you would feel silly to tell him such things, but it was hard to care too much when you were trapped in the dark and he couldn't see you anyhow.

"Besides, you've got to be cold too," you squeezed his side, surprised when he shivered.

You bolted upright and immediately started trying to cover him with your own robe as well.

"Sebastian! You should have mentioned you were cold, I've just been half-asleep this whole time."

He placed a hand over yours to stop you. At this point you could both see fairly well even in the darkness.

"No, it's, er, not that. I'm fine, really. I wore this sweater underneath my shirt today."

Your eyebrows creased together in confusion.

"What? I mean, I know you must be cold too, but if that's not the problem, what is? Are you feeling sick?"

You placed a hand on his forehead, realizing it was futile since your hand was cold and of course he was going to feel warm.

"No," you could almost make out the ghost of a smile on his features, "there's nothing you needed to worry about."

He guided your hand off of his forehead and rested it on his lap. That was when his eyes went wide and he realized his mistake.

"Oh," was what slipped from your mouth as your hand rested on his erection. You felt frozen to the spot, especially since he had guided your hand there.

"No! I didn't mean for you to do anything," he tossed your hand aside, "I, it was an accident, I don't know why I feel this way right now." He rubbed the side of his neck and looked away from you.

In that moment you felt like your opportunity was now or never to act on the things that had plagued your mind for a while now. You threw your leg over his and straddled his lap, planting a wet kiss on his lips.

You pulled away breathless. You wanted to say something, to let him know if he didn't feel the same that he didn't have to do anything, but he didn't allow you the time. His hand was tugging on your hair in seconds, bringing you closer again. When you pressed your hips to his he moaned into your mouth.

"I think this is a good idea to warm up," he said between kisses. You had no protests. You guided a cold hand beneath his shirt, untucking it from his pants to feel his warm abdomen.

"Keep touching me," he whined. You trailed your mouth across his jaw, down to his neck, sucking and pulling at his sensitive skin. You were definitely starting to feel warmer already. He encircled his arms around you to trace his fingers down your back and grip your ass, firmly pulling your own hard-on against him. Incoherent words tumbled from both of your lips while you desperately felt each other up.

You adjusted yourself to work on unfastening his pants when all of a sudden the door behind you thudded open loudly, a warm light entering the room. You jumped apart, rolling off of Sebastian to sit next to him.

You were greeted with Imelda standing in front of you, hands on her hips as Ominis stood behind her.

"Why have you two been hiding in here all day?! To snog?"

Ominis raised his brows at you both, unable to see the red faces and tented pants that Imelda could.

Sebastian stuttered, trying to answer for you both, but clearly at a loss for words.

"I — we were," he cleared his throat to prevent his voice from cracking, "we were. We learned accio and I wanted to come down here to explore."

She shook her head, scolding you like you were her children, "Did you just figure out that's how you get down here? Everyone knows about this place, they just aren't dumb enough to lock themselves in this room. The hallway is usually a fine enough place to hide."

You exchanged helpless glances with Sebastian, realizing now that it looked like you had come down here for one very specific purpose.

"No! That's not why we came down here, we've been down here all day and it was boring and cold and it—"

She put a hand up to stop you before you could incriminate yourself anymore.

"I don't want to hear it. Just get out of here so we can hand over all your missed assignments."

"Sebastian, why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?"

[hufflegruff]

Chapter 2: A Knowing Look

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

“Sebastian, would you like to join us next time?” “Oh me? Beasts watching?” He drawled absentmindedly, “Can’t say it’s really my thing.” Poppy nodded, “I figured as much. But our dear friend has recently been so terribly insistent on finding the snidgets before the poachers do and I feel bad for taking up so much of her time. Seeing as you’re courting, I thought you might like to spend more time together.” Sebastian stopped and his brain short circuited entirely. What did she just say? Did Poppy Sweeting just say courting?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 AO3 link

Chapter 2: Poppy

Sebastian felt a little ill. 

Like a thousand lacewing flies were lodged deep inside a crevice in his stomach, threatening to burst and split him wide open.

Perhaps it was the pumpkin pasties from lunch. Perhaps Lucan Brattleby poisoned him out of spite after he’d told him that he’d have to miss Crossed Wands due to more pressing matters. Perhaps it was the plague.

Whatever it was, he needed it gone. Like pronto.

After Ominis’ outrageous comments and his whole spiel about friends not looking at each other like that… Well, it was all he could damn well think about now. 

Especially now that it was just the two of them. In close proximity. In a secluded corner of the library where the eyes of prying students couldn’t reach them. 

She sat calmly next to him. Her attention solely on the pile of books in front of her. How? He wondered, when he felt so unsettled. Their knees were just barely touching. Their shoulders were a Diricawl feather apart. Their breaths were atrociously loud in the silence. Sebastian’s mind was racing a million miles a second.  

Damn Ominis. Making him over-think.

Okay fine. Sure. Sebastian tended to keep an eye out for her. Which to the untrained eye (or the blind), could be misconstrued for lovelorn longing.

But how could he not look out for her? When she was practically a walking Ashwinder magnet, Goblin bait and a flight risk balled into one. If he didn’t, who knew what kind of ridiculous trouble she’d get herself into? As a friend , that would be terribly thoughtless of him. This misunderstanding honestly just stemmed from his good conscience as a friend, worried for another dear friend.

Yes. That was well and truly it.

But then again… he supposed there was also the matter of her appearance.

As if it had been waiting on cue, the clouds parted and the library skylight casted a perfect beam of light onto her. He took this chance to look at her properly, to observe the focused crease of her brow. The rougeish glint in her eyes. The soft curve of her cheek. The flecks of light caught in her hair and the way it cascaded over her shoulders. The traces of scars on her fingers from burdensome battles and arduous work. The delicate shape of her neck. The slight pout of her lips. 

All of these parts of her came together, through hell and fire, to forge her. The prodigal hero. The slayer of trolls. The girl like no other.

And Gods, was she pretty. 

So pretty that it was difficult for him to look away.

But that didn’t mean anything. None of it meant anything. Because friends could certainly be pretty. Sebastian had been friends with tons of pretty girls before. And it was just a fact of nature that pretty things were made to be looked at. 

His eyes dropped to her fingers that stroked the edge of an old book. All of a sudden (overwhelmingly at once) the urge to hold onto it became not a want but a need.

Was it dastardly (blasphemous? outrageous?) to assume that some pretty things were made to be touched too?

He was so close to her. If he just reached out his hands he would —

Oh no. No no no.

He shooed away the rogue thought that sneaked its way into his mind. Merlin’s beard, how did that get there?

In a quick bid to distract himself, he picked up a random book from the pile she had haphazardly curated. But that proved to be a terrible mistake, when - what he assumed must’ve been - centuries worth of dust scattered into the stagnant library air. Sebastian went into an ungraceful coughing fit.

“What does Thistlewood have us looking for again?” Sebastian choked out as he waved the dust out of his eyes. 

She didn’t look at him (to his disappointment) but replied, “An old book. Helena said she heard a rumour that her ancestors hid an enchanted map to the heirloom in an old book in the Hogwarts library.”

He raised a brow, “Okay? Anything else?” 

Was that too haughty? Too sardonic? If she was annoyed, she didn’t show it.

But surely there must be more. Surely Helena Thistlewood gave the Hero of Hogwarts more to go on than that. 

“Unfortunately,” she replied diplomatically, “That’s all the clues I have at hand.”

Nevermind that she had just admitted she was grasping at straws - she still wasn’t looking at him. Why wouldn’t she look at him? He knew they were here with a job to do - but the books couldn’t be that much more interesting than him that she couldn’t even spare a glance. 

Could they? 

Sebastian always felt an inexplicable compulsion to look at her (as all friends would, he assumed). So by some wicked thread of logic, he believed it would only make cosmic sense she felt the same. 

“Well, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but this entire library is filled to the brim with old books,” he quipped wittily.

And then finally, after what felt like aeons, she turned to look at him. Sebastian had to physically fight the smile that threatened to form on his face. Her attention was all too thrilling. 

Perhaps he would’ve been better off if she hadn’t looked at him. Then he wouldn’t have suffered the terribly ill fate of looking so bloody stupid. 

Unbothered, she coyly replied.

“Shrewd as ever, Mr. Sallow. They don’t call you the brightest wizard in Slytherin for nothing,”

Mr. Sallow. Oh, the way his name rolled off her tongue was much too lovely. 

“You do know that this means we could be looking for days? ”

“I never said it would be easy,” She said.

“You never said it would be impossible either,” He bantered. 

Their exchanges were never a song and dance. It was like fencing. Every quip a lunge, every retort an en garde. But that made him love it all the more.

“Well I thought you’d be up for the challenge. Hidden treasures tend to be - well, hidden.” She said with a hearty laugh.

And like kerosine to a flame, the sound made his chest swell.

“Who knew that you’d be sending me on an impossible goose chase,” Sebastian said with a dramatic sigh.

Not that he was complaining of course. Despite the niggling pit in his stomach that knew he couldn’t explain why - he revelled in every moment he was blessed to spend in her company.

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t even pretend like you don’t love it.” 

Okay, now the smile on his face was truly repulsive. His cheeks were getting sore. 

“Oh no, I absolutely adore it.”

She swatted him gently with the stray book in her hand. But soon enough (too soon), her attention went back to the task at hand. He could feel the pout growing on his face as he watched her bury her nose deep into another book. 

Sebastian genuinely tried to help. He truly did. But the moment something no longer amused him, he was a lost cause. And while he was only joking, he was starting to feel like maybe this was proving to be an impossible task.

So instead, he chose to spend his time observing her. Until something caught his eye. 

The edges of her school robes were… singed? The seams were frayed and burnt, which was odd. When did she manage that? He hadn’t noticed that earlier. 

“What happened to your robes?” He asked.

Unexpectedly, she stiffened and looked away, “I’d rather not say.”

Now his curiosity was truly peaked. What deviousness did she get up to in his absence? What schemes was she committing without him?

“Well now you absolutely have to say.” He said.

Sebastian detested secrets he was not privy to. Especially hers. With every ounce of charm his brown eyes could muster, he looked at her expectantly, imploring her to tell him. 

When her face turned a delightful shade of pink, he knew she had folded. Check and mate.

“Fine.” She conceded.

On the edge of his seat, he urged her to continue.

Hesitantly, she did, “…I had a rather unfortunate accident yesterday.”

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, “What did you do?”

“I might have… accidentally held my wand the wrong way round and confringoed myself in a duel with Clopton…”

Oh. Oh? Did he hear that right? 

Of all the things that she could’ve said, he was certainly not expecting that. He tried his best — he genuinely did — to not laugh. But he simply could not help himself from breaking into hounds of laughter. 

“Shut up!” She hissed, “It’s not funny Sallow.” 

As he wiped a stray tear from his eye, he quipped, “I beg to differ. It is actually very funny. I might have to rescind the title of best duellist in Hogwarts with that kind of shoddy wandwork.”

The glare on her face alone could’ve taken down trolls.

“Not even two rounds of washing got rid of the stench!” She yelled in whispers.

“I think that makes it objectively funnier.”

“You’re infuriating,” she huffed, “And I smell like burnt toast.”

He gave her a cheeky grin, “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m sure you smell fine. Lovely even. Let me see.”

“Hey, wait a minute—!”

Before the protests could leave her lips; before the rational part of his brain had time to think,  Sebastian moved towards her. Like lightning to the tallest peaks; like a comet caught in gravity's pull — he moved towards her.  

As he breathed into her, her breath hitched. 

Just as he had suspected, there was no hint of anything unpleasant. She smelled of mallowsweet and pine trees and warm fires. The mallowsweet she grew diligently in her garden. The early morning dew of pine trees from the forbidden forest. The crackle of her usual seat by the common room fireplace. 

If he could commit a scent to memory, Sebastian decided that this would be it. How was it possible that a smell could feel like home? What undiscovered sorcery was this? She didn’t smell like Feldcroft or the Undercroft — but it gripped onto him like a warm embrace that he yearned to always return to. 

It left him in such a daze that when she cleared her throat, it sounded miles away.

“...Sebastian?”

What was he doing again?

Right. He was reassuring her. That she was all good.

So how did he end up in the crook of her neck again? 

When he noticed how close he was to the delicate curve of her neck, he knew that he was in trouble. And he thought they were sitting in close proximity before. How in good conscience did he allow himself to get here?

Evidently, his conscience was not at all good and very much out to destroy him. 

When he finally gathered the nerve to bring his eyes to meet hers, he realised that she was looking directly at him. Her eyes were heavy with the weight of something indiscernible. Whatever it was, he couldn’t read it - but he could sense it was important. All of the sudden, the air in his lungs wasn't enough to keep him going. The words in his mouth wouldn’t form coherently.

Was it just him, or was the room spinning? 

Despite himself, he managed to get out in a whisper, “Just like I said. Sunshine and daisies.”

And more his traitorous mouth itched to confess.

Beneath lowered lashes, she replied barely above a whisper, “...thanks.” 

To his surprise, the look in her eyes turned bashful. Which was… something. In their time together, Sebastian had seen her embarrassed and flustered; but not once had he seen her bashful. Bashfulness was reserved for demure wallflowers and girlish first years. Not the hero of Hogwarts.

And in this moment, Sebastian cursed her for it.

Never in his 17 years of feeble existence had he seen anything so disgustingly disarming. And bloody hell, for the sake of his poor, erratic heart, he would need her to swear on Salazar to never ever, ever, ever ever look at him like that again — 

“Oh, hello friends!” 

Like a douse of cold water, a cheerful voice broke them out of their reverie, and suddenly they were scrambling apart. The air shifted. The tension dissipated. The scent of her no longer pervaded his senses. There was now (what felt like, at least to Sebastian) an astronomical distance between them. All that he had left to show for it was the stupid look on his face.

Sebastian felt like he was waking up from a fever dream. He didn’t know whether he wanted to jump for joy or throw up. Whether he was relieved or infuriated by the intrusion.

Who was it that intruded anyway?

“P-Poppy!” The girl beside him exclaimed, looking like a deer caught in headlights herself.

“Poppy.” Sebastian repeated, almost robotically.

Before them stood Poppy Sweeting, with a wide-eyed smile on her face. If she had noticed any tension between them, she didn’t mention it. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Poppy said, apologetically.

“Oh not at all!” His friend said hurriedly.

Sebastian begged to differ.

Poppy turned to address the girl wonder directly, “I was wondering if you had that magical creatures book? Natty and I were planning on visiting the fwoopers den up North, and I was hoping to bring it out with me today.”

Abruptly, she jumped from her seat and snapped her fingers in recollection.

“Oh! Right. I left it with Scribner at her desk. Let me go get it.” 

With rushed fervour, she stood up to go. Her hair and the folds of her skirt swayed hurriedly behind her. He watched with heavy eyes as she walked out of sight; as she robbed him of mallowsweet, pine trees and warm fires.

Now that she was gone — without rhyme or reason — his chest felt hollower. Why? Surely that lonely feeling that gripped his chest couldn’t have been from her absence. She would only be gone for a few minutes at most. What was he — a hapless puppy? 

Poppy’s bright voice broke him out of his trance.

“Sebastian, would you like to join us next time?”

His brain was still spiralling, so it took him a while to process the question. Or even realise that Poppy was speaking to him. But he managed to muster enough mental energy to reply.

“Oh me? Beasts watching?” He drawled absentmindedly, “Can’t say it’s really my thing.” 

Hippogriffs aside, he never really cared much for beasts no matter how mythical. And it wasn’t like he and Poppy Sweeting were particularly chummy either. 

Poppy nodded, “I figured as much. But our dear friend has recently been so terribly insistent on finding the snidgets before the poachers do—”

“Sounds just like her,” he interjected. It was valiant and righteous and just so bloody like her it made him want to scream. Just a tiny one, to help relieve the lingering warmth and tightness he felt in his traitorous chest.

Poppy continued, “—and I feel bad for taking up so much of her time. And seeing as you’re courting, I thought you might like to spend more time together.”

Sebastian stopped and his brain short circuited entirely.

What did she just say? Did Poppy Sweeting just say courting?

He swore he physically felt the neurons in his brain melt, “We’re not - I don’t - She —” Once again, Sebastian found his words failing him.

Poppy was looking at him expectantly, like an over-eager kneazle. But the weight of her expectation crushed him. After a few agonising moments of Sebastian completely butchering the English language, Poppy finally caught on. Sebastian’s words refused to cooperate, so he could only watch feebly as the gears seemed to finally turn in Poppy’s head.

“Oh!” She said in disbelief, “Sorry! I just thought, the way you were looking at her - and you looked so close that —”

Oh God. The way he was looking at her? Poppy Sweeting just basically implied that he was a hapless puppy. Obviously, Sebastian knew that the thoughts on his brain were a complete travesty — but he didn’t think he wore it on his face. 

Did he? Well apparently fucking so.

Sebastian was mortified. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly, “We’re just friends.”

A tentative pause filled the air. To his dismay, Poppy only dignified his response with a look of sheer disbelief. As if he’d grown two extra heads and still couldn’t find between them a single brain cell. 

Sebastian felt the urge to crawl into a Dugbog nest so he could be swallowed whole. If even Poppy Sweeting was questioning their relationship, then who else? Ominis he could handle. But the rest of the student body? He wouldn’t survive it. 

“Friends.” Poppy repeated the word painfully slow, as if tasting the word her tongue would help make it all make sense. Eventually, she nodded and said cryptically, “I see.” 

“Yes. Friends.” He repeated.

The cavern of lacewing flies that plagued him earlier returned, and they were back with a vengeance . It’s not like he was at all prudish. Let it be known that Sebastian Sallow was no stranger to a romantic dalliance or two (Third year was a whole thing, don’t ask). Flirting was his status quo, being charming came to him as easily as breathing. As naturally as a moth to a roaring open flame.  

But courting? Her? The very thought made his insides scream.

Poppy looked unsurely at him, as if she had much more to say (or protest even). But she kept her mouth shut to maintain the civility of it all, as if she decided that even one word more would likely fracture Sebastian’s thin semblance of normality. And Poppy didn’t want to be to blame for his pitiful unravelling. 

So they just sat in silence.

“Here you go Poppy!”

Eventually, when their friend returned, she was surprised to find both her friends sitting in complete silence. When she handed Poppy her book back, she was taken aback by the pitiful look in her eyes. And as if to apologise, (for what exactly she had no idea) Poppy gave her a soothing pat on the back. She said a quick thanks and left. 

The girl wonder turned to look at Sebastian curiously, but decided against prying. 

From the look on his face, she had a feeling that whatever it was, was better left alone. —— We love to see Sebastian flustered!!!

I have like little bits of all the chapter written out, and this took me way longer than I thought it would! Hopefully yall enjoy the pining and how in love Seb is <3

Thank you so so much for everyone who liked and reblogged, they really made my week! Also thank you @peterwandaparker @wt-fxck @pugsnotdrugs92 @ithinkweallsing For your lovely comments <3 This is a side blog so I can't reply but I'm soooo glad you guys like it!