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whizzing-fizzbee · 13 days ago

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I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (profanity, smut, adult themes), all characters are adults Words: 16,004 Themes: ex-lovers, rekindled romance, failed marriages, unhappy marriages, post-Hogwarts, adulthood, cheating, infidelity, jealousy, pregnancy, mild violence, language, smut, happy ending

Summary: You were supposed to be happily married to your handsome and successful husband. You most certainly were not supposed to think about your ex-boyfriend, Sebastian Sallow. After all, it's been five years since you broke up amid your graduation from Hogwarts. But when your husband surprises you with the announcement you're moving to Feldcroft, you despair over your new neighbors.

Notes: This was obviously inspired by Taylor Swift's "Fortnight." I debated with myself about including any smut with this, so I wrote it in such a way that you, the reader, can choose. Part I is the story. Part II is a smutty epilogue, which you can skip if you'd like. Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Part I: Turned Into Good Neighbors

“Darling? Are you home?”

You looked up from your novel at the sound of your husband’s voice calling from the kitchen. It was a quarter past 6 p.m. and you made a mental note that he was an hour late.

“In here,” you called, ensuring your tone didn’t expose your annoyance. He was a good man, you told yourself, and he worked long, hard hours to provide you with a nice life.

“Ah, there you are,” Oliver said as he appeared in the doorway. You smiled up at him as he approached to plant a kiss on your forehead, his usual greeting. The next step in this routine was for you to ask him how his day went, and then he’d sit down and tell you everything he did at work for the next 20 minutes.

But today was different, and while you usually welcomed change, this was a bigger surprise than you had bargained for.

“I have news,” Oliver declared. You decided his gaze looked more excited than concerned, so the tense manner in which your posture had straightened relaxed, but just slightly.

“News?” you repeated. “What is it?”

“I bought us a new cottage,” Oliver revealed excitedly. You couldn’t help but blink at him.

“A new cottage?”

“Yes, in a quaint little hamlet in the Highlands,” Oliver said. “Far away from the bustle of the city.”

“And we’re going to live there?” you asked.

“Aye, we are,” Oliver said. “I can simply floo to the Ministry for work every day. And we can apparate or floo back here to London any time we want.”

He spoke as if it were the most simple, obvious decision in the world, but your stomach twisted into knots.

“We’re moving to the Highlands,” you repeated. The faint twitch in Oliver’s jaw indicated he was growing annoyed with the way you were repeating his words, but you were having a difficult time processing such a significant revelation.

London had been your home for the past five years, two of which you spent living with Oliver in your home together. Though city living wasn’t your dream, you’d established your roots there with friends and a life that kept you occupied. The Scottish Highlands would be vastly different from this life, especially since you hadn’t been there since your Hogwarts days.

“Look, I know this is sudden and that I’ve surprised you,” Oliver said, his tone steady and gentle. “But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve always said London doesn’t suit you and that you miss the Highlands. Now’s our chance to take advantage of that. It’s a perfect opportunity.”

It was true, you missed the Highlands. They were nostalgic to you, a reminder of your years as a student. Your life had been defined and shaped by the adventures you had across the Highlands’ hamlets, the good and the bad. You missed the people, the peace, the picturesque landscape and the slower pace of it all.

But you hadn’t asked to move there. You didn’t tell your husband you were intent on leaving your perfectly content life to buy a new home and make new friends.

“The cottage is lovely,” Oliver continued boastfully. “Or at least it will be. I got a fantastic deal on it because it requires some minor repairs and renovations. We’ll be able to put our own personal touch on it.”

You didn’t want to fight with Oliver. Your marriage had been rocky, to put it lightly, and the two of you were presently in a good place. You hadn’t had a fight in weeks, and it made you hopeful that your turbulent days were behind you.

So in order to keep the peace, you flashed a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. After all, Oliver was the one working to create a life for you both, together.

“It sounds lovely,” you said. “Which hamlet is it?”

“A brilliant little place to the south of Hogwarts,” Oliver said proudly. “Feldcroft.”

One month later

The spring air felt clean and refreshing against your skin the moment you emerged from the floo flames. It was a stark contrast to the heavy, dirty London air that clouded your lungs and made your eyes occasionally burn.

It was new, yet so familiar, you instantly felt the memories beginning to stir. You gazed around the hamlet, which looked largely unchanged since the last time you visited years back. Some of the cottages looked older, worn by time and the harsh, salty sea air that carried in from the coast. Other buildings were new, including a row of three small shops that hadn’t been there before.

The wood lookout tower was still there, looking weathered and rickety now. The recollection of the first time you visited Feldcroft surged immediately.

You flew there from Hogwarts when you were fifteen on a quiet Saturday morning to visit your friend, Sebastian, and his sister, Anne. The events of that first day remained vivid, but not as sharp or as provoking as the events that occurred the last day you were there.

You could still remember the smell of the Feldcroft catacombs, damp and deadly. You could hear the raucous echoes of spells ricocheting off the walls, the hiss of the inferi that circled you, and the cries of despair when Anne Sallow found her uncle’s body. You could still see the blinding green light that erupted from Sebastian’s wand the moment he changed everything.

“Darling?”

Oliver’s voice yanked you from your memories. The thoughts had left you winded, your palms sweaty and your mouth dry.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, turning to meet Oliver’s concerned gaze.

“I said, are you ready? Our cottage is just this way.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Sorry, I was just… feeling nostalgic,” you laughed, flashing a smile for good measure.

“Ah, I’ll bet,” Oliver said as he offered you his arm to guide you through the hamlet. He began rattling off every fact he could find about Feldcroft and its history, as if you weren’t well versed in the events that had happened there during your teenage years, as if you didn’t have your own history with the town.

But as he rambled, you could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest as that particular cottage came into view. You swallowed as it drew nearer, your eyes scanning it carefully for signs of life.

It was mostly unchanged from the last time you saw it. Flower boxes hung from the windows now and you noticed a row of pink rose bushes in the front. There were new wood shutters flanking the windows and the door was painted a deep shade of green.

It looked lovely as ever, but the memories tied to it clouded your head with dread.

“Are- are we nearly there?” you asked, interrupting Oliver’s explanation of the hamlet’s first inhabitants.

“Just about,” he replied. “It’s just ahead, over there.”

Panic surged through your body, rising in your chest and blooming through your limbs as you realized how close you were coming to that cottage. Your feet suddenly felt as if they were carrying lead, the thud of each step reverberating in your brain.

“That one, right there,” Oliver said, gesturing toward your cottage as you passed the well at the center of town.

No. No way. Surely, not.

But Oliver steered you closer and closer until that cottage was in front of you. You passed it, your heart slamming in your chest as you snuck a glance toward the front window, before Oliver stopped outside the cottage next door.

“Here we are!” he said happily. “Home sweet home!”

You recognized this cottage, too. It belonged to a nice vendor named Bernard Ndiyae back when you were fifteen. It appeared worn down now, clearly having been vacant for years, but it looked cozy.

“Well?” Oliver’s voice said in your ear as you realized he had been watching you closely for a reaction. “What do you think?”

You made a careful point not to glance at the home next door, its rose bushes threatening you with thorns in spite of their beauty. Instead, you smiled up at Oliver and squeezed his hand.

“It’s perfect.”

---

The cottage certainly did need work, but thanks to some useful conjuration and transfiguration spells you learned from Professor Weasley, you had the house looking like a home in no time.

The fireplace now crackled with warmth thanks to repairs to the cracked chimney, the dusty wood floors were restored to a fresh gleam, and the kitchen was clean and functional.

You spent your first three days decidedly confined inside the cottage, working to put your own touches on the interior. It was necessary work, not just for the sake of your home, but for the preservation of your sanity.

You didn’t dare go outside. You didn’t even cast a peek out the window toward the next door neighbor’s house. Not until one morning, four days after you moved in, to begin your work on fixing the cottage’s exterior.

Oliver had taken a few days off from work to help with the house, which you appreciated. He had been putting in 10-hour work days, so you enjoyed his company while you had it.

That morning, he badgered you to join him outside so the two of you could decide what to do with the landscaping and garden, and what color to paint the front door. You begrudgingly agreed, blaming your allergies when Oliver called you out on your reluctance.

When you stepped outside, you couldn’t help but appreciate the warmth of the sunlight that seemed to breathe new life into you after spending days inside that dusty house.

But your euphoria was quickly quashed by the sound of splashing water.

“Oh! Hello!” a cheery voice said from the direction you had been desperate to avoid.

You held your breath as you turned to the source, your gaze falling on a pretty blonde woman who was watering the rose bushes in front of thatcottage. She appeared to be about your same age, though she was noticeably shorter and very pregnant.

“Hello,” Oliver said, making long, quick strides toward the short fence separating your homes as he kept one hand gently placed at the small of your back.

“Welcome!” the woman said, the high pitch of her voice already grating on your nerves. She smiled warmly at you, but something about her gaze unsettled you. “We were wondering when we’d get to meet our new neighbors. I’m Wendy.”

You and Oliver introduced yourselves as Wendy finished watering her roses. “I’m afraid my husband’s at work,” Wendy continued. “But you’ll meet him soon enough.”

Soon enough. You couldn’t be certain, but somehow you just knew you wouldn’t need an introduction.

“Have you lived here long?” you asked carefully.

“Oh, I’ve only lived here for a couple of years, since we got married,” Wendy explained. “But my husband has lived here since he was a boy. He inherited the cottage from his late uncle.”

The air immediately left your lungs and you began racking your brain for any excuse to retreat inside your cottage and never leave again. Better yet, an excuse to leave Feldcroft and never return again.

Instead, Oliver took control of the conversation to sing Feldcroft’s places and to dote his historical knowledge on Wendy, who appeared too polite to not listen.

How could this possibly happen? How did you end up back here, in this hamlet where your history was tainted by some of your worst memories? How did you end up living next door to the boy who had dragged you to Hell and back, only to clip your wings when you thought you’d reached Heaven? Most important, how were you ever going to possibly face him again?

It would be inevitable and anything but easy. It never was with him.

“You two will have to come over for dinner soon,” Wendy continued. “Sebastian would love to meet you.”

There it was. That name. His name. It wasn’t easy to hear it five years ago and it wasn’t easy now. Sure, you’d moved on and were perfectly content with the life you’d built with the husband you loved, but the past, those memories, still twisted your stomach into knots that left you winded.

There was something about the notion that he had moved on too that produced a pang in your chest that left you stricken by guilt and shame. Of course he moved on. He was the one who ended things with you, citing your different paths in life as you prepared for your futures outside of Hogwarts. That reason hadn’t been good enough for you, but you knew holding a grudge against your teenage boyfriend was senseless and unbecoming.

Now, you’d be living next door to him and his beautiful wife who seemed to radiate in ways you never could. Of course he found someone who was the epitome of human sunshine, a staggering contradiction to you. You were intense, prone to moody bouts of cynicism and warring convictions. You weren’t the type to light up a room or charm your way into the hearts of all who crossed your path. You were a lot, yet it seemed Sebastian had found someone who managed to be much more, but in all the right ways.

But propriety was important and you had a husband who was trying to make you happy. He bought you this cottage with the hope of returning you to a world you once loved, though you knew it was also his ploy to silence all of your recent arguments.

So instead of hexing Wendy Sallow into the next century, you forced a kind smile.

“That’d be lovely,” you said, your voice taking on a sickly sweet pitch of too much enthusiasm. “Please let me know if I can bring anything.”

“Wonderful,” Wendy cooed. “Well, I should get inside. Time to start working on dinner.”

She bid you farewell and you watched as she retreated inside that cottage that had once welcomed you. Even several months pregnant, she moved with a level of dainty grace that made your lip curl. You wanted to drown her in a lake.

“Well, she seems nice,” Oliver commented once she was gone. You nodded silently. “It’s nice to know our neighbors are friendly people. Perhaps we’ll be able to get to know them more.”

“Perhaps,” you said, praying your steady tone would drown out the silent screams ringing inside your skull.

---

Despite the tension you felt every time you stepped outside your cottage, you couldn’t help but ease into a comforting routine in Feldcroft. It was peaceful there, and the inhabitants lived at a much more pleasant pace than bustling London. You liked it there, but you also hadn’t run into the reason you’d avoided the hamlet in the first place.

One morning, you visited the store to pick up some items for dinner while Oliver was at work. It was warm outside and you enjoyed a slow stroll home with your groceries, the scent of spring easing your posture.

As you reached your front door, you fumbled in your pockets for your keys when a familiar voice greeted you.

“Hello.”

You froze. Did he realize it was you? Was there time to scurry inside your cottage before he figured it out? Perhaps you could apparate on the spot and never return.

It was all so deranged. You were a hero at one point in your life. You saved Hogwarts during a goblin rebellion, not to mention the countless creatures you freed from poachers and the dark wizards you defeated. You were anything but a coward, but one stupid man made you that way.

Slowly, you lifted your head to turn and meet his gaze. He froze, too, as you watched the recognition settle in his eyes.

“Hello, Sebastian,” you said quietly. There was no edge to your tone, nor was there any fondness. You were simply greeting him as cordial neighbors do.

If you hadn’t been wondering if you were going to be sick on your own front steps, you might have actually taken glee in Sebastian’s reaction. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, the color drained from his freckled cheeks as he struggled for words.

“I… you… It’s you,” he finally managed. You pressed your tongue into the roof of your mouth to stifle a snort. How very unromantic it all felt after all these years – you, fumbling your house keys and Sebastian, void of any coherent sentences. The two of you seemed as awkward and unrefined as your 15-year-old selves.

“It’s me,” you replied, and you couldn’t help but offer him a smile.

You knew this moment was coming, so you had spent the past week mentally preparing for it. You vowed to endure it with dignity. No hard feelings, no familiar longing or spite. You were going to handle it with class and poise, the way you always took care of business. That’s all this was anyway, right? It wasn’t personal. You and Sebastian hadn’t been personal in years. You were neighbors now, and neighborly relations could be handled as strictly business.

You tried not to stare too long. He was still youthful, but his boyish features had sharpened into handsome angles. You could see traces of stubble casting a faint shadow along his jawline, which was more defined. His skin remained freckled and his hair was still disheveled, an indication that the same Sebastian still lingered inside him.

“You’re my new neighbor?” he asked, still looking alarmed.

“I’m afraid so.”

An anguishing silence fell between you, but you were determined to force him to speak first. Maybe it was immature and petty, but you had decided to let Sebastian determine how far your new relationship as neighbors would go.

“My wife… my wife told me she met the new neighbors but she didn’t mention names,” Sebastian continued. “She didn’t mention it was anyone I knew.”

“I figured I’d let you decide if she needed to know that information,” you said simply. It was true. It wasn’t your place to reveal your past with Sebastian. He should be the one to tell Wendy, if he even wanted to. “If you’d rather pretend we’ve only just met, I’ll fully understand,” you added.

Sebastian couldn’t begin to compute how to relay your connection to Wendy – he was still stuck on the fact you were even there in the first place.

“How… why…” he started. Even after all these years, you could read him.

“My husband,” you answered without waiting on him to ask questions. “He bought this cottage without telling me. Wanted to get out of London. I had no idea until he brought me here.”

Sebastian didn’t respond as he mulled over your words, clearly unsure of what to say. His eyes were determinedly avoiding you, as if looking at you would expose all your shared secrets to everyone in Feldcroft.

“Your wife is lovely,” you offered in an attempt to facilitate the conversation.

“Oh. Yes, she is,” Sebastian mumbled stupidly.

“When is your baby due?”

“Two months.”

“Is it your first child?”

“Yes.”

Another silence emerged and you couldn’t help but eye Sebastian with the faintest air of amusement. The Sebastian you had known could rarely keep his mouth shut. This Sebastian seemed unable to speak in complete sentences.

“Look,” you said, your tone shifting to something much more pointed and serious. “I know this is bizarre. Believe me, I would never have agreed to move here had I known. But maybe we can both just pretend like the past doesn’t exist and get a fresh start.” Sebastian frowned but said nothing in protest, so you continued. “My husband doesn’t know anything about us - our past. He only knows that I used to spend time in Feldcroft during my Hogwarts days. We don’t have to tell them. We can be strangers turned neighbors.”

Still no response from Sebastian. His abnormal silence was making you nervous, yet annoyed. After all this time and all he had put you through, surely the least he could do was acknowledge your words with civility.

Finally, his eyes met yours, though they were difficult to read.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, sending you deeper into your unsettled state. “I-I’ve always wondered how you were doing, how you ended up.”

You weren’t prepared for that. Though he was likely just being polite, you hadn’t expected him to admit to thinking about you.

“I’m doing just fine,” you said, unsure who you were trying to convince. “Looks like you are as well.”

Sebastian nodded carefully. “You said you came from London. Are you… did you end up becoming an auror?”

The question was innocent enough, but it made your stomach twist and your eyes drop to the ground in shame. “No,” you said, taking care to keep your tone neutral. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? I remember you wanting to be a curse breaker.”

Sebastian nodded. “I was in Egypt for a year, now I travel for work, mostly curse breaking cases within a hundred-mile radius.”

Despite your past differences and old wounds, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for him. He had been so remorseful for the mistakes he made during your fifth year, you were happy to see his success in spite of it all.

“And Anne?”

“She’s still with us,” Sebastian said with a faint smile. “She lives at a care facility owned and operated by St. Mungo’s. They keep her comfortable there and she’s made good friends.”

“And Ominis?”

“Still the same old Ominis.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your mutual friend. “He works at the Ministry. Part of the Wizengamot.”

“Ominis, a purveyor of justice? How original,” you quipped.

Sebastian barked a laugh, the sound beckoning you with nostalgia. “I reckon Ominis felt the need to make up for… well, you know,” he said.

Of course you knew. You and Ominis covered for Sebastian when he killed his uncle. It was you who had convinced Ominis not to turn Sebastian in, and Ominis in turn convinced Anne to protect her brother.

“Good for him,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Ominis Gaunt sitting in court. It certainly suited him. It also made you miss him.

You had tried to maintain your friendship with Ominis beyond your seventh year, but it became collateral damage as your turbulent relationship with Sebastian splintered.

“Your husband,” Sebastian finally said. “Is… is he home?”

“Oliver. His name is Oliver. He’s at work,” you answered. “He works for the Ministry as well. In the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Sebastian tilted his head. “I’m surprised Wendy didn’t recognize him,” he said. “She works at the Ministry as a receptionist, though she mainly just sees Ministry visitors, not employees.”

“Oliver comes and goes a lot,” you said with a shrug. “They have him traveling quite a bit.”

“Makes sense.”

You could feel the conversation reaching a conclusion, or at least you hoped that was the case. Sebastian’s eyes continued to linger on you and you prayed he blamed your red cheeks on the sun.

When several moments ticked by with no spoken words, you cleared your throat.

“Well, I’d better get this food inside,” you said, hoping your tone sounded more pleasant than nauseous.

“Right.” Sebastian shifted from one foot to the other, his hands shoved inside his pockets. “Er, I’ll see you around then.”

“Sure, see you around, Sebastian. It was, um, nice to meet you.”

“Right. Nice to meet you, too.”

Once you were inside your cottage, you slammed the door shut, your back pressed against it to catch your breath, your satchel of groceries forgotten on the floor.

Seeing him shouldn’t affect you like this. You were married. He was married. You shouldn’t feel a thing toward him, not after five years and the pain he inflicted on you during your breakup.

You should hate him.

By the time Oliver arrived home, you were in a sour mood, annoyed he was late again and mentally drained from your reunion with Sebastian. The dinner you made had grown cold from waiting for Oliver, leaving you to pick at your plate void of any appetite.

Oliver could sense the tension but tactfully chose to keep to himself. After dinner, he retired to his office to read, leaving you to clear the table.

What you really needed was to clear your mind.

Still fuming over Oliver’s tardiness, you flicked your wand to send the dinner dishes sailing toward the sink where they clattered audibly. Without acknowledging your husband, you pulled a sweater on and slipped outside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet creak.

You knew exactly where you were headed. It was the same place you and Sebastian frequented as teenagers to watch the stars when you were bored at night. You climbed the lookout tower, only slightly wary of the way it creaked and groaned beneath your footsteps to the top. When you reached it, you froze.

“Sebastian?”

“Heard you coming,” he replied. “Thought it might be you.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll go-”

“Stay,” he said quietly. “I assume you need to clear your mind about something. That’s the only reason anyone comes up here anymore.”

“I… yeah,” was all you could manage.

Sebastian gestured to a wood crate that sat opposite him. Years earlier, the two of you would sit on the floor of the tower, your legs dangling over the ledge as you gazed across the Feldcroft region’s landscape.

Your eyes scanned the view for the first time in years. Dusk was darkening the sky, but the scene appeared mostly unchanged. It comforted you, despite the unsettling company sitting across from you.

Neither of you said anything at first. What could you possibly say? You squirmed in your seat, silently willing Sebastian to be the first to break the silence. It was torture, because you wanted to be angry at him; instead, you were merely desperate to talk to him.

“What are you really doing here?” he finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Did your husband really just surprise you with a cottage in Feldcroft and force you to pack up and move here?”

You frowned at him, anxious that he might believe that you moved there for him. But you were also afraid to tell him the truth, to spill your personal troubles so quickly after your reunion.

“He really did,” you sighed. “But I suspect he has ulterior motives than simply trying to make me happy.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to frown. “Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do – make his wife happy?”

“Is that what you do?”

“Of course.”

How lucky for Wendy.

“Well, I suppose he just wanted an escape from London,” you finally said with a shrug, prompting another lengthy silence.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Sebastian suddenly said. When you looked up, you noticed he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, his eyes had fallen on something distant, likely nothing in particular at all.

“Trust me, neither can I,” you breathed with a faint chuckle.

“I can’t believe it’s already been five years since we graduated and since we... broke up.”

“Feels like yesterday in many ways, yet also feels like a lifetime ago,” you said simply.

Sebastian finally turned his gaze to you, studying you with a curiosity that made you straighten your posture and hold your breath.

“So what have you been up to then?” he asked. “You mentioned you’re not an auror, so what are you?”

Your face fell. How could you possibly answer that with any dignity? The truth was shameful and, knowing Sebastian, he’d be disappointed in you. But you married Oliver, not Sebastian, and your husband’s opinion mattered more.

“I’m… not much of anything,” you finally admitted. There was no use lying to Sebastian. “I don’t work. Oliver takes care of me.” Sebastian hummed a response that ignited your defenses. “What?” you demanded rather sharply.

“Nothing,” Sebastian replied simply. “I’m just surprised, is all. You never struck me as the housewife type.”

“And why not?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Sebastian chuckled. “Wendy’s probably going to quit her reception job and stay home once the baby arrives. The hours can be erratic and she doesn't like the work. It’s just… you always struck me as being different.”

“Different how?”

Sebastian shrugged. “You were the only person I’d ever met who was more stubborn and daring than me,” he answered. “You were always off on some adventure, saving or helping someone in need. You could never sit still and relax. You were always keen to use your magic for good. Just surprises me to hear you prefer to stay home.”

You bit your tongue. It wasn’t that you preferred to be a housewife. You wanted to become an auror, to do exactly what Sebastian had said - to use your ancient magic for good and to prevent more dark wizards from hurting anyone else. You had been well on your way, too. The Ministry had accepted your application to its auror division, but then you met Oliver.

Oliver preferred you to stay home and allow him to take care of you. He promised you invitations to elite social events and that you’d never have to worry about finances, not that you cared about those things. When you told him you wanted to work, he gave you an ultimatum, and you were in no place to turn down such a favorable marriage prospect.

You’d be more willing to stay home if you had children to take care of, but it wasn’t until after your wedding that Oliver made it clear he wasn’t interested in starting a family. You were crushed by the revelation, but clung to hope that someday he’d change his mind.

“Staying home just works better for Oliver and me,” you said quietly. You were afraid to meet Sebastian’s gaze, because you knew he’d see through that excuse. That was the terrifying, yet thrilling part of being near Sebastian – he read you like the hundreds of books in his collection.

“But you’d rather be working,” Sebastian said carefully.

“Of course. You can take the woman from the duel, but you can’t take the duel out of the woman.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk. Merlin, that smirk was still there and it still made your insides melt.

“Why don’t you tell him you want to work?” he asked.

“Why don’t you mind your business?” you retorted. Your eyes widened the moment the words left your lips. Horrified at your lapse in decorum, you hastily apologized.

But this was Sebastian, and he knew your true wit and grit better than anyone. He barked a laugh. “I knew that scrappy spirit was still in there somewhere,” he said, his tone carrying an old fondness that made your heart ache.

But you couldn’t allow Sebastian to reel you back in, even if he wasn’t trying to do so. He had hurt you and you’d likely never forget it.

Sure, you recovered from the heartbreak, but you still remembered the way it made you feel. That memory dictated every relationship you had since Sebastian, including your decision to marry Oliver. You chose the safe bet, the one that wouldn’t make you feel that level of heartache ever again.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snapped. “At least not anymore.”

Sebastian flinched at your tone. “I suppose that’s true,” he said with a frown. “And I suppose I deserve your hostility.”

“I’m not hostile-”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian cut you off with the wave of a hand. “I know I didn’t treat you all that great back then. I messed up bad and I’ve never forgiven myself for it.”

You paused, taken aback by his vulnerable admission. You hadn’t expected that from him, not when you’d only reconnected hours ago. You had assumed he had spent the past five years without giving you another thought.

“It’s not something worth fretting over,” you finally said, hoping your tone was gentler. “I mean, it all worked out in the end for the both of us, right?”

“Right,” Sebastian agreed, his eyes returning to the distant landscape. “But still, you didn’t deserve the way I treated you, or the way I broke things off.”

“Sebastian, we were eighteen,” you said, your lighthearted tone betraying the hurt you’d carried inside your chest for five years. “We were both young and dumb. A relationship like that was always going to be fleeting.”

“Still, I’ve never felt good about how we left things and I’m sorry for it. I've missed you terribly.”

It felt like something in the atmosphere had shifted, like that apology had been the missing piece to the puzzle of your past five years. But the weight that should have lifted off your shoulders pressed down harder when Sebastian’s gaze met yours again. His apology should have set you free with closure and loosened the ties that bound you to your past. Instead, it made you long for it.

“You don’t need to apologize, but I appreciate it,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile. “And I must say, this is the strangest second chance fate has ever handed me.”

“Too true,” Sebastian laughed. “It’d be a shame to waste it.”

You swallowed, willing yourself to have the strength to forgive Sebastian and the resolve to allow him back into your life, even just as your next door neighbor.

“Then we won’t,” you said confidently. “It would be nice to have a friend in Feldcroft… again.”

Sebastian’s signature smirk returned as he appeared relieved by the olive branch you’d extended. “Hopefully this time around we’ll have a little less death and destruction.”

“Oh, where’s the fun in that?” you teased. “What’s a few more ruined lives?”

---

In the weeks that followed, you and Oliver settled nicely into life in Feldcroft. You found ways to keep yourself busy while he was at work and the other villagers eventually grew to recognize and greet you as one of their own.

You also became friendly with Sebastian and Wendy, though the sight of them together made your eyes darken and your stomach lurch.

You came to understand their routine, too. Sebastian would disappear for work, sometimes for several days at a time, leaving Wendy to tend to the cottage and water her stupid rose bushes when she returned home from work in the evenings. Sometimes she'd stop you for a chat, asking you about your day. You couldn't help but feel judged for the way you'd tell her about your trips to the store or the long walks you'd take. You wondered if she judged you for being a housewife, though she never made any disparaging remarks. Still, it made you want to poison her stupid rose bushes.

It wasn’t fair, the way you longed for her demise, and you knew it. Wendy seemed like a perfectly nice woman who had simply been lucky enough to win Sebastian over. The important thing was that she made Sebastian happy, or so you assumed. You couldn’t imagine they’d be expecting a child together if they were unhappy.

But one evening, your curiosity piqued as you left your cottage for the produce stand on the edge of town. As you locked the door, the sounds of shouts echoed from Sebastian’s home. You froze, your ears focused on the voices. One was clearly Wendy’s, the other’s presumably Sebastian’s. You didn’t want to eavesdrop, but you also wanted to ensure no one was in danger.

Quietly, you lingered beside Wendy’s stupid rose bush, your ears still straining to listen. Wendy’s anger was evident in the shrill pitch of her voice, but you couldn’t make out all the words – just something along the lines of, “What kind of father…”

No. You shook your head and forced yourself to continue your route to the shop. Sebastian and Wendy’s disagreements were none of your business.

But as you reached the path that connected your cottage to the remainder of the town, the sharp bang of a slamming door made you jump. You spun and spotted Sebastian storming out of his cottage, his expression contorted in frustration. He froze when he spotted you, his posture becoming less rigid.

You cursed under your breath as Sebastian approached. Should you admit you’d overheard anything? Should you play dumb? Would he think you were eavesdropping on purpose?

“Need some company?” he asked.

“Oh. I- er… sure. I was just walking to the produce stand. Need some carrots,” you replied. Sebastian merely nodded, his jawline looking taut as he gestured for you to continue walking.

“So I suppose you couldn’t help but overhear all that,” he said as he fell into step next to you.

“Sebastian, it’s none of my business-”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian continued. “We just argue like that sometimes. I say something stupid that Wendy doesn’t like and it escalates into a shouting match.”

“You, say something stupid? Never.” You cast a nervous glance at Sebastian, hoping your jest didn’t upset him more. His lips curved into a small smile.

“I guess you’ve been in Wendy’s shoes a few times, haven’t you? And I was the one who put you there,” he said quietly.

“Sebastian, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I just…” he sighed, his eyes shifting upward as if the answers to his problems were spelled in the sky. “I just wish Wendy understood my past.”

“Does she know… about Solomon?” you asked carefully. Sebastian shook his head.

“No. She only knows he died when I was fifteen.”

“Oh.”

“She doesn’t understand why…” Sebastian squeezed his eyes closed for a fleeting moment, willing the words to surface. “She doesn’t understand why I’m afraid to be a father.”

You let his statement settle before you gazed at him with empathy. “Does she know about your parents?” you asked.

“Yes. She knows. Honestly, my frustration with her isn’t even her lack of understanding, considering she doesn’t know how or why Solomon died. It’s more about the hostility she shows when I try to discuss it with her. She becomes so angry and says hurtful things. It’s like she cares more about becoming a mother than she does having a happy family.”

You didn’t want to take sides in an argument that had nothing to do with you, especially when you knew one party much better than the other. But you couldn’t help but sympathize with Sebastian's situation.

Of course he was fearful about being a parent. His own died, leaving him and Anne behind at an age too young to fend for themselves. They’d left him with Solomon, a man too angry and bitter about his own life to properly care for two children. Then Anne was cursed, leaving Sebastian as the only person willing to fight for her.

Then there was Sebastian’s dark past. Though he’d worked hard to right his wrongdoings, you knew he was still bothered by them, still fearful of the sinister acts he was capable of.

Sebastian’s hesitations were fair and you understand why he had them.

“Sebastian, you’re going to be an amazing dad,” you said assuredly. “I know your past has you scared, but you aren’t that person anymore. You can’t punish yourself forever. You deserve a good life, and so do your children.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course.” You turned your head to look him in the eye to emphasize your sincerity. “Sebastian, despite your past – and ours – you’ve always been one of the best men I know. You might be stubborn as hell, but you’re also fiercely loyal. You’re smart when you aren’t impulsive, and your intentions are always noble. You'll be a tremendous father.”

Sebastian nodded quietly as he considered your words. He wasn’t surprised you understood his concerns. You always understood.

“I just don’t want to let anymore people down,” he said quietly.

“You won’t,” you said confidently. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, which is going to make you a great father.”

“Thank you,” he said as the two of you reached the produce cart. “For being understanding about everything. You’re the last person who should have anything nice to say about me.”

“Sebastian, we were teenagers,” you said as you tossed a bundle of carrots into your basket.

“But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“A favor?” You couldn’t help but snort as you paid the shopkeeper. “How was breaking up with me a favor?”

“I guess I was still punishing myself,” Sebastian replied. “I knew you were destined to do great things in a society full of lofty expectations. I thought being tied to me would bring you down.”

“A lot of good that did me,” you said, forcing an ironic laugh.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Sebastian said quietly.

You offered him a sad smile and a gentle touch to the forearm. “It’s okay,” you said with certainty. “All water under the bridge.”

Sebastian nodded in appreciation as the two of you headed back toward your homes.

“So what about you and Oliver?” he asked. “Do the two of you plan on having children?”

You pursed your lips, unsure of how to answer. But given how Sebastian had just opened up to you about his marriage, you decided you could do the same.

“It’s complicated,” you started. You could feel Sebastian’s eyes drift toward you with curiosity. “Oliver doesn’t want children. I didn’t know that when we got married and I haven’t been successful in changing his mind.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, his voice tinged with sadness. “You’d be a wonderful mother.”

“It’s okay. I’m starting to accept it,” you said with a shrug. You didn't dare allow Sebastian to see the tears that welled in your eyes.

As you neared your cottages, Sebastian heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose I’d better go accept my punishment,” he said, his voice laced with bitterness. He rested a gentle hand on your shoulder that lingered for a fleeting second. “Thank you for… you know.”

You nodded in quiet, mutual understanding and offered him an encouraging smile. “Anytime.”

In the weeks that followed, Oliver’s absence became more prominent. The previous hour or so he’d turn up late after work had stretched into several hours. Once or twice, he failed to come at all and claimed he was called away on last-minute business, or was simply too exhausted and had slept in his office at the Ministry.

You had no proof, but you knew better. Your instincts told you he was with someone else, but you had no means of confirmation. Yet despite your nagging concerns over your husband’s whereabouts, your mind was more occupied with the man living next door.

Your evening rendezvous on the lookout tower with Sebastian became a frequent occurrence. When he was home and Wendy had fallen asleep, the two of you would sit on the tower together. Sometimes you’d chat the entire time, reminiscing about your Hogwarts days. Other times, you’d sit in silence for stretches and merely appreciate each other’s presence. It was nice to have a friend, even if that friend had a wife you wished would fall into a sinkhole.

One evening, you sat alone on the tower, wondering where your husband was this time. He should have been home three hours ago and you hadn’t received a word from him.

The familiar sound of Sebastian’s tread carried up the tower’s steps and you straightened in your seat as he emerged at the top, his hands stuff casually in his pockets.

“There you are,” you greeted.

“There you are.”

Typically, your mutual greeting made you smile, but Oliver’s antics weighed heavy in your chest as you wondered what to do about him. Though you had come to accept his infidelities, you weren’t sure how to confront him without proof, and you didn’t know what that would mean for your future.

You weren’t scared of the shame that would accompany a failed marriage – your reputation had been dragged around your entire life and you knew you’d recover. But Oliver and his rules had made it so you weren’t financially independent. Without him, you’d have no home, and you had no job to earn your own income. He had made it so that you needed him.

Sebastian recognized your tense demeanor immediately. “Something wrong?” he asked, peering downward at you in concern.

You swallowed, unsure how to reply. Sure, Sebastian was your friend again. He’d been your only friend since you moved to Feldcroft. But you weren’t sure you should reveal the latest details of your troubled marriage with him. Was it appropriate? Did he even care? Were you crossing a line?

“I’m fine,” you answered with a shrug. “Just tired is all.”

“Liar.”

You looked up in surprise. He looked concerned, yet you could see the faintest trace of smugness. He could still see through you and it was clear he enjoyed it.

That was the toughest and easiest part of your relationship with Sebastian, even after all these years. You couldn’t keep secrets because the two of you could read each other in ways no one else could.

You heaved a sigh as you tried to decide which detail to reveal first. Sebastian seemed to understand you were struggling, so he took a seat on the crate across from you and waited patiently.

“It’s Oliver,” you started. You paused, waiting for Sebastian to interject with some kind of snarky remark, but he remained quiet, nodding at you to continue. “He’s been… pretty absent lately. He gets home from work hours late, or sometimes he doesn’t come home at all.”

“You think he has someone else,” Sebastian said blankly.

“I don’t have proof.”

“You’re sure he isn’t simply putting extra hours in at work? Wendy does that for the extra pay. Says we could use it when the baby arrives.”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t prove anything. All I have is my gut instinct.”

“And what is your instinct telling you?”

“That something isn’t right.”

Sebastian sat back, his hands resting on his knees as he considered his words carefully. “Is there a specific person in mind?” he asked. “Do you know who the other woman might be?”

“No idea. Outside of his family and me, Oliver doesn’t really spend time with anyone else. Most of his friends are through work and I don’t really know most of them.”

Sebastian exhaled slowly through his nose. You were surprised by the way his jaw seemed to twitch, a familiar tell that signaled he was trying to suppress his rage.

“You don’t deserve that,” Sebastian said quietly, his eyes wandering toward the sky that was shifting to nighttime.

“I don’t know, maybe I do,” you admitted. “It’s not like I married Oliver because he’s the love of my life. Maybe this is payback for that.”

“Why did you marry him then?” Sebastian asked sharply.

“Because he was safe,” you answered. “And because I lost my way. I lost myself when I met him. I had grown so used to taking care of myself that I thought I wanted someone to take care of me for a change. Oliver takes care of me, even if I’m not the only woman in his life. He’ll always come back to me.”

“You deserve to be the only woman in his life. And you deserve to be with someone you genuinely love,” Sebastian said quietly.

“I guess I just didn’t get that lucky."

The revelation was a sad truth you had never admitted out loud. You were grateful for the things you had, but many people mistook your life for something glamorous. They deemed you lucky – you were born with a rare, powerful ancient magic. You were declared a hero by your school, your name famous to all who passed through Hogwarts. You married a respected man with money so that you didn’t have to work.

Nevermind the omnipresent burden you had carried since the day you learned of Isidora Morganach and the repository. Nevermind the way people stared and whispered when they recognized you. Nevermind your loveless marriage that isolated you from the friends and career you wanted. Nevermind the fact your neighbor was the only person you ever loved.

To everyone else, you had it good. For all you cared, your life peaked years ago.

Sebastian was looking at you with a deep frown, an expression you chalked up to pity.

“So what are you going to do?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know,” was the best you could offer. “He’s made me too dependent on him to leave him. I don’t have a job. I’d have nothing, nowhere to go. I’d have to start all over.”

“Would a fresh start be all that bad?”

It was a simple question, but the answer felt heavy. It was true, you only stayed with Oliver for the convenience. The two of you were compatible enough for a pleasant relationship, but you certainly didn’t feel any overwhelming love and adoration for him.

Leaving Oliver could lead you to someone you did love properly, and vice versa. Perhaps you could start a career and build a life you felt proud of. But leaving Oliver could also mean something much worse, and being with him wasn’t the most miserable life you could dream up.

“I don’t have any proof that he’s having an affair,” you repeated. “And I can’t just leave him without reason.”

“You aren’t happy,” Sebastian pointed out. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

You wanted to agree with him. You wanted to put yourself first and give yourself the opportunity for the life you wanted – even if the one you’d always envisioned included the man sitting across from you. But you knew simply wanting a better life wasn’t enough. There were rules and expectations in your society. Leaving your husband simply due to unhappiness would blacklist you immediately. Though you didn’t care about the parties and decorum, a tarnished reputation could make life miserable. A proper divorce would require a legitimate reason.

“I’d need to catch him cheating,” you said. “I’d need a valid excuse for divorce.”

“So then let’s catch him.”

“What? How?”

“We follow him,” Sebastian said simply.

“Sebastian,” you said, your tone laced with warning and hesitation. It felt eerily reminiscent of your Hogwarts days, particularly your fifth year when the two of you were prone to risky adventures and questionable decisions. “We can’t just stalk my husband in hopes of catching him in the act.”

“Why not? We’ve done it before.”

“That was when we were children.” You couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “It was unwise tracking poachers and Ranrok’s loyalists then, and it’d be unwise tracking my cheating husband now."

“So you’re just going to sit back and do nothing, let him get away with it while you pine for the life you deserve?” Sebastian asked, his tone reflecting his obvious irritation. “You really have changed.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re backing down from a challenge,” Sebastian said. He leaned back on the crate with his arms crossed. “And worse, you’re backing down from standing for what’s right.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it? Because the version of you I used to know never would have sat in silence when faced with injustice. Even when I killed Solomon, you only decided to protect me because of Anne.”

“I protected you because I loved you.” The words left your lips before you could think better of it, and you bit the inside of your cheek in instant regret. Sebastian failed to maintain a stoic expression, frowning as the statement stirred more guilt inside him.

The comfortable bond the two of you had built over the past few weeks was compromised as the silence that fell between you felt somber.

After several moments of internal struggle, Sebastian sighed and leaned forward on the crate, his elbows resting on his knees.

“All I’m saying,” he finally started, “Is that I’ve seen you fight some of the most dangerous people and creatures on Earth. I’ve seen you keep your composure and resolve under unfathomable circumstances, and you never took the easy way out by compromising your morals. You’ve done immeasurable things for other people out of love, but that should include yourself, too.”

“Even if I wanted to end things with Oliver and catch him cheating, I can’t exactly just cast disillusionment charm and expect to trail him around the Ministry all day,” you said.

“You’re right, you can’t,” Sebastian agreed. “Good thing I have a better idea.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” you muttered. It was the following morning and you were standing in Sebastian’s cottage as he rummaged through a trunk in his bedroom. As he searched, your eyes drifted around the room.

It was different from the last time you were there. There was much more decor, surely Wendy’s doing. A coat rack in the corner held a pink sweater that you decided was ugly before Sebastian's voice pulled you from your judgmental musings.

“Ah, here it is,” he said, pulling a shimmering cloak from the trunk. “Haven’t needed it in quite some time.”

“And where did you get an invisibility cloak anyway?” you demanded.

“Found it on one of my work assignments,” Sebastian said proudly. He pulled the trunk around his body so that only his head remained in view. “See? Much better than any disillusionment spell.”

“And you expect to just trail Oliver around the Ministry all day while we huddle beneath that cloak?”

“Of course not. We’ll hide in his office and wait until the end of the work day, see where he goes.”

“And how do you expect to get inside his office? We can’t just waltz into the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

“Good thing we know someone else who works at the Ministry,” Sebastian said smugly.

“Oh Sebastian, we can’t drag Wendy into this-”

“Not Wendy,” Sebastian cut in. “I’ve not said a word to her. She’s been too stressed to think straight lately, with the baby coming.”

“Who then?”

Sebastian smiled at you. “You’ll see.”

You and Sebastian waited until noon to apparate to the Ministry to ensure you’d arrived while Wendy was on her lunch break. Once you were past the reception desk, you stepped into the lift and Sebastian led you to Basement Level II.

“Department of Magical Law Enforcement?” you hissed as you stepped off the lift. “Sebastian, what are we doing here? What are you going to do, have Oliver arrested?”

“Believe me, if infidelity were a crime, I would.” He glanced at his pocketwatch before leading you toward an inconspicuous door at the end of the corridor, guiding you inside.

“Sebastian, this is a broom closet. What the hell-”

“You’ll see.”

“It’s dark and it smells in here. I-” The door swung open and you froze as you took in the newcomer’s appearance. “Ominis?”

Your former friend looked amused. “The two of you hiding away inside a broom closet. It really is like old times,” he said. Sebastian ushered him inside and shut the door with a quiet snap as you blushed. “I should have known it would be some precarious, covert mission that would reunite the two of you.”

You threw your arms around him in a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

Ominis hugged you back, pulling away to smile at you. “While I’m also thrilled for this reunion, I must say, the circumstances are concerning – again, not that I’m surprised given that it concerns you two,” he said.

“Sebastian didn’t give you the details?”

“Sebastian, provide details before doing something potentially stupid and risky? Have you forgotten the past?”

You laughed, relieved that Ominis hadn’t changed, before you launched into an explanation of why you were currently hiding in a broom closet inside the Ministry of Magic with your two former closest friends. When your explanation was complete, Ominis’ expression was ambiguous.

He heaved a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You don’t deserve that,” Ominis said with an air of sadness. “I’ve run into Oliver a few times for work purposes and I never found him as charismatic or astute as he seems to think he is. You deserve better than him." You opened your mouth to respond, but Ominis continued, his expression shifting to something more serious. “You two do realize this is utterly insane,” he said. You and Sebastian swapped a glance but said nothing. “I could jeopardize my standing with the Wizengamot if anyone finds out I helped you two sneak into Oliver’s office.”

“Which is why no one’s going to find out,” Sebastian said simply.

Ominis sighed and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all. You and Sebastian, tasking a reluctant Ominis to help you carry out a daring task that could get all three of you into trouble...

“Just like old times,” Sebastian quipped, as if he could read your mind.

“All right,” Ominis said. “You have the cloak?”

“I do.”

“Well put it on then. I’ll show you where to go and get you into Oliver’s office, but consider my involvement complete after that,” Ominis said.

“Yes, sir.” Sebastian draped the cloak around himself and then motioned for you to step closer. You froze. You hadn’t been that close to Sebastian in years. Ominis quirked an eyebrow as if he could sense your discomfort but said nothing.

You moved closer to Sebastian and he draped the cloak around you. The proximity made you tense, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as the scent of Sebastian’s cologne found you.

Fearful Sebastian would hear your heavy breaths, you kept your jaw clenched as Ominis swung the closet door open.

Once certain no one else was in sight, Ominis strolled toward the lift, where you and Sebastian squeezed into a corner to avoid detection by its other occupants. As more wizards and witches filed in, Sebastian pressed up against you, the two of you so close you could feel his chest heaving. His frame felt much sturdier than his teenage self and it made you want to snake your arms around him, to feel how much he had changed with the palms of your hands.

Once the lift reached Basement Level 5, Ominis strode to the corridor that led to the Department of International Cooperation’s International Magical Trading Standards Body offices, where Oliver worked.

Ominis offered polite greetings to passerby until he reached a row of doors. He glanced around to see if anyone was nearby, but the department was largely vacant due to the lunch hour. He knocked gently on the second door and waited until he was sure no one was inside to answer it. He cracked open the door just wide enough for you and Sebastian to file inside.

“Oliver, you in here?” Ominis called out as he stuck his head inside the office for good measure. He paused to give you and Sebastian time to slip inside before he muttered, “Must be at lunch. I’ll come back later.”

The door snapped shut and you and Sebastian exhaled a simultaneous breath. “We did it,” Sebastian said.

“Yes, but now we have to wait,” you said. “Perhaps we should sit in that corner, there. I doubt anyone would venture over there. We can sit comfortably and stay hidden beneath the cloak.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you retreated to the corner of the room where you sat on the floor, your backs against the walls.

You took a moment to gaze around Oliver’s office. You’d never been there before, but it appeared to be an accurate reflection of him. A stately chesterfield sofa sat against the wall, a stack of books neatly placed on the table next to it. Various quidditch team pennants hung neatly on the walls and Oliver’s school quidditch trophies gleamed on the top shelf of a bookcase.

Sitting on the corner of Oliver’s desk was a single frame that contained a portrait of you.

You studied the photo of yourself, watching the woman in the frame wave and flash a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

The adrenaline rush of sneaking through the halls of the Ministry of Magic was suddenly replaced by a surge of sadness as you remembered why you were there to begin with.

Oliver wasn’t the love of your life. After two years of marriage, you merely tolerated him most days, maybe liked him on your best days. Losing him wouldn’t destroy you – not in the way losing Sebastian did. But still, Oliver was your husband, and you’d be a liar to deny the hurt his infidelity would cause.

Sebastian stirred next to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered how the teenage version of him couldn’t sit still for too long without fidgeting.

“So tell me,” you said quietly, keeping your eyes on the door for any sign of movement. “What name do you have picked out for the baby?”

“Well, if it’s a boy, he’s got to be Sebastian Jr.”

“Then let’s hope it’s not a boy,” you quipped, drawing a grin from Sebastian.

“And if it’s a girl… I’m not sure. Wendy and I are sort of at odds over the name.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, she likes the name Doris,” Sebastian said. “Which is a fine name and all, but I’d like to name her some iteration of Anne. Maybe Anne-Marie.”

“Of course,” you smiled. “Anne’s perfect.”

“The truth is, I’m not sure how much longer Anne has left,” Sebastian said, his expression becoming serious. “The curse has really worn her down in the last five years. She’s so frail now, and she just doesn’t have the same fiery spirit. She’s tired of fighting.”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“She’ll keep fighting as long as she can, because that’s who she is, but I can tell it’s wearing on her.”

“She’s one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. And probably the only person more stubborn than you,” you said with a sad smile. “I’m sure she’d love to have a little niece with her namesake. And I’m sure any kid of yours will be just as gutsy as Anne is.”

“You’re damn right,” Sebastian said proudly.

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the hum of the Ministry's offices echoing to fill the space. You thought about how bizarre your current scenario was. A few months ago, you’d have thought you’d gone mad if you had told yourself you were going to reunite with Sebastian Sallow and sneak through the Ministry of Magic to stalk your potentially cheating husband.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you said softly. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, you know that. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean we stopped being kindred spirits.”

His words made your chest contort. Even when he belonged to someone else, even when he was set to start a family with her, he still cared about you. It would have been beautiful if it wasn’t quite so heartbreaking.

“I’m glad such a bizarre twist of fate made us neighbors,” you managed with a soft laugh.

“Indeed. Life wasn’t the same without you.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” you laughed again. “Though it was much more stable and my stress levels dropped considerably.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying life was boring without me,” Sebastian mused. “Though I could say the same.” He cast a sideways glance at you, studying your expression from the corner of his eye for a moment. “My biggest regret in life is walking away from you, you know.”

Your chest caved at his statement and you swallowed, praying he couldn’t hear the way your heart threatened to hammer itself out of your chest. Part of you wanted Sebastian to continue spilling his innermost thoughts, to learn more about how he felt about you; the other part wanted him to shut the fuck up before he broke your heart all over again.

You dared to tilt your head to look at him and were surprised to find he was looking directly at you, too. You wondered if the sadness in his gaze mirrored your own, but you said nothing. Instead, you could feel him breathing as your treasonous mind made you wonder how it would feel to kiss him again.

You determinedly averted your eyes from his lips, refusing to reveal what was on your mind. You held Sebastian’s gaze as long as you could, as if his thoughts might permeate your own if you looked hard enough. You could see the familiar traces of affection in his eyes that once overwhelmed you with love.

But before any more thoughts could be expressed, the doorknob twisted. You and Sebastian both straightened, your eyes darting to the door as you held your breath. It was still 20 minutes until 1 p.m., meaning Oliver was returning from lunch early.

He strolled in with an aggravated expression that made you frown in confusion. But the answer revealed itself sooner than you ever could have imagined.

The clack of heels on the stone floor echoed their way toward the office, indicating a woman was close behind him. Your gaze darkened as you prepared yourself for the woman who was likely your rival.

You weren’t prepared to see Wendy Sallow.

Sebastian tensed immediately next to you, so you did the only thing that calmed him back when you were teenagers. You placed a gentle hand on top of his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze, silently begging him not to act. His breath hitched and you clenched your jaw.

“Oliver, we’re running out of time,” Wendy said with a frustrated tone. Oliver shot her a sharp glare and waved his wand, the door swinging shut with a firm snap.

“I’m aware of that,” Oliver replied curtly, gesturing toward Wendy’s pregnant stomach. “But I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“You said you were going to leave her.”

“I said I’d consider it, and in due time,” Oliver responded irritably. “I didn’t say I’d do it so soon. And I certainly didn’t expect you to end up pregnant.”

“Well, this baby should be all the reason you need,” Wendy said. “You promised you’d take care of me – and our child.”

The room seemed to tilt, Oliver and Wendy’s bickering becoming a low background whir that your brain threatened to tune out as the reality of the situation unraveled itself at the expense of your nervous system. Your chest felt so tight, you wondered if you were suffering from cardiac arrest, and you suddenly felt so hot, you were certain the building was on fire.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was rigid next to you. Your heart dropped as the reality sank in. Sebastian would walk away from this moment with more scars than you. You had entered that office prepared to learn of your spouse’s infidelities, but Sebastian hadn’t. He was supposed to be the innocent, third party in all of this.

You realized you had to keep your composure in order for Sebastian to keep his. You had to silently convince him to control his emotions before he gave you both away.

The hand that rested atop his knee found his hand instead. You gripped it tightly, squeezing hard to send the message. You didn’t dare glance at Sebastian, fearful that doing so might evoke his rage, or your tears.

“And I will take care of you, darling,” Oliver said, crossing the office to place his hands on both sides of Wendy’s waist. “And our child.” He placed a gentle hand on Wendy’s stomach and you started to feel nauseous.

For two years, Oliver refused to father a child with you, and you were his wife . He had given you a barrage of excuses, claiming he wanted your attention all to himself, or that children were a tremendous financial burden.

This was an act of betrayal beyond any pain you’d ever felt. Worst of all, Sebastian had to share in it. Even now, all these years later when the two of you had built separate lives, your pain was mutual. It was beginning to feel like you and Sebastian were linked for life.

Suddenly, you let out a quiet gasp as you felt it. All of the fury and pain inside of you had clashed and boiled. It was currently coursing through your veins in the form of your ancient magic.

You could feel the familiar tingle rush through your fingertips and you dug your nails into the back of Sebastian’s hand to send him a warning. He cast a sideways glance at you and understood what was happening. He'd seen it before. He shifted, reaching in his pocket for his wand to ready himself. Though you could control your ancient magic, you couldn’t hide it, and anyone in your vicinity would be able to feel it.

The room’s atmosphere began to shift, the air becoming heavy as your ancient magic rolled through it. The background sounds of conversation, footsteps and rustling parchment fizzled as the hum of your magic swelled. Oliver and Wendy both froze as they felt it, the hairs on their arms standing upright.

Your magic caused the invisibility cloak to flutter, its fabric dancing in the sunlight that drifted through the window curtains. It was enough to catch Oliver’s eye and you watched as his hand disappeared into his robes. He sent a basic cast toward your corner that narrowly missed your head.

You and Sebastian dove in separate directions, the cloak falling to a pile on the floor. The room grew quiet as Oliver and Wendy watched in shock while you and Sebastian climbed to your feet.

“What in Merlin’s name-” Oliver started.

“Sebastian?” Wendy gasped.

Sebastian didn’t speak, a rare change in his usual demeanor, but the severity of his gaze was perilous. His chest heaved and his fingers gripped his wand so tight, his knuckles were white.

“How long?” you finally asked, shifting your gaze to Oliver who still looked stunned. “How long have the two of you…”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Oliver demanded.

“Sebastian, love, it’s not what it looks like,” Wendy interjected. She moved toward Sebastian, her hands outstretched and her doe eyes wide as they silently pleaded with him.

“Don’t,” was all Sebastian said, his voice steady but quiet.

Wendy whimpered. If you hadn’t been so furious, you might have laughed at her.

“How did you get in here?” Oliver continued. “How long have you been here? Were you following me?”

“I said, how long have the two of you been doing this?” you repeated.

Oliver appeared to be searching his mind for explanations, but he knew you were too smart to entertain any of them.

“Darling,” he started. “It’s not what you think. It’s much more complicated-”

“I think you’ve been having an affair for quite some time,” you said. “But I didn’t expect it to be with our neighbor.” Your ancient magic surrounded you with a blue haze as you glared at Oliver. “Is that why you moved us to Feldcroft? So you could be closer to her? So that you could see your child?”

“How do you know it’s his?” Sebastian suddenly asked, his gaze on Wendy. “How can you be sure it’s not mine?”

“Sebastian-” Wendy started, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“Answer me.”

Wendy recoiled, her heels clicking on the stone floors as she lingered next to Oliver. “I’m sure,” she squeaked. “It happened when you were away… in Portugal. I know it’s his because you and I hadn’t-” She let out a sob that made you flinch.

“So this has been going on for months,” you said blankly. “And what were you two going to do when the baby arrived?” You turned on Wendy, your glare brimming with disgust. “Were you just going to allow Sebastian to believe it’s his?”

“I…” Wendy’s sniffled. “Oliver said he was going to be with me. I was going to tell Sebastian then.” Her eyes pleaded with Sebastian. “I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I just… Oliver said he would take care of me. I just wanted to be taken care of.”

It was a jarring realization for you. The life you had grown to detest was the life Wendy wanted. You dreamed of a career, a husband who understood you and a family to call your own. Wendy wanted to stay home and be doted over. It was as if the two of you had ended up in the other’s fairytale.

The hurt in Sebastian’s eyes broke your heart. You hated how unfair life had been to him. Dead parents, a cursed sister, a cruel uncle who never wanted him. Sebastian had worked hard to make up for his past, but now life had betrayed him with an unfaithful wife and a child that wasn’t his.

“I don’t understand,” you finally said, frowning as you tried to make sense of the entire situation. “There were nights… times when you’d come home late, Oliver. But Wendy… I’d see you at home with Sebastian.”

Oliver and Wendy swapped a glance and your braced yourself for more bad news.

“Our townhome in London…” Oliver said. “I… I didn’t actually sell it. It’s still mine. Sometimes I’d stay there after we… I just couldn’t face you, darling.”

“Couldn’t face me,” you repeated blankly. “So you could have an affair with another woman – our neighbor – but couldn’t come home and look me in the eye when you were done fucking her?”

“Oh, don’t act so innocent,” Wendy spat. You flinched at her sudden outburst, her tone reaching a new shrill. “I’ve seen you and Sebastian sneaking away to have private little conversations about your past. Don’t think I didn’t know about the two of you. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at each other, like two lovesick puppies.”

“Nothing has happened between us since we were eighteen,” you said, glaring at Wendy. “Sebastian has always been faithful to you.”

Wendy forced a laugh. “Sebastian hasn’t touched me since you moved next door,” she said. “At first I thought it was because of my pregnancy, but then I saw the way he’d look at you, the way he’d rather spend time with you. It was never about me. It was always you.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak but Oliver cut him off.

“I know all about you, Sallow,” Oliver said. “Your dead parents and shamed uncle who was ousted by the Ministry. Your cursed sister stuck in St. Mungo’s. You can’t give your wife a life worth anything.”

The entire time, you had been worried for the way Sebastian might act. You didn’t consider your own reaction. But your ancient magic surged again, ignited by Oliver’s harsh words toward Sebastian, sparking a sudden crackle over the room you couldn’t control.

Oliver recoiled at the sound, mistaking it for an attack from Sebastian. He hit Sebastian with a basic cast, which sent him backward.

“Oliver!” you hissed, moving to check on Sebastian, who scrambled to his feet. Before you could beg him to refrain, Sebastian retaliated with Diffindo. Oliver spun from the red flash that sliced toward him, but it nicked him across the torso while Wendy let out a scream.

The conversation was over. It was now going to end in a duel and a peculiar twist of fate, with you and Sebastian against your husband.

Sebastian cast a barrage of spells at Oliver that sent parchment and paperwork flying. Oliver managed a Protego charm, its rebound causing the spells to ricochet throughout the office. One skimmed the top of Oliver’s desk, sending its content scattering, while another careened into the bookcase, smashing his trophies. Your eyes shifted to Wendy, who continued to scream. You refused to attack a pregnant woman, but pointed your wand at her in case she dared to attack Sebastian.

“Go,” you ordered. “Get the fuck out of here and stay away from Sebastian. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

She blinked in disbelief, but scurried for the door, the clack of her heels echoing until the sound faded down the corridor. Oliver had moved toward the door to follow her, but Sebastian remained on him, his force of spells driving him backward into the hall.

“Sebastian!” you shouted, following after them. “Sebastian, stop! We’re in the Ministry. The aurors will be on you in a heartbeat.”

He didn’t listen. You watched as he sent a Confringo spell at Oliver, which deflected into a row of desks, setting them ablaze. A handful of workers who had returned from lunch were backed up against the dark stone walls, their eyes wide as they took in the scene.

“Sebastian, you can’t!” you begged. “Think of Anne. Think of Ominis… think of me.”

You don’t know what made you say it. After all, you and Sebastian had only reconnected recently. He had been the one who left you five years ago, so you didn’t know why you thought he’d care about you now.

But he was here with you. He’d been the one to plan this entire day and help you get answers about Oliver long before he had any idea his own wife was involved.

Sebastian paused for a fleeting moment, his eyes drifting to you with understanding. Time seemed to slow when your gazes locked and you begged Sebastian with your eyes to come to his senses.

His pause gave Oliver just enough time to react.

“Incarcerous!” Ropes shot from Oliver’s wand, whipping through the air until they coiled tightly around Sebastian. He fell over, writhing on the floor as he struggled against them.

And before you could stop to reflect, your ancient magic acted on your behalf. You didn’t need your wand as the blue static enveloped you, illuminating your frame. One dismissive flick of your hand blasted Oliver backward until his body skidded across the floor against the far wall in a heap.

Your eyes scanned the room for any more potential threats, but you noticed it had cleared out. You turned to Sebastian and waved your hand again, the ropes disintegrating as you knelt next to him.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You stared at one another, unsure what to say or what to do next. “We should go,” you finally said.

“Right.” You helped Sebastian to his feet and he cleared his throat. The awkward tension wasn’t lost on either of you, but Sebastian took your hand and apparated, leaving the Ministry behind with a sharp crack.

Eighteen months later

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You froze in your tracks, a tiny smile forming across your lips before you turned to face your husband.

“I was just going out front,” you said innocently. “The daylilies need watering.”

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest,” Sebastian said, his arms folded across his chest as if he were stern with you.

“I’m fine,” you groaned. “The doctor told me to take it easy. I’m simply tending to my garden, not dueling any poachers.”

“You’re nine months pregnant. You need to stay off your feet.”

“I’m going to hex you off your feet if you don’t back off.”

Sebastian smirked and took a step toward you. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude that got you pregnant in the first place.” He reached for your arm and gently tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you despite your large belly keeping you separate.

“Just let me water the daylilies first.”

Sebastian relented and followed you outside, where you used Aguamenti to water the bright flowers you had planted to replace the rose bushes. You smiled to yourself as you let the peaceful scene settle around you. You’d picked daylilies for their resilience – beautiful, yet tough as nails and difficult to kill. They were a symbolic reflection of both you and Sebastian, as well as your relationship.

You moved into Sebastian’s cottage shortly after your divorce with Oliver was finalized. Your relationship didn’t rekindle immediately after that day you discovered Oliver and Wendy’s affair at the Ministry of Magic. You hadn’t expected it to.

Instead, you and Sebastian both needed time to heal from your broken marriages. You recovered quicker, given that your marriage had been built on convenience, but Sebastian needed more time to grieve. Not only had he been betrayed by his wife, he had to accept her child was never his.

You were patient with Sebastian, careful to give him all the time he needed to mend. Though you were hopeful time would heal the wounds and bring you two together again, you made sure to keep your proper distance.

Eventually, you and Sebastian fell into a comfortable routine. Ominis introduced you to the head of the Ministry’s Auror Division, which eventually led to a spot with the Muggle Prime Minister’s security detail. Sebastian helped you regain your strength and skills as the two of you sparred in friendly duels in a fields west of Feldcroft. You finally had started the career you wanted with hopes you’d someday advance from protecting the prime minister to hunting down and catching dark wizards.

You and Sebastian spent your evenings talking quietly, cozied up next to the fire. You’d lounge on the sofa and he’d sit opposite of you in an armchair, both of your noses in books. But eventually, Sebastian began to join you on the sofa, sitting next to you every night until you felt comfortable resting your head on his shoulder. Other times, he’d stretch out with his head in your lap.

Finally, the traces of pain left his eyes and he returned to his normal self. He had also filed for divorce and Wendy agreed without another word. The last you heard, she and Oliver moved into your old townhouse together and she gave birth to a baby girl she named Doris.

Your closeness with Sebastian returned with a blend of nostalgia and unfamiliarity. You joked and teased just like you did as teenagers, but your romance carried a new level of trust that surprised you. Sebastian broke your heart once, but the pain and anger you carried was long gone. Now, it was replaced with the mutual understanding that you and Sebastian had been given a second chance you both refused to ruin.

You fell in love again slowly, then all at once. You and Sebastian had gotten married a year ago.

Now, Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, smiling gently as he watched you quietly. You pretended not to notice at first, until you flicked your wand toward him to spray him with water.

“You little-”

You laughed as he lunged for you, pinning your arms behind your back so that you’d drop your wand. It clattered on the stone pathway and rolled toward the cottage next door. You and Sebastian watched in silence until it came to a stop a few feet from the house. Lights were on inside and you could hear laughter from the family who had moved in a few months back. They were an older couple with a pair of twins who attended Hogwarts.

“Not thinking about leaving me for the neighbor, are you?” Sebastian murmured in your ear. He stood behind you, pressed against your back so that he could place his hands on your pregnant belly.

“Hmm, not sure he’s my type,” you mused.

“Good. Because I’ve killed before and I’d do it again. Wendy didn’t deserve it, but you – I’d kill for you.”

“Sebastian!” You whirled around to scold him and he laughed, gently pulling you close again so that he could press a kiss to your forehead. You continued to glower at him until he bent down to retrieve your wand from the ground.

“You know,” he said as he steered you past the daylilies and back toward your cottage. “I never liked those roses anyway.”

Part II: There We Were Forever

(Smut warning - minors DNI)

One year later

“Is she asleep?”

You nodded quietly as you joined Sebastian in the kitchen to help him finish clearing the dinner dishes.

“She’s out,” you said, waving your wand to send a stack of dishes toward the cupboard. You slowed your motion, moving your wand with precision until the plates settled with a quiet clink. “She was exhausted.”

“Good.” Sebastian tossed a dish rag on the counter and moved toward you, his hands resting on the small of your back as he kissed your temple. “I bet you’re exhausted too.”

You nodded. Motherhood was the toughest task you had ever faced, but you couldn’t be happier. Your 1-year-old daughter, Anne Marie, was your proudest accomplishment.

“I’ll finish cleaning up,” Sebastian said. “You go relax.”

You smiled in gratitude and retreated to the sofa by the fireplace. It crackled quietly as you sank into the cozy cushions and closed your eyes. A gentle smile rested across your lips as you silently appreciated the moment. Just three years ago, you were still married to Oliver, trapped in a life you didn’t want. Now, you were happy and full of appreciation for all the moments – the good and bad – that had led you to this point.

Your eyes remained closed but you could sense motion nearby as Sebastian settled in beside you, his arm draping gently around your shoulders.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he mumbled in your ear before he nuzzled your neck. He left a trail of kisses from your collarbone, up your neck, to the soft patch of skin behind your ear.

Sleep sounded positively blissful, but not nearly as blissful as whatever it was Sebastian had in mind.

You tilted your head to the side to allow Sebastian more access to your neck. You could feel him smirk against your skin as he shifted his body to face you better, one hand resting atop your thigh.

He kissed you as if his lips were searching for something rare, though he’d kissed you like that just hours earlier before he left for work. Those same lips had spent the early hours of the morning between your thighs, ensuring you’d relax a little before your daughter awoke for the day.

Now, Sebastian’s hand inched higher beneath the hem of your dress, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across your skin as he continued to kiss you.

Your own hands gripped the front of Sebastian’s shirt, balling and tightening the white fabric in your fists to emphasize the sinful thoughts escalating inside your mind.

A whimper escaped your throat as Sebastian’s fingertips brushed against your panties covering your core. He shifted again until you were on your back, your head on the armrest on the couch as he loomed over you.

He had you in a similar position in bed this morning, and the memory of it made you shift your hips as the familiar ache of lust swelled between your legs.

Sebastian’s fingers dragged against your panties again until you felt them inch to your hips, curling around the waistband on your side. He guided them downward, tossing them lazily on the floor as he returned his eyes to you.

Your own gaze fell to the bulge in his pants, which had the fabric so taut, it looked painful. You bit your lip as you eyed it, picturing Sebastian’s full, unclothed length in your mind despite having seen it countless times.

You suddenly felt guilty as you remembered that Sebastian had only serviced you that morning. He had helped you achieve your own release – twice – but Anne Marie’s wails from across the hall interrupted you before you could return the favor.

Despite the positively anguishing ache that was coursing between your thighs, you started to sit up to take control. But Sebastian was in no mood for a fight.

“Bad idea, love,” he purred as he gently pushed your shoulder back down. You narrowed your eyes in protest, provoking a wolfish grin from him.

His hand snapped back to your entrance, and before you could protest, a finger was edging its way inside you. The best you could manage was a moan.

“That’s better,” Sebastian cooed as he slipped another finger inside. He pumped his hand, the friction of his calloused skin stimulating pure bliss against your slick interior in sweeping motions. “Just relax, my love. You deserve some rest.”

Sebastian used his thumb to drag circles over your clit as his index and middle fingers glided in and out of your entrance. You pushed back with your hips, guiding your most sensitive spot over his fingertips. He curled his fingers and you gasped at the welcome, warming sensation building there.

A few twists of his fingers and just the right amount of pressure from Sebastian’s thumb nudged you over the edge. A loud moan echoed through the living room as your walls clenched around Sebastian’s fingers, which continued their beckoning motion inside of you as they worked through your orgasm. They sank back inside of you, pressing into your soft core until your body relaxed around them.

His fingers were slick as he removed them to suck on them, his eyes dark with satisfaction at your submissive state.

“Now it’s my turn,” Sebastian said, sitting back as he unbuttoned his shirt. You used the time it took him to undress to catch your breath. Your eyes roamed his bare chest until he began kicking off his trousers, the sudden sight of his erection reenergizing your tired body.

It was an erotic vision that prompted your filthiest thoughts as all you could picture was the way you would stretch around him until he fucked you so hard, your knees collapsed.

You couldn’t believe you ever allowed yourself to tolerate another man.

“Come here,” Sebastian growled as he settled upright at the center of the sofa. You straddled his lap, using the scant remnants of self-control that remained to slowly ease yourself around his cock. Sebastian’s head fell backward to rest against the back of the sofa, his eyes falling shut at the sensation of your cunt surrounding him. “Going to reward me for my generosity this morning?” he asked.

You hummed a reply as you lifted your hips slowly, delighted by the sensation of your folds dragging along Sebastian’s length as you worked up and down with deliberation.

You leaned back slightly and Sebastian’s eyes fell open to gaze at you. He frowned as he realized you were still in your dress.

“This needs to go,” he said as his hands searched for the hem. Once he found it, he helped you yank the dress over your head until it heaped on the floor in one fluid swish of fabric. “Much better,” Sebastian mewed as his eyes fell to your breasts. He groaned in pleasure as they bounced when you sank downward again, his cock filling you entirely.

As you continued to lean backward, your fingers gripping the back of the sofa for leverage, the angle made your eyes roll back as you concentrated on the feeling of Sebastian’s tip plunging inside of you, pressing against that same spot that would make your toes curl.

"You're too fucking good at this," Sebastian hissed.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed as you could feel the familiar uprise of another orgasm. Its threat surfaced quickly and you had a momentary, fleeting thought of using a silencing charm the next time you decided to let Sebastian ruin you in the living room. That thought was interrupted by the eruption of pleasure that made your cunt contract.

"I'm coming," you whined as you sank down once more, Sebastian's cock slamming into your sweet spot.

Your hips drove downward, settling in place as your walls quivered around Sebastian’s cock. He held still to allow you to ride it out, your wetness trickling to the base of his shaft.

“So fucking good,” he groaned as he felt your orgasm subside. “You always feel fucking incredible.”

By now, you were reaching the point that lay beyond exhaustion. Your legs felt weak from riding Sebastian so hard and your head felt hazy, but you’d be damned if you walked away again without feeling Sebastian’s sweet release.

“Let me up,” Sebastian said, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to gently pull you backward. You obliged, praying your knees wouldn’t give out as you stood.

“On your knees,” Sebastian ordered as he gently nudged you toward the sofa. You obeyed, your knees sinking into the cushions as you leaned forward against the sofa back, your hands clutching it in anticipation. You felt Sebastian kneel behind you, his own knees settling between your spread legs.

He rested one hand on your waist as the other wrapped around his cock to ease it back inside of you. Your cunt accommodated him with less resistance this time, but Sebastian grunted at the tight heat that swallowed his cock.

“Like it when I take you from behind?” he murmured against the back of your neck.

“Yes,” you breathed as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Want me to make you come again?”

“Yes.” You whimpered to emphasize your greedy desperation. Sebastian made you come twice that morning and twice now this evening, but the feeling of your cunt stretched around his hard length made it difficult for you to think rationally. “Sebastian,” you whined at his lack of movement. You bucked your hips backward, drawing a resounding moan from him.

“Just like that love,” he breathed.

You ground yourself backward, Sebastian’s cock burying itself inside you repeatedly, the sounds of slapping skin clapping across the room. Sebastian’s grip on your hips tightened until his primal instincts overpowered him.

He thrust himself hard against you, his fingers sinking into your flesh to leave inevitable bruises.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he drove himself harder inside you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sofa, your cunt gripping at Sebastian in an attempt to stir up one more orgasm.

Sebastian’s cock pounded against your sensitive spot and you cried out in encouragement, pleading with him to grant you the privilege of one more moment of euphoria.

“Come for me,” he commanded. You moaned in response to indicate how close you were, rocking your hips backward to meet Sebastian’s rhythm. His thrusts became more erratic, an obvious sign he was nearing his peak.

“Right there,” you managed as you squeezed your eyes shut, every ounce of your focus on the building sensation. Almost there. A few more strokes should do it…

The pleasure made your thighs shake as you released a breathy cry that was followed by the sounds of Sebastian’s thrusts fucking you to completion. The orgasm erupted in forceful waves that fluttered through your walls until you collapsed over the back of the sofa.

The sight of your satisfied, fucked out frame was Sebastian’s ultimate climax. He grunted as he thrusted hard and held you flush against himself while he spilled inside you. You couldn’t help but release one final moan at the sensation of his heat pooling within your cunt until he pulled away. It dripped from you, cascading down your thighs as you feebly straightened to your feet.

Sebastian’s arms were around you instantly, pulling you close as he held you quietly, both of your panting the only sound in the cottage. You slumped against him, sleepy and sweaty, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I can’t believe we didn’t wake the baby,” Sebastian mused softly.

Your eyes opened and drifted over the scene of your sins. “I can’t believe we ruined the sofa,” you frowned.

Sebastian barked a laugh and pulled you in close again, your head resting against his chest. “Wendy picked that out years ago. I never liked it anyway.”

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iatnen · 2 months ago

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Finally….. I finished it…..

Second chapter of Birds of a Feather posted 🫡

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

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I would know him blind

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?” *** You'd been with Ominis for some time, and as much as you loved your intimate times together, you wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes for a change. Your darling husband is more than happy to help you satiate your curiosity.

Word count: 4.6k

Tags: p n v sex, bondage, blindfolds, light bdsm, light dom/sub undertones, pet names, praise kink, ownership kink, corruption kink (just a lil bit), possessive!ominis, cunnilingus, established relationship, body worship, romantic sex

You loved your husband more than anything in this world. You had been with Ominis since your sixth year of Hogwarts, and even now, ten years later, you were still as thick as thieves. He supported your desire to teach at the school, even though you would be gone for days at a time and away from his comforting arms, and in turn you supported him and his work as an inventor, no matter how much time he spent locked away in his office. Through it all, you were a team. It was a truly happy marriage, one you would be perfectly content in until your dying day.

That being said, there were some aspects of your life that had gotten a bit…stale. Being together for so long led to some challenges with keeping things interesting. In this particular instance, your more intimate times were starting to become lackluster. It was still lovely whenever you two got together, but you longed for your husband to do something surprising. Ever since your first night together it had been the same routine, and you were, quite frankly, bored.

Not that you’d ever tell him that. Godrick’s heart!

Being a professor had its perks, one of which being access to the restricted section of the library at any hour of the day. No student is going to question a professor as to why they are out at such an hour, it would be absolutely balmy. Not that you didn’t miss the chaos of sneaking down there with one particular Sallow twin, but it was certainly nice to not fear the appearance of Peeves around any and all corners. On the nights that you slept at the castle, you’d been reading up on some things in the restricted section, and had learned some interesting changes to try in the bedroom that would hopefully intrigue the blond. Rather shockingly, the “Intimate Literature” section was…extensive. There were things in some of those books that you would have never thought of, even in your most raunchy dreams.

One particular thing caught your attention, both for the possibilities it held but also for the fact that it had been something you thought about before: seeing in the way that Ominis sees. The Gaunt man’s blindness was never a hindrance to him, nor to you, but it definitely intrigued you. Around the house, he mainly saw through his enchanted wand, the location charm showing him shapes and outlines so he is able to get to and fro. But in the bedroom, Ominis preferred to use his hands, and sometimes his mouth, to find his way up and down your body. His favorite pastime was finding out what made you tick, what made you whine, what made you scream— always the tinkerer, always curious.

As much as you loved him touching you, you wanted to know what it felt like when you touched him; no sight to help him know from what direction you were coming from or what you were going to do to him. One simple finger running down his chest would send his heart aflutter under your palm— your legs brushing against his would make him breathe heavy like you had taken all the air from his lungs. He once described it to you as feeling everything the earth could possibly give you but so much more. It looked electric, and Merlin, you wanted to be shocked all over.

So, the only logical way for this to happen was for you to be blindfolded.

All you had to do was convince your husband, and you knew exactly how to do it.

The always busy blond was locked away in his office when you enacted your plan. You knocked gently on the door, waiting patiently for his word to enter. Upon his muffled, “come in” sauntered into the room, your steps precise and your hips swaying like a dancer. He sensed something different in your posture right away, his ears perking up slightly as he took in the soft cadence of your steps. Leaning back in his office chair and silently activating his location charm, he watched you stalk closer to his desk like a lioness on the prowl. You were the picture of innocence— a slight hop in your step and your arms folded behind your back like a schoolgirl, and in that moment Ominis wanted nothing more than to pin you over his lap and corrupt you for hours. A wayward smirk stretched across his face as he twirled his wand between his fingers, his free hand coming up from his arm rest when you got close enough and running across the skin of your thigh. The blond’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the feeling of the lace trim of your negligee, and his fingers tightened against your pillowy flesh, pushing the skirt upwards with intrigue until your hand stopped him in his tracks. You smirked deviously at the success of your plan so far before climbing into his lap, pressing all of your weight down on his already half-stiff member so he could feel just how hot and needy you were for him.

Ominis groaned lightly at the sudden warmth atop his hardening cock, his hands coming up to grasp at your hips and rock you slightly for that delicious friction he craved. Your breath stuttered in your chest at your bare, sensitive skin rubbing against the unforgiving roughness of his corduroy trousers and you quickly lost yourself in the moment. One of your hands made its way into his blond tresses, mussing up his perfectly styled quiff and pulling him closer for a searing kiss. He eagerly responded to your whims, surrendering under your burning lips and digging his fingertips into the silk that draped across your body. His left hand began exploring as you kissed, roaming up from the love handles at your hips and towards your neck, pausing briefly to paw at your breast and finding nothing underneath your new nightdress. He bit your lip roughly, pulling you back by your neck and greedily sucking in the oxygen that he forgoed to continue snogging you.

Even after years, his kisses still tasted like ambrosia to a mortal.

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?”

You giggled lightly, a lilt of mischievousness hiding behind the sound of pseudo virtue that made Ominis’ heart skip in excitement. You pushed gently against his hand, signaling that you wanted to whisper your desires in his ear, and he pulled you towards his face again, loosening his grip enough for it to be just the right amount of malleable. Your hot breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks, sending a spark of desire down his spine. A part of him wanted to disregard whatever you wanted to tell him, wanted to throw you onto his desk and have his way with you. But, there was a stronger, more curious part of him that also wanted to know what you had in store.

You bit lightly at his earlobe, licking away the pain before murmuring against his pulse. “I want to try something new tonight, if it’s alright with you, darling.”

He growled at your fingernails wracking up and down his clothed arms, the bone just sharp enough to be felt but not enough to leave marks. He pulled your face back, staring into your eyes with an unnerving amount of contact that one with his disability would normally not be able to achieve. There was something tantalizing swirling in his irises, something dangerous, something devious, and you had to steel yourself to continue with your scheme and not drop to your knees and pleasure him then and there. His smile was lopsided and delicious looking when he replied.

“What do you have in mind, little dove?” He traced his finger up the outside of your thigh once more, running the pad of his thumb against the coarse lace. “What devilish thing is swirling in that gorgeous brain of yours?”

You let go of his arms, trusting Ominis to hold you still while you reached into your hair and undid the ribbon holding it up. The black silken cloth caught on the low lamplight of the office space and swallowed the glow like a deep pit of tar. Your hand was delicate as you grasped onto his wrist, lifting his hand from your thigh and raising it level with your chest, palm up towards the ceiling. You first ran the ribbon lightly along his hand, letting the ends tickle his skin just enough to catch his fancy before carefully laying it in his palm. His other hand released your throat finally, taking the other end of the ribbon between his fingers and pulling it until it was completely unraveled between your buzzing bodies. It was smooth in his palm, sensual, one would even say. He approximated that it was around the length of his arm, possibly the width of your wrist.

A look of confusion quickly took over the blond’s features, and you chuckled softly at how adorable he looked. You took the silk from him, leaning forward just enough to gently drape it over his unseeing eyes and whisper against his parted lips.

“I want to feel what you feel when I touch you.”

He gasped against your mouth, his arm snaking around your hip and pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer until your ravenous core was flush with his throbbing manhood. Ominis’ smile was all teeth when you pulled back again, the ribbon dragging against his skin in the most delectable way as you gazed into his eyes.

“Oh, you do, now?” He mused cheekily. “You want to know how I feel when you touch me?”

He took the silk from your hands, letting it run over your exposed collarbones. There was something impish in his smile, like a wolf in sheep's clothing— the cheshire cat would be jealous of its verisimilitude. He was always mischievous in nature while at school, but he had never really brought it under the sheets with you. Perhaps your proposition excited him in a way unfamiliar, you mused. Gently moving it over the backs of your shoulders, he looped it around the front and draped it across your chest like a loose fitting scarf. It was your turn to be perplexed when his hands began to wind around the ends of the satin ribbon, the question only being answered after a maddening pause. Using the silk for leverage, Ominis yanked you closer until your chests were pressed together, noses brushing and mouths inches from touching.

“You want to know how it feels to be blind— completely under the whim of your partner? You want to put your faith entirely in my hands, not knowing what I could possibly do to you next?” His voice lowered with arousal, taking on a gravely, almost growl-like cadence. “You want to surrender yourself to me?”

You sucked in a shaking breath at his insinuation, nodding minutely as your eyes fluttered closed. You were far past coherent sentences at that point. His mouth only inched closer with each word.

“Oh, my darling girl, your wish is my command.”

He stole your breath with his kiss, his skin feeling like pure sunlight under your fingertips. He stood from his seat with you in his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he made his way towards your bedroom via the route he memorized long ago.

Your comforter is plush when you land, cushioning you as Ominis rests his body above yours. You pull him downwards by his collar, your hands only getting a small moment in his hair before he has you by the wrists, one of his hands roughly planting them above your head while the other explored your curves. Only a minute in his domain and you were already his prey. The blond leaned forwards slightly, his back arching so he could reach your supple, sensitive throat, before nipping and sucking at the webbing between your shoulder and neck. You keened softly, rolling your hips upwards to meet his gentle hip trusts. He let go of your wrists, trusting you to keep them there as he carded his hands down your sides, only stopping when he got to the teasing lace of your negligee’s trim. More and more kisses were pressed to the column of your throat as he smoothed the fabric up your body, revealing your bare, naked body underneath to the world. He groaned at the feeling of your baby-soft skin under his fingertips.

“Nothing underneath? Such a good girl for me.”

You felt Ominis reach into his back pocket for his wand, slowly bringing it forwards and above your heads. The point just barely touched the skin of your wrist when he lazily whispered the binding spell.

“Incarcerous.”

Cotton rope the color of the forest at night wrapped itself around your conjoined wrists, tightening just the right amount so that you couldn’t move but you weren’t in pain before winding around a bar on your headboard. A startled gasp fell from your lips at your sudden capture, your eyes filling with excitement and a little bit of fear at the predatory grin stretching across your husband's face. His hands trailed up your sides again, sending delightful shivers through all of your nerve endings on his journey to your eyes. His fingers paused at the tips of your ears, the ribbon brushing against where your hair was fanned across the bedspread.

Ominis smoothed his thumb across your cheekbone, softening his smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper against your eyelashes. “Are you sure about this, my love?”

You smiled at his care for you, pressing a soft kiss to the closest bit of skin you could reach before answering him, your voice flooded with love. “Yes, my dear. I want you to do whatever you want to me. Make me feel like you do.”

He groaned at your words, taking your consent to wrap the ribbon around your head, tying it in a simple knot at the back. The last thing you saw were his starlight-filled eyes before your world was bathed in darkness.

You were incredibly aware of your level of undress when Ominis moved his body away from yours, opening up your skin to the chill of the room without his body heat. You squirmed against the rope slightly, testing its strength before trying to train your ears to hear your husband moving around the room. Everything was eerily quiet— not even the sound of the grandfather clock in the hallway could be heard beyond the closed door. For a moment you feared the blond left you in the room, leaving you tied up against the bed so he could work in peace. Your heart began to pound harder in your chest with nerves.

All fear quickly fled from your body at the feeling of his fingertips running up the skin of your stomach, drawing a long gasp from your chest. It felt like his hand was touching every nerve in your body, igniting your veins in sinful fire as he crept up and up towards your heaving breasts. He started off slow, just moving his fingers up and down different parts of your body with just the barest touch until you were begging for more. This type of teasing was torturous for you, only just aware of where he was but never knowing if he was going to give you what you wanted.

You whined in the back of your throat, body vibrating with need as he grazed against your chest for a fifth time. “Please, Ominis!”

You were sure your heart would give out when his other hand wrapped itself around your left mound, squeezing the skin between his fingers before taking the right nub between his teeth and nipping. Ominis chuckled at the whine that spilled from your throat, his voice reverberating through your sternum and sending a lovely heat to your center. He let the rest of his weight fall on top of you, relishing in you feeling every bit of skin he had uncovered in your small moment of silence. He was completely bare for you, his hardness pressing against your thigh and pulsating with a delicious heat. You could feel him everywhere. His fingers brushed against the very fabric of your being, pulling you apart by your strings. His breath curled around your lungs, stealing the air frantically inhaled through your squeezing throat. His mouth licked at your brain, sending pulses of pleasure down to your core. You were in utter bliss under his careful, loving hands.

He laughed again at how pliable you were under him, murmuring against your stiff peak. “Where do you feel me right now, pet?”

You sighed shakily as his voice shot through you like a bullet. “Everywhere. I feel you absolutely everywhere.”

The blond took your nipple between his teeth again, flicking it with his tongue until your reacting whimper pittered off into the air. “That’s how I feel whenever I’m around you.”

Ominis began to kiss down your chest, pausing to mouth hotly at your hip bones and leave open mouthed kisses on your naval. “Your mere presence shifts the air around me— changes the trajectory of time itself in my mind. The world slows when you touch me, my darling. My name falling from your lips feels like one thousand tiny suns kissing my cheeks in devotion.”

He mumbled your name against your lower stomach, hopelessly inflamed by how you shivered at the word.

Unable to resist his carnal desires any longer, he dives into your sweet tasting center, first licking a long stripe from base to tip before lapping at you like he was starved and you were his only source of sustenance. You keened loudly for him as stars filled every space behind your blinded eyes.

There he is, you thought. There’s his tongue wrapped around my soul, stealing all my life force one flick at a time.

He moaned at your scent, fully slotting himself between your legs and encasing his head between your thighs. It felt like his tongue was a lightning bolt against your sensitive skin, shocking your clit with every stroke, every tap, every suck. You completely surrendered to his whim, clamping your thighs against his ears, fully intent on keeping him right where he was for the rest of time. It had never felt this good before, never felt this encompassing.

Ominis pressed his face deeper into you, taking the button at the top of your most private parts and sucking it into his mouth. You nearly screamed, your words jumbled as they launched themselves into the air.

“Fuck! Oh God, Ominis!”

His strong hands pulled your legs away from his head, his mouth unlatching from you like a leech as he paused to catch his breath.

“Oh, is it a ‘God’ you want, precious?”

His voice had never sounded breathier— never sounded so completely sinful.

The blond laughed, a barking thing that sent a tingle to your toes. “I do not care if every single God and Goddess across all of the world, all of mythology was fighting over you— you are mine.”

He bit harshly at the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, indenting his teeth marks into you so everyone would know you were owned by him and him alone.

“But if you truly wish for something devout, something reverent, then let my hands be your chapel.” Ominis gently ran his fingernails along the skin of your waist, dragging them up and down until you were a shivering, wiggling mess. “And I will treat your screams, your whimpers, your pleas as my scripture.”

His unseeing eyes never left the direction of your heady, breathy pants as his middle finger slid deep inside of you, long and lithe and curling against the spot that made you believe religion was real. Moans of his name and swears that would make even the devil blush swam in the air around the pair of you, only being swallowed by the plush feather-down comforter under your writhing body. You plead with your husband for more, unsure what more entailed but all the more pressing your center against his awaiting mouth once again and grinding against his tongue. He quickly complied, pressing a second finger into your opening and thrusting in and out at a sped up pace. His lips latched back onto your needy clit and that was all it took for you to spill over into maddening nirvana.

Your hazy mind picked up on the feeling of your husband leaning up on his elbows, kissing his way back up your chest until he reached your gasping lips. He quickly stole them in a gentle but desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and it drove you even further into madness. His prickly, end of the day stubble rubbed against your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing up and down your shoulder and neck with urgency.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart. So, so perfect— just for me, so good just for me.” He was breathing even heavier than you against your pulse, hopelessly devoted to your pleasure, your happiness.

He kissed your pulse, his whispered voice filled with adoration.“Mon coeur.”

He kissed your nose this time. “Mon âme.”

Finally, he pressed delicate kisses to your eyelids, resting his forehead against yours. “Ma vie.”

My heart. My soul. My life.

Warmth filled your entire body, your heart squeezing around his words and committing this moment to memory. Never before had you felt so loved, so worshiped. It was iridescent, the way you could picture his love-struck smile glowing behind your eyes— completely and irrevocably arduous.

Still feeling his burning desire against your inner thigh, you rocked your hips against his, pleas beginning to spill from you once again, but this time with a need to please him.

“Please, Ominis. I love you so much. Take me. Use me. I’m yours, no one else's. I want to feel you inside of me.”

He bit your shoulder roughly, muffling his animalistic grunt before unlatching his jaws and leaning up on his knees. The blond spread your legs wider, lifting your hips slightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up with your entrance. You mewled at the feeling of his head rubbing against your opening, stretching you out slightly and giving you a taste for what was to come.

Ominis whimpered at the feeling of your soft heat against his cock, a little bit of his original domineering persona slipping away at how welcoming you felt for him. “I love you too, my dove.”

With no other words, the blond pressed his hips closer to yours, letting his length slide into your sweltering center bit by bit to not overwhelm you. You could feel every curve of his shaft, every vein along the underside without your sense of sight. Your touch was heightened to its full extent, and it was earth shattering how good this felt. You were simultaneously freezing and burning, living and dying. Your souls could have mingled together and entwined along your timelines with a burning pyre, thrusting you both into every lifetime possible to relive this moment over and over and it would never be enough for you. You both moaned in tandem when your hips became flushed once again, pelvis bones pressing into each other for a delectable friction.

Ominis paused to catch his breath, little tiny moans breaching his lips between each inhale and exhale. His fingers wrapped around your hips, grasping onto your natural handles there as he growled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear with your slightly heightened sense of hearing.

“I am going to make you feel so full, so pleasured, that by the time your climax sends you into oblivion the only word that will be able to grace your lips will be my name.”

With that, he pulled out of you until only his tip was still inside and slammed into you, his hips harshly knocking against yours and his slit kissing your cervix. You wailed into the night as he continued to pound into you, chasing his own pleasure while still being perceptive of yours. In and out he went, the large prominent vein at the base of his lovely cock rubbing against the ridges inside of you in the most heavenly way. Your sounds sang together like an otherworldly chorus, your tones rising and falling in harmony as they floated delicately up towards the ceiling. Ominis’ hands continued to dig into your skin, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips that would last for days. You didn’t care in the slightest— all you could feel was bliss. If you thought earlier was pleasurable, this was pure, unfiltered ecstasy. The knot in your stomach tightened with each thrust of your husband's hips, each time taking him to the hilt and sending blinding whiteness behind your useless eyes.

The blond’s hips stuttered as his orgasm fast approached, yours not far behind as he could tell by how tightly you were squeezing him. He surged forwards towards your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that was more teeth than anything else as he rocked the entire bed with his velocity. The headboard banged harshly against the wall as he swallowed your moans and screams, only the sound of his name breaching through the jumbled nonsense. Ominis nosed at your jaw, groaning next to your ear as his thrusts got sloppier and less rhythmic.

“Come for me, my love— my life.”

The instinctual, innate love he had for you was what ultimately did you in, his words ricocheting you into the strongest rapture you had felt in some time. Your husband followed soon after, your name conjoining with his as you both tumbled into the sweet hereafter.

Your breaths tangled together as you both came down from your high. Ominis was the first to break the spell, pulling out of you gently before getting up and procuring a towel from your adjoining bathroom. He cleaned you like one would dust a prized possession, carefully and with reverence. You were like a precious jewel that he had to protect, something he could admire for years, centuries, millennia to come. Next were the bonds on your arms, which he undid with deft fingers. Your arms dropped to the bed in a grand thump, all of your muscles giving up from how hard you were thrashing. Ominis lifted you off the bed, his hands on your shoulders as he slotted himself behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he finally undid the blindfold. Your eyes squinted at the sudden light of the room, fluttering closed for a moment longer as you relaxed back into your husband. The blond carefully took each of your wrists into his hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing away the minute bruising. You swooned, perfectly content to stay in this moment until the very end of time— until the world died in a grand ball of fire, or with a tiny poof.

Ominis kissed the side of your temple, rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat. “Was that everything you hoped for, my dear?”

You raised your hand up to his face, softly cradling his cheek in your palm. Pure affection spilled from you both in waves.

“Yes, my heart. You were absolutely perfect.”

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #masterlist #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis hogwarts legacy #ominis smut #ominis hl #ominis gaunt smut

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grapejuicebluesrry · 16 days ago

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you can find the rest of the posts under the tag 'grapejuicebluesrry 2024 fic rec'.

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I’ll Follow You Down (25K) by TiredTiredTz

With their fifteenth anniversary almost upon them, Rolling Stone speaks to Louis Tomlinson of One Direction to set the record straight before they take to the stage for their massively coveted One Night Only anniversary performance for which tickets sold out in a record-breaking 1.6 seconds.

With the band’s internal relationships during their heyday leading many to liken them to a modern day Fleetwood Mac, it is no surprise that Rolling Stone journalist Rob Sheffield even once cited the whimsical and charismatic Harry Styles as being the Stevie Nicks to Louis Tomlinson’s intensely brooding Lindsey Buckingham. The pair’s earth-shattering love affair which began when Tomlinson was 18 and Styles just 16, came to an abrupt end when the band parted ways for a so-called ‘eighteen month hiatus’ in 2016, coming shortly after fellow bandmate Zayn Malik’s departure in 2015.

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elephant juice (32K) by stylinsoncity | @stylinsoncity

harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.

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To you I can admit, I'm just too soft for all of it (28K) by starryhaze | @starryhaze28

“Harry?” Louis asks when he hears the frantic crying coming through the speaker. “H, darling what's wrong?”

Concerned, Louis puts on his shoes as he keeps hearing the sobs. It’s the middle of the night and the phone call has definitely pulled Louis out of his deep slumber, but Harry is crying, and Louis has to be with him.

“It’ll be okay, baby, I'm gonna come over, okay? You just- Haz you have to send me your address, yeah? Can you do that for me?” Louis asks, trying to remain as poised as possible as he presses his phone between his ear and shoulder so he can grab his jacket.

“No.” Harry cries out. “It's all wrong, Lou- It’s-” Another sob. “I hate it, Lou, I hate it so, so much, make it stop.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

the nesting shop au

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It Feels Different When You’re With Me (45K) by Rearviewdreamer | @all-these-larrythings

Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

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The Stages Of A Boy Losing His Soulmate (44K) by vintagemaroon

How To Lose Your Husband: A Step By Step Guide Written and narrated by Louis Tomlinson. SOLD OUT. Over the span of 7 brief months, Louis Tomlinson successfully left his now ex-husband in search of true happiness. Now, living the lavish life he deserves, he tells his story in his New York Times bestseller! Married folk all across the globe are flocking to local booksellers to get their hands on this one-of-a-kind novel. Order yours now!

or an exes to lovers AU where Louis and Harry’s marriage falls apart and Louis writes a book about it which skyrockets him into fame. While Harry is a rising rock star, Louis can’t help but swerve off the road every time one of Harry’s songs plays on the radio, forever haunted by past memories. When they both happen to be guests on a talk show, how will they react?

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Hiding Green Smiles (45K) by HoldingOnToChaos | @holdingontochaos

When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent.

He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.

-- Or the BiteMat fic

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i'll make this feel like home (49K) by zouisclimax

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

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discover more fics under the cut!

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Could Be A Catastrophe (29K) by hazzahtomlinson | @itsnotreal

He watched as the other man scrunched up his nose, but slid his hand into Louis' nonetheless. “So, where are we going?”

Louis rolled his eyes at the change in subject. “To get some lunch and then I was hoping I could come back to yours?” He glanced over at the taller man with pleading eyes.

Harry’s eyes widened. “That’s very forward of you.”

Louis eyebrows scrunched before he realized the implication behind his words, “Oh. No. Shit. Sorry. I just meant that I wanted to hang out with your cats.”

Or Louis is one of the two veterinarians in town and somehow gets lucky enough for Harry’s three cats to be his clients.

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you, in every color (38K) by blueskiesrry | @blueskiesrry

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

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Break A Leg (24K) by unscattered_horizons

Louis Tomlinson is a writer living in Brighton with his two dogs. A new neighbor moves in next door and Louis is instantly charmed. Harry's shy, Louis is afraid of scaring them off, and it might take a medical emergency but damn it, fate is going to get these two together. With the help of Louis' dogs, codependent friends, and a long night at the A&E, Harry and Louis might find what they've been looking for.

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Oh, That's What I Want (38K) by lululawrence | @lululawrence

“Oh my god, does that mean we get to go dancing?” Liam asked, clapping her hands.

“I’m 42 years old, Liam,” Louis said, her voice flat. “I don’t think the place to pick up men my age is at a club downtown.”

“Where do you want to pick them up, then?” Zayn asked gently. “Wanna go to a classy bar? We can get all dressed up, show off the tits we didn’t have at 18, and see who we can find.”

Louis pursed her lips. “That sounds a lot more my speed, but I was serious when I said I don’t have anything sexy. I haven’t felt sexy in at least a decade, I don’t think.” That made her pause. “Fuck. Our marriage really has been going downhill for a long time, hasn’t it? We had no idea that we’d somehow switched from romantic partners to roommates.”

“All the more reason to go out and get you laid,” Zayn said, nodding to herself.

Louis is 42 and newly divorced with her four daughters off to college when she realizes all the plans she used to have for her life no longer fit. Just as she's starting to figure things out, she meets Harry Styles who proves sometimes starting over turns out so much better than sticking with the original plan.

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Just for Tonight (I can be yours) (42K) by SadaVeniren | @sadaveniren

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

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the very last drops of an ink pen (47K) by staybeautiful | @harruandlou

Just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.

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Here Where Life Beats (42K) by MarWritesStuff (Ta_Ma) | @marwritesstuff

Harry is a single mum who moves to London for a new job and fears that the move might be affecting his four-year-old pup too much. But when Noah starts at his new school, they meet Louis Tomlinson. A sweet alpha who seems to be almost too perfect to be real.

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you’re the habit that i can’t break (24K) by ohpleaselarry

The boys decide to have a belated band reunion, just the five of them. One week, one cabin in the mountains, five boys.

Harry and Louis haven’t spoken sober in a year.

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Sugar, Sugar (25K) by parmahamlarrie | @parmahamlarrie

Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website.

Louis isn’t waiting with bated breath for his soulmate either. He has more important things to worry about than love. Mainly, his career as a writer, publishing under a pseudonym. He spends most of the year buried under research and manuscripts, taking as much time as he would like, much to his publishers' chagrin. After receiving many millions after the death of his Aunt Ethel when he was young, he technically never has to work again. As far as soulmates go, he figures if it happens, he will be so old that he’ll be stuck in his ways. Or he’ll have grey eyes forever, he doesn’t fucking care. He can get his needs met through a sugar baby website.

Or… The Sugar baby soulmate AU

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a little, then suddenly (34K) by HoldingOnToChaos | @holdingontochaos

Gray-Asexual (demisexual) Harry falls in love and gets attracted to his best friend Louis after fifteen years of friendship.

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Wanna Be Loved By You (40K) by likelarry | @likelarryfics

Harry and Louis have just finalised their divorce when Harry finds out he's pregnant with Louis' baby. Together, they have to find a way to work on their relationship, despite them ending on a bad note, for the sake of their child and maybe along the way, they relearn why they'd fallen in love with each other in the first place.

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Something About Liminal Spaces (34K) by kingsofeverything | @kingsofeverything

Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

There he meets Harry Styles.

Fifteen years older than Harry, Louis tries to keep his distance, but Harry is impossible to avoid and harder to ignore.

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Take Our Bodies Higher (26K) by littlelouishiccups | @littlelouishiccups

Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that.

In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

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i love you (it’s ruining my life) (40K) by wildestdreams | @thelavendrhaze

A situationship AU where Harry is one of the most sought-after omega supermodels in the world and Louis is the alpha lead singer of the indie supergroup, The Rogue. The last thing either of them wants is to fall in love.

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Tossing Round Like Coins (25K) by LetTheMusicMoveYou | @letthemusicmoveyou28

Louis is an alpha who does manly alpha things like play professional football and lift weights at the gym, where he meets alpha Harry who wears nail polish and dates other alphas. Louis isn’t put off by Harry’s strange tendencies, more like intrigued. And maybe just maybe, he’s interested

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take me back, take me back (32K) by eynap | @panye

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Niall says. He puts his head between his hands. “How is this happening?”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Harry says. “I wanted you to figure it out on your own.”

“You think I like Shawn, too?” Niall asks and he’s shocked. “If anyone is supposed to tell me that I’m gay it’s supposed to be my gay best friend!”

Or, Niall invites his new friend Shawn to Zayn and Liam's three-day wedding in Napa Valley, California. He gets way more than he expected.

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Until (61K) by allwaswell16 | (@allwaswell16

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

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Unbonded (24K) by jacaranda_bloom | @jacaranda-bloom

Harry is an omega who has been cast out from his pack, Louis is the alpha leader of the pack where Harry finds a new home, Liam is an alpha with heart of gold, and Niall is a cook who can't seem to stop setting himself on fire.

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Heart Beat (35K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

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gorgeous (it makes me so mad) (29K) by resurrectdead

Harry’s a coffee barista with nothing really going on for him except for the occasional flirting with, some, particularly hot male customers. But when a new guy starts coming in, he suddenly doesn’t know what to make out of any single situation anymore.

or: Harry is a hot mess. Liam is a brilliant roommate. Niall is a wise lesbian co-worker. Clifford is a good boy. Louis is a bad boy. Circumstances are bizarre.

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Rewriting the Melody (26K) by LadyAJ_13 | @ladyaj-13

Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

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Where Life Changed Us (22K) by ExiledQueenCatalog

Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.

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No One Does It Better (49K) by nodibs

Harry's an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn't the first time they've met.

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You Fit Me Better Than My Favorite Sweater (I Will Love You 'Til the End of Time) (31K) by 1Diamondinthesun | @1diamondinthesun

The first person Harry sees through the viewfinder of a camera is Louis Tomlinson.

Snapshots from a decade of Harry and Louis’ life as told through a collection of cameras, milestones and 90s references.

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Life Was a Song, You Came Along (37K) by rainbowninja167 | @rainbowninja

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

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a perpetual sunrise (31K) by moonshinelouis (lunarflwrs) | @moonshinelouis

Louis Tomlinson lives the archetype of a successful man: he has a big white house, a gorgeous wife, and adorable daughters. Happiness is a superfluity, really. And his daughters' dimpled piano teacher is nothing more than a sinful distraction.

1950s AU.

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Only (33K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

Although Louis Tomlinson lived most of his life on the most remote island in the world, now he’s ready to leave home, attend university, and maybe have a chance at finding his soulmate. Prince Harry Styles reluctantly leaves London for yet another diplomatic visit, this time to the tiny island of Tristan da Cunha.

Or the one where the electric touch of Louis’ soulmate isn’t enough to discount that he's a bit of a dickhead.

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Heart Beat (35K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

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Seeing Blind (46K) by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

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Not having a breakdown! (I'm just here for the kid.) (28K) by louisismycat (tiflamomet) | @liminalkitty369

Harry has to park outside his ex-husband’s (Louis) wedding so that he can whisk their kid away if a meltdown ensues during the day. Guests will not know this and will only see him parked outside, it cannot be stressed enough, his ex-husband’s wedding.

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At Least Let Me Buy You Dinner First (35K) by Anonymouis

“I said, Harry. As in Styles. AKA you. You’re pretty and certainly a piece of art if you ask me.” Louis mewls.

“Oh,” Harry breathes. He takes a moment taking in Louis.

Louis watches his eyes work their way all over his face and body trying to read him. Luckily, he knows just how to read Harry. The moment their eyes meet again, Louis leans in a little at a time, as slowly as possible. His heart racing, giving Harry all the time to back out, but then, Harry is reaching around Louis’ wrist and sliding their hands together, lacing their fingers and leaning in as well.

Then…

The bell above the door rings.

They both pull back at light speed, sniffling and coughing from almost being caught. Harry trips over his own feet with the force that he used. Giggles fall from both of them while Louis steadies him.

“First day with legs there, bambi?”

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2 a.m. texts (30K) by everysingleday

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

—

aka, a practice kissing fic.

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Neon Red Glow (20K) by unscattered_horizons

It's Christmas Eve Eve and Zayn is overwhelmed with how much wrapping is left to do. Calling Liam over to his house to help him is the only way out of this mess. Things are cosy and warm and there's holiday cheer. They decorate and they joke and they sip peppermint tea, and before the night is over, they've both unwrapped a Christmas gift they didn't expect.

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Are You Nervous? (22K) by Ioudloudlove

Harry and Louis have been friends for almost twelve years after a chance meeting at primary school. They've grown up together, the very best of friends. They like football, drinking with their friends and picking up pretty girls.

When they're dared by the rest of their football team to play a game of 'Are You Nervous?' at a party, they accept immediately. Neither of them are the type to back down from a bet.

As they play the game and things start to get more steamy, who will cave first? Will they call or truce or will they push the boundaries in the name of winning? And what if it stops being a game and turns into a revelation?

The stakes are high and their resistance is low...

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When Harry Met Louis (45K) by disgruntledkittenface | @disgruntledkittenface

The first time Harry and Louis met, they hated each other.

The second time they met, Louis didn’t even remember Harry.

The third time they met, they became friends.

They were friends for a long time.

And then they weren’t.

(When Harry Met Sally AU)

#grapejuicebluesrry 2024 fic rec #fic rec #2024 fic rec #larry fics #hl journal #tracking happily #tracksintheam #tracking home #larry fic rec #ao3 feed larry #1d fic library

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blindmagdalena · 1 year ago

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The Fall

2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.

Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.

this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn. ♡

Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from.

With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it. However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel.

What the fuck?

His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.

He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?

He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.

As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.

You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust.

"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.

If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.

"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up.

"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

Even a curtain is better than no door at all.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.

“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”

“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”

You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

That’s just what you’ve told him.

From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.

Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.

Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.

To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.

Just full of surprises, little mouse.

Maybe you aren't so boring after all.

He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.

"What was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.

You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips.

The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them.

“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows.

You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.

“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.

He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.

“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”

Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.

“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.

“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.

Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.

He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #depowered homelander #i was originally just going to edit the original post but #i couldn't add a title to it that way #so have a brand new post lol #i never posted this one to ao3 because i always meant to do this #so i'll cross-post this later #also i think i want this to serve as the foundation for my depowered HL verse #especially that one where he's seemingly lost his powers for good #my writing #ho ho homelander #enjoy some wildly out of season christmas btw lol

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starryhaze28 · 2 months ago

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You are my home, my home for all seasons | ~40k

read here https://archiveofourown.org/works/60912199

This Christmas, follow Harry and Louis as they navigate the chaos of the holiday season, balancing festive traditions, celebrating with their friends and family, and on top of it all, Harry is pregnant in his 7th month.

Grab some hot chocolates and get cozy for this fluff filled christmas story.

❄️ Chapter 1: Coming December 1st

🧦 Chapter 2: Coming December 8th

⭐️ Chapter 3: Coming December 15th

🎄 Chapter 4: Coming December 22nd

#ao3 #larry stylinson #larry #larry ao3 #larry fic #mpreg #pregnant harry styles #momrry #starryhaze #hl fanfiction #hlficlibrary

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lunarheslwt · 7 months ago

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On a starlit night

Written by @lunarheslwt for @1domegaverseficfest

“Then… then, what is your motive?” “Must I have one?” Louis scoffed. “What, so am I to believe you just woke up one day and thought ‘Yeah actually, I would like to be one of the suitors of my pack Luna’s ceremony’?” “There’s no motive, nothing like you’re thinking,” Harry replied, glancing at him. “I don’t know what the alphas out there want. I just want a chance to show that I can be a good alpha that can fulfil your needs, both as your mate as well as in supporting you in your Luna duties. Just a chance to show you how well I could care for you, if you were to pick me.” Louis was floored by his sincerity. “That’s all you want? Just that?” Just me? “Yeah.” Or, omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.

24k / M / Omegaverse / Pack luna mating ceremony au / moodboard by me, all pictures belong to original creators and owners

Read here.

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letthemusicmoveyou28 · 7 months ago

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Tossing Round Like Coins by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

Written for @1domegaverseficfest

Pairing: Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry

Rating: Explicit- 25k

“No, no it’s fine.” Louis rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “I guess I’m just not used to hearing another alpha talking about taking a knot is all. You caught me off guard a bit, but I don’t mind.”

Harry’s look of embarrassment soon morphs into a smirk. “Not a lot of knot talk in the locker rooms then?”

Louis laughs. “Oh yeah there is. But it’s more like arguments over whose is bigger and that.” He schools his face into what he hopes is an over exaggerated, self-righteous expression. “But not me of course, because I’m proper evolved.”

Harry snorts out a laugh. “Of course you are.”

(Or the one where Louis is an alpha who does manly alpha things like play professional football and lift weights at the gym, where he meets alpha Harry who wears nail polish and dates other alphas. Louis isn’t put off by Harry’s strange tendencies, more like intrigued. And maybe just maybe, he’s interested).

Title from Kissing Other Boys by JXCKY

Read on Ao3!

#1domegaverseficfest #non traditional omegaverse #alpha/alpha #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #larry fic #1d fanfiction #hl fanfiction #hlficlibrary #hlcreators #hltracks #thelarriefics #read on ao3

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dreaminrainbows · 5 months ago

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I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours)

Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed. He's had enormous success throughout the years, has a couple of Grammys to prove it, yet he'd still be Louis Tomlinson’s vacuum cleaner in a blink of an eye. Louis does like his coffee hot and Harry would gladly be his coffee pot. He groans again, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He's been trying to get a grip on himself for the past fourteen years, the only grip he's gotten is on his man.

Read now on AO3

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heylorrain · 10 hours ago

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" No one has ever cared for me As much as you do

Your love is therapy No drug can give me clarity As much as you do I need you here "

🎼: Scary Love by The Neighbourhood

Just a little scene from my fic from chapter 14.

"Ominis beared a map of pain on his back, on his arm, Lorrain's zodiac sign. As for Lorra, she carried his marks on her shoulder, not knowing why. A constellation of moles that mirrored his own. Small reminders of his presence always by her side"

what are you doing to my brain @ravenwind-75 ilysm

#ao3 #hogwarts legacy #illustration #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanart #lorrain morgana #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hl mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #thosetwoneededasweetmoment #alsodoesOMINIShasDimitrisprofile??...YESHEDOES

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sweetlarrybaby · 6 months ago

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Normal Thing by sweetlarrybaby / @sweetlarrybaby

Prompt 3183

Pairing: Harry/Louis

Rating: Explicit - 4K

"I don't even know your name," Harry said, puffing difficult breaths in and out.

"Already at the final wishes, are we?" The beautiful man laughed. And, how could he laugh in such situation? They were about to die. The plane was about to crash and it was going to set itself on fire before they'd even hit the ground, and every last one of them would be dead. "I'm Louis, there you go. All your wishes are granted before your imminent death."

(or the one where Harry’s bumped to business class and seats next to Louis. a turbulence arises and he grips his seatmate’s hand so hard it causes him to bleed, leaving Harry to tend to his wound with clear antiseptic and Hello Kitty plasters. Louis is endeared)

Read on AO3 NOW!

#larry stuff #louis and harry #louis tomlinson #daddy louis #harry loves louis #hlficlibrary #larry fic rec #larry fic #my fic rec #bottom harry #strangers to lovers #thelarriefics #hl fics #larry fanfiction #read on ao3 #my fic post #louis tomilson #harry styles #hlcreators

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whizzing-fizzbee · 2 months ago

Text

Numb Without You

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Mature 18+ (explicit sex, smut, language, mild violence), all characters are 18+

Summary: Sebastian Sallow, who happens to be your boyfriend, becomes irate when you agree to be Leander Prewett's dueling partner in Crossed Wands. He tries his best to punish you, but lust has a way of softening even the sharpest tempers.

Notes: Just a ramble-y little one-shot songfic thing that ended up being a lot longer than I'd planned. Not sure I like this but so it goes. Characters are 18 and in their seventh year. Gets smutty so minors DNI.

This was inspired by the song "Numb Without You" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized and I obviously don't own them. (Is use of lyrics in stories annoying? Do they add anything? Do you skim past them? I'm curious to know your thoughts.)

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow gnawed at the inside of his cheek.

It was his only defense against himself and the overwhelming urge to commit an act so violent, he’d surely be expelled. He chewed at the soft flesh, stewing in his fury until Lucan Brattleby took notice of him.

“Ah, Sebastian!” Lucan said cheerily, clearly naive to Sebastian’s simmering fury. “You made it. We were wondering where you were. Wouldn’t be like you to miss Crossed Wands.”

Sebastian tore his eyes from the source of his anger to briefly gaze down at Lucan. “Got held up in Potions,” he said tersely.

Stupid Potions. Professor Sharp made him remain after class until he could perfect his powdering technique for asphodel root. The process made Sebastian 20 minutes late for Crossed Wands, and though the day’s duels weren’t part of an official tournament, he was eager to get some practice in.

Life had finally returned to some semblance of normalcy for Sebastian. After his tumultuous fifth year, he dedicated his entire sixth year to focusing on his studies and making amends so that he could spend his seventh year preparing for life after Hogwarts.

Anne had left Feldcroft to live with a family friend in Edinburgh. She threatened to turn Sebastian in for their uncle’s murder if he didn’t agree to drop his pursuit for a cure for her curse. Sebastian, no longer driven by the dark magic of the relic, reluctantly agreed. But Anne was at least returning his owls, even if she hadn’t seen him since that fateful day in the Feldcroft catacomb.

Ominis was also hesitant to come around. The decision to protect Sebastian rather than turn him in weighed greatly on him for much of their sixth year, but before the year ended, he found himself returning to the Undercroft to catch up with Sebastian and repair their severed relationship.

Then there was you. You backed Sebastian without a second thought after Solomon’s death. Your loyalty to him developed long before you even realized you loved him.

You aren’t sure where that devotion came from, considering Sebastian had dragged you through Hell and back. He was cruel and stubborn with you at times, put your life in danger on numerous occasions, and then put his future unfairly in your hands with his biggest kept secret.

But as the two of you stood in the Undercroft one day, shouting your frustrations at one another, you accused him of using you the entire time. You told him he’d only befriended you when he realized you had powers and skills that could help Anne. Then you accused him of only pretending to care about you because you knew the truth about Solomon. But when you turned to leave, he begged you to stay.

“I’ve never used you,” he said, his voice dipping to something much lower and softer than you’d heard from him. “I need you.”

So you stayed and you watched Sebastian Sallow shift from a teenage boy misguided by dark magic to a man who hated himself and the choices that changed him.

He opened up to you that day, spilling every anguished thought and insecurity he had – his regrets, his fears, his entire self-worth. And you hugged him and assured him that everything would turn out OK. Then you promised you’d never leave him.

Since that day, he’d more than held you to that promise. He clung to it like it was his lifeline – the final, fragile thread holding him together.

Without Ominis and Anne to lean on, you became Sebastian’s world. It all became clear during the summer before your seventh year, which you spent together in Feldcroft.

The two of you worked to fix up the Sallow family home, which now belonged to Sebastian. You teased him, telling him it was time for him to start a family to fill the cottage. You joked and laughed about the notion that Sebastian could someday be a father. And then he retorted that he’d need a wife first, and the way he gazed at you made it clear he already had a candidate in mind.

And so, your romantic relationship with Sebastian started that day, in the quiet confines of his cottage. Someday, it would also be yours.

You returned to Hogwarts for your seventh year as a couple, to absolutely no one’s surprise. Even Professor Weasley said, “It was about time,” when she discovered the two of you locking lips in a quiet corner beneath a staircase.

So you and Sebastian transformed from best friends to lovers, Hogwarts’ hot new couple. That was three months ago, so by now, everyone knew they’d be better off wandering into a pond of dugbogs than trying to romance you. If you didn’t hex them for crossing boundaries, Sebastian surely would – or worse.

That’s why Sebastian was currently seeing red.

His tardiness to the day’s Crossed Wands session forced you to find a new partner. You didn’t want to duel alongside anyone else. You and Sebastian had cemented yourselves as the king and queen of Crossed Wands, unbeaten since the day you started.

You loved dueling together. Perhaps it was nostalgic in some ways, a reminder of the early stages of your friendship when you were fighting Ranrok’s loyalists, but it was also symbolic of your relationship – the two of you worked so well together, always in sync and never fearful of your opponents.

But Leander Prewett noticed Sebastian’s absence and pounced at the opportunity to call you his partner, even just for an afternoon.

You didn’t read much into it, but when Leander suggested the two of you hang out at the Three Broomsticks later on, you wondered if the Gryffindor was being far too brave for his own good.

Still, you agreed to duel together and the two of you made quick work of your first two pairs of opponents (though Leander was mediocre at best).

You were too preoccupied to notice Sebastian’s arrival midway through your second duel, so you didn’t see the way he stared at you and Leander.

He clenched his jaw so hard it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. And as you shoved your way in front of Leander to protect him with a perfectly timed Protego spell with Sebastian looking on, you and Leander would have been safer in an acromantula’s nest.

The noise inside the clock tower became a background hum as Sebastian dissociated, a surge of panic and rage ballooning inside his chest. He could hear Lucan speaking in his ear but didn’t register the words. Spells clanged off of wood crates and ricocheted off the stone walls but he took no notice.

The only time he tore his eyes from you was to turn to Lucan.

”I get next round,” Sebastian said quietly. It wasn’t a request.

Lucan looked up at him in surprise. “Do you have a partner?”

”I don’t need one.”

Lucan lit up in excitement, clearly oblivious to the repository of rage that had formed in Sebastian’s brain. “Wicked,” he said with a nod.

You always joked that jealousy didn’t look good on Sebastian, but truthfully, it did. His eyes darkened and he became focused. You loved the way he looked when he was brooding. So when Lucan announced the next round and Sebastian emerged from the top step of the clock tower entrance, you inhaled sharply.

That old adage, “If looks could kill” buzzed in your brain. And poor Leander was as good as dead.

“Sebastian!” you said, relieved to see him, yet terrified for what was likely about to happen. “You made it!”

But your expression quickly contorted into concern when you saw his face.

You knew that look. And it terrified you, because you’d only seen it on select occasions. Only when Sebastian was borderline manic.

You’d seen Sebastian’s jealousy manifest plenty of times, the worst being the way he damn near demolished a man for flirting with you during a visit to Irondale. You knew he thought Leander was a prat and that he’d be annoyed you agreed to partner with him, but you had hoped the two of you would be able to laugh about it later.

You should have known better. Sebastian could be playful, but he didn’t play when it came to you.

Let's get this straight. You are a panic in the bloodstream, yet you bring me peace. You are a stutter in the heart that beats inside of me.

As the students who were crowded inside the clock tower realized what was about to happen, the air inside the room became heavy and tense. The crowd collectively stepped back, melting to the stone walls to make room.

“Sebastian, are you all right?” you asked, your eyes begging him to understand it was all in good fun. You’d never actually betray him.

You loved him.

But Sebastian wasn’t looking at you anyway. He was glaring knives into Leander, who didn’t seem to understand he was nearing his own execution.

You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.

”Sebastian, relax,” you said in a reasoning tone, silently praying your soothing voice might relieve his ire. “It’s just a meaningless duel. Let’s have fun with it.”

Sebastian’s gaze finally shifted to you. It softened a bit, but there was still a blackness in his eyes that made you nervous.

You knew he’d never really hurt you. Not again, not after the scriptorium. He’d die before he allowed that. The two of you dueled each other all the time, countless hours in the Undercroft casting Confringo at one another. He’d never pushed too far or risked anything that could genuinely hurt you. You’d be safe because Sebastian loved you far too much to hurt you — and because he knew you’d put up too good of a fight anyway.

But for as much as Sebastian loved and cherished you, his Achilles had become the notion that anyone else could ever be permitted to do the same.

You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

“Of course, love,” he said steadily as he slid his wand from his pocket. And you knew that his quiet, calm demeanor indicated a brutal battle was to come.

As soon as Lucan signaled the start of the duel, Sebastian fired a fury of offensive spells at Leander, one after another in rapid succession. You knew they were coming, but you could only do so much.

“Protego!” you cried as you shielded your partner, your bubble deflecting Sebastian’s onslaught.

That only seemed to irk Sebastian more as he sent a stinging hex your way. You dodged it and Leander chuckled. He still didn’t seem to fully grasp his predicament.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he teased Sebastian.

“Leander,” you hissed in aggravation.

A basic cast whizzed past your ear and you flinched, dropping your shield charm. You straightened and hit Sebastian with Depulso, buying yourself some time.

“Leander,” you said again, your tone much more urgent as you willed your partner to take things seriously. “Focus.”

Leander snorted and used the opportunity to cast Diffindo. You winced as the spell largely missed, but just managed to nick Sebastian’s side. Blood began to seep through his white shirt but you knew better than to stop, especially when you noticed how your boyfriend’s eyes blazed.

“Sebastian, enough,” you tried to say firmly as Leander cast Incendio to put some distance between himself and Sebastian. But the only thing that burned hotter than the ring of fire was Sebastian’s temper.

“Aguamenti,” he mumbled to douse the flames with water. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked – that signature smirk that typically rendered you weak in the knees. But this time, you sensed danger.

“Sebastian, it’s just you and me,” you said, praying your words would land with him.

Sebastian nodded as your eyes locked. You begged him with your gaze to understand, and he did.

You and me. Those words had become your mantra over the past three years. You and Sebastian would whisper them to one another before raiding bandit camps, fighting Ashwinders and solving sinister puzzles. But you also spoke them in your intimate moments, when it was just the two of you savoring each other’s company.

Something about that phrase comforted the two of you. You knew it had reassured Sebastian, but you also knew he was far too impish to simply stop the duel.

“Alarte Ascendare!”

Sebastian’s spell sent Leander flying backward again. Leander coughed and sputtered. The way he grimaced confirmed he’d likely cracked a rib or two. It also confirmed that a slew of spells was likely to come, because that was Sebastian’s signature move – blast his enemy backward before unleashing a storm of offensive spells on them.

“Leander, look out!” you managed, but it was too late.

Sebastian levitated Leander and hit him with a Confringo and Bombarda spell combination powerful enough to rattle the entire room. Leander was blasted backward, the force sending him crashing into a pile of crates while Sebastian watched his handiwork with smug satisfaction.

“Sebastian!” you scolded. “You could have seriously hurt him!”

“And?”

You huffed in annoyance as you ran to check on Leander, dropping your wand in the process. That was your final mistake.

As you bent down to see if Leander had any visible injuries, you were suddenly levitated off your feet.

“Sebastian Oliver Sallow, you put me down!” you demanded, your legs kicking wildly in the air.

“Or what?” Sebastian challenged, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Fight’s over, you won!”

Sebastian flicked his wand and you floated toward him swiftly, still flailing in aggravation at his antics. He held steady, hovering you above him, higher and higher until your feet dangled well above his head. He smirked and you could feel him peering up your skirt.

“You fucking troll,” you hissed.

Sebastian laughed.

Meanwhile, the crowd had been tending to Leander, who at least managed to sit upright. A group of students helped him to his feet to support him to the hospital wing, but Sebastian paid no mind.

“All right, that’s enough for today,” you heard Lucan declare. “See you all next week.”

Students began to file out of the clock tower for dinner, but a few of your curious friends held back, lingering to see the outcome of your lovers’ quarrel.

“Sebastian, put her down,” Poppy laughed, though you noticed the edge in her tone. “Duel’s over.”

Natty also sensed there was more to it. “Are you alright?” she asked. You weren’t entirely sure if she was addressing you or Sebastian but you didn’t want her to worry.

“We’re fine,” you sighed, still lingering in the air. You rolled your eyes to emphasize your point, that you and your boyfriend were just having fun. Your friends didn’t need to know that you had likely just saved Leander from devastating injury. They did know that you and Sebastian were prone to silly little spats like this, and though they didn’t quite understand your relationship, they knew you always seemed to handle it well.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word alone with my dearly beloved,” Sebastian said, smirking at you.

“You two are something else,” Natty sighed while Poppy giggled. “See you at dinner.”

You waved goodbye and watched them leave the clock tower, your feet swaying gently as you remained suspended mid-air. Once they were out of earshot, you glowered at Sebastian.

“OK, you proved your point,” you sneered. “Now put me down.”

Sebastian merely chuckled. He twirled his wand for emphasis, causing you to also twirl, which made him laugh more.

He was enjoying this far too much and you were struggling with the fact you had little control over the situation.

“Not until it’s very clear to me that you understand what you’ve done wrong.” He flicked his wand again, sending you darting across the room with a swish. “And that you understand there are consequences to your actions.”

“It was just a harmless duel, Sebastian. You weren’t here and Leander asked to be my partner. You know it didn’t mean anything. And you made your point clear to everyone else.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you,” Sebastian noted. “But I bet Prewett loved it. He’s carried a torch for you since fifth year.”

“So? Even if he has, it’s a moot point.”

“ I know that ,” Sebastian said, waving his wand for emphasis. The movements caused you to dip sharply before you were jerked upward again, dangling about six feet off the ground. “But he needed to know.”

“So then why are you punishing me?”

Sebastian grinned. “Because I can.” You heaved a defeated sigh and Sebastian approached you, his eyes fixated on yours. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I promise.”

“And promise me you won’t partner with anyone else again.”

“I promise.”

Sebastian flicked his wand and you gasped as you were tipped upside down, your hair spilling downward and the hem of your skirt slipping from your knees, past your chest.

“Sebastian!” you squawked as you grabbed for your skirt hem, trying to cover yourself.

“Relax, love,” Sebastian said, his voice silky as he circled beneath you. You felt like bait, dangled inches above a hungry shark. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“I know that,” you huffed. “But anyone else could come walking through.”

He flicked his wand and you levitated lower, still upside-down, until he could reach you, his face inches from yours. He smelled warm and earthy, like sandalwood and spices.

“You’re awfully attractive when you’re vulnerable,” he teased in your ear. He reached upward, his fingers gently touching the top button of your blouse. You held your breath as he popped open the first button, then the second, exposing your chest. The air inside the clock tower felt cool against your skin, but you felt distressingly hot.

Sebastian was quick to notice that you hadn’t bothered to squirm or swat his hands away. He knew you too well. You liked when he was possessive over you.

Let's get this straight. You are a fever in the cold, yet I'm not shivering. You are a shudder in the voice that screams inside of me.

“But you do need to be taught a lesson,” Sebastian continued. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your upside-down lips before his mouth found your neck.

You inhaled sharply as the blood continued to rush to your head. Sebastian gently nuzzled against your collarbone until you could feel him smirking against your skin.

“You feel hot,” he murmured against you.

“Probably because you damn near set Leander on fire,” you retorted. You could still hear one of the wood crates crackling in the corner.

“He deserved it,” Sebastian mumbled before his lips found yours again. When he pulled away, you could feel his eyes slink upward to your chest. He pressed a trail of kisses from the corner of your lips, up your neck and between your breasts.

Your breath hitched and you wondered if you were going to pass out. Sebastian already knew how to rob you of all sensibilities, but the blood in your brain induced a haze that clouded all of your inhibitions.

You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.

You could feel him smirking against your chest until he pulled away, stepping back to set you upright with a swish of his wand.

“Put me down,” you said firmly, hoping you sounded more authoritative than you felt. In truth, you felt completely submissive.

“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He could be cruel, but he’d never force you to expose yourself to half of Hogwarts. That was all meant for him and only him anyway. That was the entire point of all this.

Sebastian held his wand out, steadily lowering you until you were a foot from the ground. As soon as you assumed you were about to reunite with the stone floor, he caught your gaze and grinned.

Another quick flick of his wand sent you swooshing toward a pile of untouched crates stacked away in the corner. You squealed in surprise until you were gently lowered slowly to a seated position on top of one. Sebastian tread casually toward you, one hand still clutching his wand as the clack of his footsteps echoed throughout the clock tower.

“Bastard,” you sneered as he reached you.

“Now, now, love,” he cooed as he stepped closer, using a knee to nudge his way between your legs. “Don’t be mad. You’re the one who betrayed me, after all.”

“I’d hardly consider that a betrayal,” you chided. “Prewett’s about as useful as a Flobberworm. I would’ve been better off dueling on my own.”

“Glad you learned your lesson,” Sebastian mumbled as his arms snaked their way around your waist. “Now you get to make it up to me.”

“If I make it up to you, will you apologize to Prewett?”

”Absolutely not.”

”Sebastian…”

Sebastian sighed as he drew back to meet your gaze. “Why should I apologize?” he demanded. “He was the one moving in on my girlfriend.”

”Oh, please. Even if he was, it wouldn’t matter and you know that.”

”But it’s the principal,” Sebastian drawled. “He should know better. Everyone knows you’re mine.”

You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

Perhaps Sebastian was a bit possessive when it came to you. Attention from others made his blood boil and he was always quick to challenge them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you — you’d proven your loyalty to him long ago, but his fear of losing you often made him irrational. He’d already lost so many people close to him, you couldn’t help but give him some grace when he tried to cling too tightly to you.

”So maybe Prewett was just trying to test his luck. Or maybe he’s lost what few brain cells he had,” you said. “The point is, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sitting here with you, not him.”

”Too right you are,” Sebastian smirked. He inched closer and leaned in to kiss you in that slow way that made your stomach somersault. But as he kissed you, you quickly pulled away as you noticed the feeling of something trickling over your hand.

“Sebastian!” you gasped as you realized your hand was covered in blood. “You’re still bleeding.”

Sebastian sighed, clearly annoyed that your concern for his injury was outweighing your desire. “I’m fine,” he huffed.

“You’re hurt,” you said sternly, eyeing his side. Blood had started to seep through his white shirt, which was ripped from Leander’s Diffindo spell.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian repeated. “And I refuse to allow the results of Prewett’s ignorance to distract my girlfriend any longer.”

“At least drink a Wiggenweld,” you ordered.

“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He turned on his heel and you watched as he crossed the clock tower to the storage chest equipped with various potions and first aid items. You leaned back on your hands, your feet dangling from the edge of the crate as you could hear Sebastian rummaging through the chest. “Ah, one Wiggenweld,” you heard him say before he paused to down the potion. A tiny clink suggested he tossed the vial aside before returning to you.

As he crossed the room again, you swallowed as he unbuttoned his shirt while he walked, slowly peeling it away until it fell to the floor in a heap. He smirked as you shifted atop the crate, the flickering lights dancing over his body to cast shadows on the stone walls.

“Now, where were we?” Sebastian said smoothly. He returned to his standing position between your legs, placing one hand on either side of you as he leaned forward.

Your eyes fell to the slash beneath his ribcage and you frowned. “At least let me do a quick healing spell,” you begged.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian insisted. But as you reached your fingers toward his wound, he inhaled sharply and you shot him a stern look.

“I’m not letting you touch me until it’s healed,” you said.

Sebastian groaned in annoyance. “Fine,” he huffed as he straightened up, turning his body so that the gash faced you. “Have at it, love.”

“Thank you. My wand, please?”

“Oh yes, that,” Sebastian said, offering you a smirk. “Forgot I still had that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Sebastian chuckled at your remark and brandished your wand from his back pocket. “Here you are, princess.”

You glowered at him and pointed your wand at his wound. “Vulnera Sanentur,” you murmured. The gash immediately stopped bleeding and the skin seemed to fuse back together, leaving a red scar that looked tender and raw. “That’s better. Not fully healed, but better.”

“Good,” Sebastian said, plucking your wand from your hand and tossing it to the side. It clattered on the stone and rolled until you could no longer see or hear it. “Now, where were we?”

“Sebastian, we really should be getting to dinner,” you said weakly. Sebastian grinned. He was clearly amused by how pitiful and unconvincing you sounded.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “At least not for dinner.”

Maybe it was his tousled hair. Maybe it was the signature smirk that never seemed to leave his lips. Maybe it was the way he had fought for you in such an unflinching manner. Or maybe, most certainly, it was the way the low light caught his toned arms and torso, his new scar a symbol of the lengths he was willing to go for you.

Whatever it was, it commanded control over you and you had no desire to fight it. You never did.

I won't leave, no, I won't surrender. I'll wait 'til the end of, the end of time. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

Instead, you let Sebastian lean down to kiss you, his hands grabbing your face. It wasn’t long before he fully closed the gap between you, standing pressed against your body while his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

Your hands roamed from his sides, over that new scar, up his chest until they snaked around his neck. Your legs mimicked your arms as they wrapped Sebastian’s frame.

“I do have to admit,” Sebastian murmured against your neck. “You do look pretty fucking gorgeous when you’re dueling.”

“You’ve just now figured that out?” you retorted. You could feel Sebastian smile into your skin.

“Of course not. You always look bloody gorgeous. It’s just particularly alluring when you happen to be surrounded by fire.”

“Noted,” you murmured. “Though that doesn’t mean you can cast Confringo every time you’re aroused.”

“You’re no fun.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before Sebastian’s hands found their way beneath the hem of your skirt. You felt the pads of his fingers gently skimming the tops of your thighs until they found your hips.

The longer he kissed you, the more the bulge in his pants prodded your inner thigh in earnest. The feeling of Sebastian’s desire for you fueled your own, igniting the familiar beckoning between your legs that made you shift closer to the edge of the crate.

Sensing your urgency, Sebastian pulled away just enough to smirk at you. “Now now,” he mused. “If I had to endure the absolute torture that was watching you duel with Prewett, you should have to exercise a little patience yourself.”

You should’ve known you weren’t getting off the hook that easily. It was never that easy with Sebastian.

His eyes fell to your chest, where the top two buttons remained open. He reached for the third, then the fourth and downward, his fingers lingering as they took their time with each one.

With your shirt hanging open, Sebastian reached for your hair with one hand, balling it within his fist as he kissed you hard. The other hand snaked its way over your breasts to your left shoulder, tugging your shirt sleeve off. He released your hair to remove your other sleeve, leaving you bare above the waist.

Sebastian took a moment to admire you – he always did. He had a way of ensuring you felt like you were the only other person on Earth, like your physique alone kept his veins open and his heart pumping.

Once his eyes were done drinking in your body, he reached for one of your breasts, his palm cupping you while his fingers gently squeezed. His thumb traced circles over your nipple until his mouth replaced his hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his tongue flicker across your skin. You wanted his tongue everywhere but if you asked for it, he’d surely continue to tease you with it.

Instead, you felt one of his hands creep back under your skirt, resting atop your thigh again. He gave your leg a gentle squeeze and you shifted, parting your legs to invite him in. His fingers hooked around the waist of your panties, so you lifted your hips to help him remove them.

His fingers traced gentle lines over your entrance and you bucked your hips, your silent way of begging for more. Your body was aching to feel any part of him inside of you, but he merely flashed you a smirk and left his fingers trailing outside of your folds.

A whimper escaped your lips as he kissed you again and you just knew he was thriving off of your impatience. He kissed you in ways that left you at a loss for thought, void of all composure as his fingers drew enticing circles around your cunt.

“Sebastian, please,” you whined, rocking forward in desperation to relieve the scorching tension swelling in your core. He barked a laugh.

“It’s sexy when you beg like that,” he chuckled. He dipped his head to kiss your neck, nipping gently at the skin before his lips pressed a trail of kisses between your breasts and across your stomach. Bent over your body, Sebastian lowered himself to place a kiss atop your knee until he started a new trail beneath your skirt, creeping closer to your core until…

He straightened up again, standing tall as he flashed a sinister grin that nearly made you scream in frustration.

You hated the waiting game. Especially when it was getting dark and dinner would be over soon. Especially as the space between your thighs had become so sensitive, so wet, you nearly moaned at the slightest shift in weight. Especially when you knew how fucking good it would feel when you finally engulfed every inch of Sebastian’s length.

But perhaps there was a way to speed things up. You were a smart girl and Sebastian was merely an 18-year-old man. Surely you could find a quicker way to achieve your goal of convincing the bastard to hurry up and fuck you until you gasped his name and saw constellations undetected by any telescope.

So before Sebastian could tease you with that stupid fucking tongue any further, you reached for his belt, unbuckling it with expert rigor.

“Awfully eager, aren’t we?” he teased. But instead of indulging his cruel banter, you indulged yourself by tugging his trousers down, reaching for the one thing you knew would gain back your control.

Sebastian hissed the moment he felt your fingers wrap around him. And though he loomed over you, gazing down at you with heavy eyes, you had regained control.

You wrapped your lips around him and he groaned, his head tilting backward and his eyes falling shut as he focused on the sensation. This time it was your turn to tease with your tongue and Sebastian silently praised you for it.

You typically took your time when it came to this task. You enjoyed the empowering feeling of reducing Sebastian to whimpers and moans. But the prolonged build-up – the tension from the duel, the jealousy Sebastian couldn't quell, the way he kissed you like he relied on your breath for his own oxygen, had you wound so tight you were certain your insides had contorted into knots.

So you quickened your pace for a bit before allowing your tongue to flicker across Sebastian’s tip as his fist grasped your hair into a tangled mess.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled toward the ceiling.

His tip hit the back of your throat and your head bobbed as you took him in. The way he groaned, the way his nails dug into your scalp, you knew he’d returned to his rightful place – wrapped around your finger, even if you were presently wrapped around him.

You also knew he would never leave you hanging. He wouldn’t finish until you did, which meant you just had to tantalize him a little more, until his patience crumbled. A few more flicks of your tongue should do it…

With a sharp tug of your hair, Sebastian pulled himself from your mouth, his teasing ways now forgotten.

“Come here,” he growled.

You straightened to sit upright and before you could say a word, Sebastian grabbed your legs and yanked you to the edge of the crate. The hem of your skirt was shoved upward and Sebastian was prying your legs apart in haste.

You ran your tongue across your bottom lip as you realized you’d earned what you wanted. Finally .

As Sebastian guided himself into you, you realized you’d been holding your breath. It escaped your lips in the form of a soft moan while Sebastian mumbled a curse at the sensation of your heat enclosing around him.

“You’re so wet,” he growled as you stretched around his length.

“Your fault for punishing me,” you murmured.

“And I’d do it again.”

Your banter subsided as the quiet corner soon echoed with the sounds of heavy breathing and skin whipping against skin. Sebastian’s rhythm was quick, yet steady while you silently thanked the gods, the fates, and every other spiritual being for causing you to cross paths with Sebastian Sallow.

Though you’d had Sebastian dozens of times before, there were no words to describe how fucking blissful it always felt.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage.

Your arms were draped around Sebastian, your fingers pressing sharply into his shoulder blades as he pumped into you with more force. Your nails gripped at his flesh and he clenched his jaw at the sting.

“Harder,” you breathed and Sebastian obliged. His hands gripped your hips harder as he worked. No more punishments. No more games. Now he merely wanted you to come undone for him.

And then you did. Your breath hitched in your throat and you managed to sputter Sebastian’s name just as your orgasm began. It pulsed through you and you cried out as your walls clenched around him, compelling him to fuck you harder, to ensure you were good and finished.

When your high subsided, Sebastian paused to kiss you forcefully, reminding you he was the one responsible for it. Your thighs glistened in the low light and Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the spot where the two of you were connected as he steadied his pace again.

He reached up to tug your hair, your head snapping backward so that you’d look him in the eyes. He pulled just hard enough so that your eyes began to water, and he smiled at you.

”Having fun?” he cooed.

”Yes,” you panted.

“You’re lucky I was in a forgiving mood today.”

So lucky. You’d survived a goblin rebellion, vengeful poachers and bloodthirsty creatures. You’d been born with a rare gift, a powerful magic that most couldn’t even begin to fathom. But your luckiest moment in life was the day it led you to Sebastian Sallow.

Sebastian reached down to press his fingertips against your clit and your gasp echoed throughout the clock tower. Anyone passing by would surely catch on to the debauchery happening inside, but you trusted that Sebastian would hex anyone who threatened to ruin the occasion.

His fingers dragged their way across you, beckoning you to lose yourself for him again. The crate beneath you creaked as you rocked your hips to increase the friction wrapped around Sebastian’s cock, desperate to ride one more wave of ecstasy. As it started, you squeezed yourself around Sebastian, eliciting a sharp grunt from him.

The sound that left your lips was damn near guttural but you were too euphoric to care. Sebastian’s cock pounded that soft spot of flesh that made your thighs shake and your cunt flood around him.

It was too much for Sebastian’s restraint and soon he was also spilling himself, filling more than your body could take. As his own orgasm subsided, the sounds of your panting quickly replaced the sounds of your sins.

Sebastian rested his head on your shoulder as you caught your breaths and the room returned to sharp focus. Though you were hot, your hair plastered to your forehead, you suddenly became very aware that the air inside the clocktower was chilly. You gasped as a sudden shiver coursed through you and Sebastian lifted his head with a frown.

“Let’s get you dressed,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to your temple. He backed away to help you gather your wand and the articles of clothing you’d shed before getting dressed himself.

When you were both decent, he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a quiet kiss.

“All right?” he asked.

“All right,” you answered with a smile. Your body felt tired, yet relaxed, and your head no longer felt full of the day’s stress.

“Learn your lesson?”

“No.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk at your response. “Sure you don’t want to rethink that?”

“If by ‘lesson,’ you mean dueling with anyone but you, yes. But even the brightest witches sometimes forget everything they’ve learned,” you teased.

“Then the brightest witches will continue to be punished in the most cruel and unusual ways,” Sebastian hummed in your ear as he tossed an arm around you to steer you toward the archway.

“We missed dinner,” you whined as you returned to the castle.

Sebastian sighed. “We can sneak down into the kitchens and grab something. I’m sure they’ll have those biscuits you love.”

“I’d kill for a shepherd’s pie right now,” you mumbled longingly.

Sebastian squeezed your shoulder gently. “I’ll treat you to one at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow, I promise,” he said.

You smirked to yourself as you reached the castle doors and pushed your way inside. “You know, Leander offered to take me there tonight, after our duel. Beginning to think I should’ve taken him up on it.”

“He what?”

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fandom #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow smut #hl #ao3 writer #whizzing fizzbee fanfic

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the-dangerous-mute-lunatic · 2 years ago

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Redemption - @silverstreams

A commission that accompanies the final chapter of Redemption!

Every story comes to a close, and every character finds the bonds that make them whole. Congrats to Silver for 10 years and the finale of an incredible fic!

#portal #portal 2 #hl #half life #judith mossman #chell #doug rattmann #caroline #redemption #redemption spoiler #art #my art #commission #congrats again on finishing redemption!!#this was a joy to create for you #fic #ao3

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orqheuss · 2 years ago

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In the pursuit of knowledge

(Ominis/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

***

It's after curfew, and you and Ominis are tipsy on firewhiskey in the Undercroft. The sexual tension is heavy in the air-- what are two teenagers secretly in love to do?

Ao3 link here

Smut based on a drawing by @gangstagandalf

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

You were lying on the floor of the Undercroft, your legs crossed in front of you and your hands resting on your abdomen as you gazed upwards. A small smile creased your face as you asked the blond next to you the question that had been on your mind since the firewhiskey entered your system a few hours ago, your foot lightly tapping his where they touched. Ominis was leaning against one of the many columns in the space, his head resting heavily against the stone and his legs stretched as well, forming an L shape with your bodies. You both were pleasantly tipsy by this point, a soft warmth filling your bodies and a lovely little fog swirling through your minds. Sebastian had left not long ago, claiming that he was off to his bedchambers to sleep off his inevitable hangover; you had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually going to go bother a particular brunette Hufflepuff with a soft spot for beasts, though.

The boy pondered this for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing at his brow. He swirled the bottle of whiskey in his hand around, tapping the base of it against his thigh. A hum left his closed lips before he spoke. “No, never really had the inclination to.” He leaned forward slightly, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a small drag of the amber liquid before letting gravity pull him back towards the pillar with a thump. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “Many have tried, but it didn’t feel right.”

A look of confusion passed over your face, your lips tweaking into a small frown as you raised up to your elbows. “What do you mean?”

He lazed his head towards your direction, eyes still closed but a close-lipped smile creeping up his cheeks. “I always thought my first kiss should be with someone I cared deeply for— maybe even loved, if it came to that. My parents have tried to set me up a numerous amount of times, but I didn’t feel anything for the girls they introduced me to.” He turned away from you again, his eyes opening and staring unseeing at the arched ceiling. “I want all the feelings people talk about— the butterflies, the fireworks, the encompassing warmth, not just my name signed next to some random woman that my mother deemed ‘appropriate’ for me so we can keep the bloodline strong.” He cleared his throat, swallowing around the sudden nervousness that rested there. “What about you? Has there been anyone?”

You hummed in thought, nodding along with his words. “I’ve been waiting for the same, though I can’t say I’ve had many strong contenders.”

You watched as a chuckle took over his visage, his perfect teeth glowing in the candlelight and his shoulders lightly shaking with mirth. “Yes, I imagine there aren’t many good choices in our current pool of suitors.”

A snort blew out of your nose against your consent, your expression twisting into one that said “no shit.” “Agreed. Most only want one thing anyway, and if I haven’t kissed anyone yet I’m certainly not doing that. At least, not with just anyone.”

Ominis made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat, the smile falling from his face as fast as it appeared and his eyebrows pinching downwards. “If those neanderthals only care about getting their dick wet, they don’t deserve your time.”

You laughed loudly, the crassness of his words startling you. After a few moments, he joined you with his own sounds of joy, ending with both of you breathing heavily and a rosy flush across your cheeks. Your hazy, intoxicated eyes floated over to his form, taking a moment in the calm to drink him in entirely. Nearly everyone knew that you liked the blond boy— everyone except him, of course. No matter how many times you’ve tried to hint at your feelings, each one completely went over his head. Some had told you to just give up, that he was never going to get it or he was just trying to spare your feelings by ignoring your advances, but you truly couldn’t help it; the boy was beautiful inside and out. It certainly didn’t help your hunger for him that he had decided it was too hot earlier and undone the first few buttons of his shirt, unknotting his tie in the process and leaving it loose around his neck. You took in his birth marks first, tracing each and every little dot from the corner of his eye, down the tops of his collarbones, all the way to his long, lithe fingers still wrapped around the neck of the square shaped bottle. Merlin, even his fingernails were lovely; you had never admired the small details of someone before him— how his elbows sat outside of his rolled up sleeves, the length of his golden eyelashes, the curve and pale pink color of his cupids brow. Your eyes danced over the curve of his mouth, wishing desperately to know what he tasted like. Would he be sweet, like the candies he loved so much? Would he be bitter like the firewhiskey on his breath? Or would he be something entirely new, something you had never tasted before? Your cheeks burned at the thought. Moving slowly upwards his face, you got caught on the sharpness of his cheekbones next. One wrong move and you could cut yourself on those ridges. You thought that would be a beautiful reason to bleed. Trailing up the soft curve of his ear, you admired his flaxen hair under the low lighting. The tiny blazes of the floating wicks caught each strand growing from his scalp and transformed them into spools of pure golden silk. You wondered if it was as soft as it looked— if it would look as pretty grasped between your fingers, if the light would catch it the same from between your thighs—

Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, a familiar warmth growing in your lower stomach.

Cutting off your lewd thoughts, you snapped your eyes to his, watching the pale blue irises dance in the firelight. They were almost ethereal— otherworldly, you would say. There was something about the color that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Or maybe it was the sparkle that resided inside, the hidden spark of mischief that rarely saw the light of day? Either way, you could stare into those eyes all day if he would let you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or something about the intimacy of the situation at hand, but you wanted to swim in that blue. You wanted to jump in and dive all the way to the bottom of his mini-oceans. Drowning in his eyes would be your favorite way to go.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your tongue poking out to wet yours as you pondered your next move. Crawling up to your knees, you shuffled towards the boy, reaching your hand out for the whiskey in his grasp. You gently unwound his fingers from the neck, minutely shuddering from the dizzying spark that passed between your hands touching, and took a long drag. Ominis laughed at the little cough that escaped from you, his hand reaching up and smoothing his hair before flopping downwards and landing right on your thigh. His fingers slid dangerously under the hem of your skirt, smoothing against the tops of your thigh-high socks. Color spread across your face and down your neck at the pure heat that radiated from his palm— a matching blush stretching across the boys cheeks just the same. Even still, he made no move to change his grip, going as far as to squeeze the skin between his fingers unconsciously.

You swallowed roughly, your gulp near audible as you lifted your own hand into the air, letting it hover for a moment with nerves before steeling yourself and letting it fall atop of his. Pure need burned under your skin. Perhaps it was time to be more direct in your approach.

Clearing your throat, you leaned slightly closer to the very handsome Slytherin. “Ominis, you’d say we’re friends, correct?”

Confusion creased his face, a question dangling at the tip of his tongue. “Yes, you know you’re my closest friend besides Sebastian. Why?”

You shift closer, causing the both of your hands to slip further up your skin. The blond swallowed thickly, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure building in his pants.

“Would you say you care for me?”

Ominis can smell the tension in the air around the both of you. He inhales it deeply, his eyes fluttering closed at the enticingness of it. His voice comes out as a stuttering breath. “Y-yes, you could say that.” Care was definitely putting it lightly— he had been smitten with you for Merlin knows how long.

In a bold movement, you shifted your weight and threw one of your legs to the other side of his, straddling his hips and pressing your heat against his thigh. His other hand shot up to hold you still at the waist. Both of you were panting, heaving breaths mingling in the space between your faces. Your hands came up to drape around his shoulders, one of your thumbs smoothing back and forth on the skin creeping out from under his starched collar. Leaning forward a bit more, your nose brushed against his, igniting the fireworks in your chest and sending your eyes fluttering shut. There were mere inches between the two of you— one move and you would fall into the sweet oblivion of his kiss.

The boy could hear your heart pounding in your chest; It was a comfort to know that you were just as nervous as he was. His grip tightened at your waist as his thumb mimicked the motions on his neck at the center of your thigh. He could feel himself getting excited where the both of you were connected, and his heart skipped a beat when your lips very lightly brushed against his— barely a touch but still so very tantalizing.

Your words were nothing more than a breath. “Can I kiss you, Ominis?”

He loved how his name sounded on your lips.

A low groan came from his chest, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

And then there was no more space between the both of you. The kiss was gentle— lips carefully caressing against lips like two fragile pieces of glass. It felt like you were made to kiss him. Neither of you moved in fear of scaring the other away, your bodies stiff and hands trembling where they rested. After a moment you separated, breathing shakily against the other while your foreheads rested together. Ominis’ hands squeezed you harder, pressing his fingerprints into your skin and accidentally dragging his still moving thumb to your inner thigh. You sighed, a small moan humming in the back of your throat.

It was like a switch flipped in the blond at the sound— a primal hunger waking up inside of him at the sound of your pleasure. His lips surged forwards again, capturing yours in a searing kiss for the second time. He pressed you tightly to him, the hand on your thigh moving even farther up your skirt, passing over your bottom and pressing at your lower back. The other moved from your waist up to your head, weaving his fingers through your hair and gripping at your roots. You keened against him at the sudden pain, rolling your hips in search of a delicious friction you’d never known before. The blond’s tongue ran along your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from your throat and opening you up to his invasion. The absolutely sinful sounds of your tongues pressing together sent a shiver of arousal down your spine. Your hand snaked up the side of his neck, slithering into his golden locks and harshly tugging his head back so you could get to the supple skin at his collar. He hissed, mouth falling open in pleasure as you attacked the skin where his shoulder connected to his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses in the wake of each of your love bites. The hand at your back slid down and grabbed hold of your ass, grinding you down on his hard length and sending a tumbling moan from the both of your mouths.

The fingers tangled in your hair tugged you back lightly, dragging your face from his flesh and forcing you to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown out to their full size, the cicle of black nearly taking over the entirety of the soft blue pools in lust. His chest was heaving as he struggled to push air into his lungs and speak at the same time. “Wait— I need to know that you actually want to do this.” It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your chest at the vulnerable look in his eyes. He was bearing his whole soul to you. “Call me selfish if you wish, but if we continue down this path I do not think I will be able to stop myself. Please tell me you want this as much as I do— that you burn for me as much as I burn for you.”

You breathed a laugh against his open lips, grabbing at the ends of his tie and pulling him closer once again. “I crave you more than I have ever craved anything else in this world.”

You cut off his sigh of relief with your mouth, teeth clashing together from the velocity. You use your hips to slightly rotate the both of you, pushing Ominis’ body backwards with your chest until you were lying back on the cold stone ground. He chuckled against you, biting your lip and pulling gently.

“Eager little minx, aren’t you?” You wanted to kiss that smug look from his face.

Your hands began to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaning close and just teasing your lips on his neck. You felt wonderful against him. “May as well move to the next step— the pursuit of knowledge awaits no man.”

His barking laugh filled the chasmous space around you, ricocheting off the walls and echoing back to you before it was swallowed by a surprised moan from your teeth digging sharply into his collarbone, your hips rolling downwards in tandem. His large hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs, trembling in hesitation and restraint; he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hips and drag you down across his throbbing length. You had similar plans it seemed as you pulled back and began unbuttoning your shirt. Ominis quickly captured your lips again, replacing your hands with his and all but ripping the fabric from your form, leaning upwards slightly on his elbows and shucking his own shirt from his body. You undid the button of your skirt as well, leaving you in just your underclothes. You moved to pull the long socks from your feet but a hand stopped you, a growl filled with pure, unfiltered want sending a pulse directly to your already dripping core.

“Leave them on.”

You frantically nodded, dropping your weight back onto his lap and grinding against him again. The sweet, sanguine sounds of each moan you dragged from his bruised throat furthered your movements. Incredibly annoyed at the fact that he still has trousers on, you reached your hands down and began to undo his belt, threading the leather through the buckle and tossing it in the direction of the rest of your clothes. You wanted to lick, to taste every single inch of his skin. Your fingers ghosted at the area where you connected, dragging your fingertips along his hard member and drawing an absolutely lewd whimper from his kiss-bruised mouth.

You whispered against the skin of his chest, taking one of nipples between your teeth and lightly biting. “May I?”

Ominis didn’t care what you were asking for, as long as you didn’t stop. “Fuck— yes, stars, please.”

Him begging for your touch was doing something to you.

You smiled against his ribs, pressing kisses to every freckle and mole you could find as you drifted downwards to his needy manhood. If someone were to tell Ominis that he died and had gone to heaven, he would have believed them— there was no way this was actually happening. A rouged blush dressed his entire body when he felt your fingers drag along the waistband of his trousers, your nails kissing his skin before popping open the button and dragging down the zipper. He lifted his hips to help you, hissing as you pulled his trousers and pants down to his knees and letting the cold air of his secret hideaway brush against his smoldering skin. His cock stood at attention in front of your eyes, the tip a brilliant pink and precum leaking from his slit. Your hot and heavy makeout session really got him going.

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing a particularly prominent vein along the underside. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

The praise drew another whine from his throat, and he threw one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound in embarrassment. You must have put some sort of spell on him, there was no way these sounds were voluntarily leaving him. You nipped at his hipbone in a warning, trailing your finger along the vein that was currently fascinating you.

“No muffling yourself, my love. Let me hear you— I love your voice so much.”

He hesitantly removed his hand from his mouth, choosing instead to run it through his hair and mess it up even more while his other hand reached down and threaded in your own locks.

You smiled wryly against the skin of his thigh. “Good boy.”

You punctuated your words with your tongue, dragging the appendage along the length of his twitching cock and drawing a long, thunderous moan from the boy below you. My, what lovely sounds he made. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his weeping tip before opening your mouth and taking him into your throat one inch at a time.

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat, pleasure flooding his system. “Fuuuck, you’re lips feel so good around me, darling.”

Darling. The pet name only spurred you along even more, your eyebrows knitting together as you fought against your gag reflex to fit even more of him into your awaiting throat. You were going to take him all the way to the hilt.

A stream of moans and grunts fell from Ominis’ throat as you bobbed your head up and down, finding a rhythm that works for the both of you. His fingers tightened in your hair, struggling against his need to grab your head and fuck into your throat. It wasn’t like he hadn’t experimented sexually before, he was a teenage boy after all. Masturbation was normal at this point in his life, but his hand never felt this good. Each bob of your head, each twist of your tongue along his length, sent a bolt of electricity down his spine and directly to the spot in his lower stomach where a knot of pleasure was forming. You lifted off of him with a pop, heaving air into your lungs and tonguing at his slit, and the blond saw stars. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate; his orgasm was fast approaching with every flick of your heavenly muscle. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for something as you inhaled and exhaled headily from your nose. He was about to ask what you were doing when you took him back into your mouth in his entirety, sliding his cock down your throat and letting your nose rest against the curls at the base. He couldn’t stop the sounds that came from him, each one higher pitched and more needy than the last. Ominis tugged at your hair, trying to pull you off before he finished.

“W-wait— Shit, I’m so close. Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

You didn’t listen, digging your nails into his hips and holding on for dear life. Your throat pulsated around him as you struggled to not gag, drawing a particularly loud and high pitch whimper from the blond. You reached down and thumbed at his taut sack, and he was a goner. A hiss that sounded distinctly like your name flew from his open mouth as he shot down your throat. You swallowed around him, licking at his slit for every last drop and pulling overstimulated keens from your lover’s throat. He yanked you off of him, an absolutely glorious blush covering the entirety of his body. You watched his chest heave up and down for a moment before you made your way back up to his face, smoothing your hand over his cheek and pushing the sweaty hair off of his temple before capturing his lips into a kiss. Ominis squeezed you as tight as he possibly could to his chest. You couldn’t help grinding against his softening dick, coating it with the slick that had begun to seep through the crotch of your panties and run down your leg. The Slytherin hissed between his teeth, grabbing your neck lightly and pulling you away. You chased his mouth and he chuckled.

“I can’t decide if you were sent here to save me, or kill me.”

He could feel your chuckle against his palm. “Why can’t I do both?”

He hooked one of his legs around yours, using the leverage to flip you over and press your back against the floor. Your mouth dropped open in pleasure from the feeling of his fingers tightening around your larynx. Ominis chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up against where his thumb was on your pulse point.

“Oh, you like that? We’ll explore that more text time, I think.”

Next time. You liked the sound of a next time.

He ghosted his hand down your chest, grabbing at your still clothed breast and kneading the flesh, and it was your turn to whimper. Ominis wasted no time reaching behind you and struggling with the clasp of your bra, curses falling from his lips in annoyed desperation. Just as you were about to help him, he retracted his hands and instead wrapped his hands around the band, growling in frustration.

“Blasted thing—”

With a hard yank, he ripped the fabric of your bra and tossed it across the room into some unknown corner. You opened your mouth to protest when he crashed his lips to yours, pawing at your now free breasts and drawing little whines from your chest.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

The pretty blond kissed down your neck, leaving a scattering of bruises like you did to him before making his way to your heaving chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and tweaking it with the tip of his tongue. You ran your hands through his hair in utter bliss, soft hums breaching the space around you. He let go of your peak with a sinful pop, drawing your attention to him as his other hand slid down to the waistband of your panties. Ominis pressed a kiss above your heart, letting his finger run along the underside of your final piece of clothing and listening to your breath hitch. That vulnerable look was back in his eyes.

“I want to return the favor. Please, please let me taste you.”

His sweet words were making your head spin more than the firewhiskey ever could. You made a noise of affirmative, not trusting your voice at the moment, and thread your fingers through his hair again. It truly was as soft as it looked. The blond smiled, his grin full of teeth and like he had just won the lottery, before he kissed his way down your stomach, stopping at your underwear and mouthing hotly at your hipbones. You whined in impatience, and he laughed against your skin before taking the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs, kicking off the rest of his clothes in the process. Your breathing got increasingly shallow as he threw your legs over his shoulders, his lips pressing against the skin of your inner thighs and biting darker hickies in a spot no one else would see. He got closer and closer to your throbbing center, inhaling your heady scent and nearly losing his last little bit of composure. He looked up at you though his eyelashes, gazing at you like he could actually see how disheveled you were.

“I need you to tell me what to do, can you do that?”

You nodded, pulling lightly at his roots. He bit the mound of skin above where you wanted him.

“Words please, dove.”

You swallowed thickly. “Y-yes, I can do that.”

He smiled, turning your words from earlier back on you. “Good girl.”

A loud mewl spilled from you as he licked a hot stripe along your folds, the tip of his tongue catching on your clit and painting your vision white. He pulled back with an agonized groan.

“You’re so wet, my darling. Did I do this? Merlin, help me.”

He dove back into your sacred place, lapping at you like a man in a drought. You directed him to the best of your ability, telling him what spots made you see stars and the perfect rhythm to make you come undone. He was a quick learner, and soon you were writhing under him in the throes of pleasure. He had his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves atop your privates, flicking his tongue every so often and sucking as his fingers teased your entrance. Whimpers of curses and his name streamed from your chest like a waterfall. Ominis carefully pressed one of his fingers into you, giving it an experimental thrust in and out, and your back arched off the ground in a desperate attempt to get closer as your thighs clamped tightly against his ears, suffocating him in your sweet center. You were a siren, and he was but a simple sailor entrapped by your hypnotizing song. What a lovely way to die.

Groans of satisfaction sent vibrations through your entire body, dragging you closer and closer to your release.

You keened feebly, begging the boy making you feel this good— for what, you weren’t sure. “Please, Ominis—”

He groaned again, and the knot in your lower stomach got impossibly tighter as he pressed a second finger into you and curled, pressing his fingertips into that delicious place that you had never been able to reach when you were alone in your dorm room. Incoherent whimpers screamed from your throat at the sheer bliss that flowed through your body, your hips wiggling sporadically as he scissored his fingers and prepared you for his length. One particularly hard bit of suction on your clit had you tumbling, your orgasm rocking through you like a speeding bullet and sending blinding fireworks through your brain. Ominis smiled as he worked you through your finish, proud of himself for making you cum on the first try. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up from between your legs and crashing your lips together in need. You could taste the saltiness of your slick on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slipping through your folds and sliding slightly inside. You both groaned at the feeling, your fingernails digging into the blond’s shoulders at the minute sting. Ominis pressed his forehead to yours, trying to steady his breathing and heartbeat and whispered against your lips.

“Are you sure you want this, my love?”

You nodded your head, a plea slipping out. “Yes.”

He moaned at how needy you sounded— needy and cock-drunk for him. He kissed you, spilling all of the love he felt for you into it.

“Please tell me if you want to stop; I don’t want to hurt you.”

You huffed, “Why would I ever want to stop?”

You both moaned loudly as he breached your walls, pushing his hot member into your equally sweltering core inch by inch. Your eyebrows scrunched together at the pressure, and Ominis kissed the pain away as he got deeper and deeper. Finally he bottomed out inside of you, and you both stilled for a moment to get used to the feeling. You had never felt so full before, it was like he was touching every part of your body at once. Everything was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough. The blond dug his fingers into your hips as he warded away his encroaching orgasm; he didn’t want to finish before he could even savor the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. You squeezed his shoulders, giving him the signal that he can start moving, and he began thrusting in and out of you at a carefully slow pace. It was like nothing you had ever felt before— the pleasure was immeasurable. How people weren't doing this every second of the day, you weren't sure. You craned your neck down to were you both were connected and you couldn't help the harlequin moan that ripped from your throat. Whatever you were doing before this moment in your life was a waste— every moment not connected to Ominis Gaunt was an absolute waste. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing him deeper inside of you and drawing a growl from Ominis’ very soul. He picked his speed up as his orgasm crept up on him again, needing to feel you finish around him more than anything.

"Merlin, you feel so good around me— like you were made to take my cock."

His uncouth words went straight to your core.

Your mewls and moans filled the room; he was glad the Undercroft was so far under the school, lest someone would have definitely heard your screams of ecstasy. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, definitely leaving bruises that will only get darker the next day, and slammed his hips against yours. His own wanton moans sang along with yours as the knot in his stomach tightened. You could feel how close he was from the stutter in his rhythm, and you reached your hand between the both of you and rubbed at your clit, pushing your own finish closer to the surface. In a rush of animalistic desire, Ominis leaned forwards and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, giving you the last push you needed to spill over the side of the precipice. Your orgasm crested over the edge, dyeing your vision a stark black as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You squeezed impossibly tighter around the blond’s thrusting cock, sending stars to the forefront of his mind for the second time that night and causing him to speed up his thrusts even more, chasing his own orgasm as you milked the life from him. His hips grew sporadic at the feeling of your tight cunt swallowing him whole, bringing his finish just out of reach. He panted against your shoulder, holding you against his chest as he whimpered.

“W-where do you want me t-to—”

You cut off his sentence, the throes of your orgasm still shocking through your system. “Inside me. Please, Ominis, I want to feel you fill me— I’m on the potion— Fuck, please!”

That was enough to send him over, his orgasm crashing over him like a tsunami as he spilled his life force deep inside of you. He thrust a few more times inside of you, prolonging his bliss before he stilled, both of you heaving air into your lungs like you would never breathe it again. He rolled off of you, dropping his whole exhausted body weight to the floor and pulling you against his chest. You rested there for a moment, basking in the glow of your first time and listening to the rapid pulse of the blond’s heartbeat. It sang to you a sweet lullaby, lulling you to sleep in the comfort of your lover’s arms. Ominis sighed, completely content for once in his life.

“I have wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Your head shot up in shock, your jaw dropping nearly down to your chest. “You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?!”

His eyes widened at your shout, processing your words for a moment before a blush spread down his neck again. He brought his hand up to his face, covering it in embarrassment as he laughed at how stupid the both of you were. You joined him after a moment, your head bouncing up and down against his vibrating chest. Once your cackles pittered off to soft chuckles, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple and running his fingers through your hair.

“I guess we need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shuffled your body upwards, dangling your face over his and bringing your lips close for another sugary kiss. “Indeed we do.”

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #smut #hl smut #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt #ominis hogwarts legacy #masterlist

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 6 months ago

Text

Aftermath au: Red Letter Day

Barney gets a call that Gordon Freeman had been found after ten years of being missing in action.

Word count: 4382

Notes: Another fic for my au "Aftermath" because I think its neat. I'm not sure what else to put here, enjoy the fic

Barney was beginning to remember how much he hated Winter as he stared through the warehouse window in front of him. Despite it being the beginning of March, spring was yet to come, meaning the snow was still falling with the temperature following suit. Barney had always hated the season, and as much as he tried, he could never come up with a proper reason. Maybe it was the fact it was cold, wet, and dreary, making any trip outside miserable, or perhaps it was the fact he was mainly cooped up inside all day, leaving him to get cabin fever. Or maybe it was a mixture of those two at the same time, along with the loneliness that came from them. No matter the reason, Barney kept quiet about it, realizing he had no ability to change the weather. All he could do was drink his hot coffee and put on a few more layers than usual.

Barney took a sip from his mug as he looked away from the window, instead focusing his attention back into the room he was in. It was a storage room, full of random junk and scientific doodads Barney had no knowledge of. Boxes and crates were stacked up in piles taller than he was, stacked in such a way that it made Barney nervous even being near them in the case of them toppling over. Due to the lack of a radiator in that room, it was even chillier than the rest of the refurbished warehouse, making Barney glad he was wearing the warmest sweatpants he could find in his closet, along with a worn out grey hoodie, with the logo on the front being so faded that it was hard to make out as Black Mesa’s logo.

As he looked around, he was startled by the sound of a box slamming against the concrete floor, along with a short exclamation. “Oh, blast it!” “You alright, Doc?” Barney asked the other man in the room, watching as he bent over to pick up the fallen crate.

“I’m fine, just…hoping whatever was in here isn’t fragile…”

Dr. Isaac Kleiner, or “Doc” as Barney referred to him as, was wearing a white lab coat over a robin-egg-blue dress-shirt and black tie, trading warmth for safety at his place of work. His glasses were slipping off his face as he moved boxes and rummaged through everything in the storage room, making it even more of a mess than it was before.

“Where on earth could she have gone?” Kleiner asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. “There aren’t any vents she could have crawled in, are there?”

“I hope not,” Barney stated. “Last thing I want is that thing to fall on someone.” As Kleiner looked under a table, Barney spoke up again. “You think it ran off or something?”

“Oh no, I don’t believe so,” Kleiner stood up straight, “I’m sure she wouldn’t. After all, she needs to get fed eventually, so I imagine she’ll come out for that.” “If the thing didn’t eat someone's cat or something.”

“Hush!” Kleiner held a finger up to his mouth, causing both he and Barney to become silent as he listened closely. Barney attempted to hear what Kleiner was listening for, but to no avail, hearing nothing but silence. “Fie! I could’ve sworn I heard her moving around…”

Barney let out an exhausted sigh, “Doc, please, there’s plenty of those pests out there–”

“But there’s only ONE Lamar!”

“...Right.”

“Now, are you going to help me look?” Kleiner adjusted his crooked glasses, “Or are you going to simply stand there, doing nothing?”

“Uh…” Barney glanced away, thinking for a moment. “...No thanks.”

“Oh, you act like she’s some kind of wild animal.”

“It kinda is.”

“She’s been de-beaked and trained, and you know this!” Kleiner stated as he walked towards a filing cabinet near the corner of the room.

“‘Trained;’ I don’t think that thing is really…trained. My dog is trained, and I know you can train cats, but I don’t think you can train a literal parasite–”

“Oh! I think I’ve got something!” Kleiner said excitedly, “Help me move this cabinet, would you please?”

Barney reluctantly approached the metal cabinet as Kleiner positioned himself to the side of it, ready to move it as soon as Barney was. As soon as Barney placed his free hand against the side of it, he pushed, with Kleiner on the other side pulling it towards him.

Barney let out a loud yelp when something leaped at him from behind the cabinet, causing him to fall on his back and drop his mug on the floor. It was Lamar, the “Pet” headcrab that Kleiner had lost, and it was even uglier up close. As it laid on Barney’s chest, its six small, beady eyes stared back at him as he remained absolutely still, afraid of it trying to attack him. Its teeth on its stomach prodded at his stomach, along with its chipped, large front claws, which had colorful duct-tape covering the tips of them to prevent them from being too sharp. After a few moments of tense silence, Kleiner came to the rescue, picking up Lamar from where it rested on Barney’s torso, allowing him to take a breath.

“LAMAR!” Kleiner exclaimed, looking at his pet with relief in his eyes, “Oh, delightful! I’m so happy to see you weren’t left out in the cold somewhere…”

“Mm-hm…” Barney lifted himself off the ground, looking at his feet to see his knocked over coffee cup, with its contents spilled over. “Ugh…”

Barney picked up his cup from the floor as Kleiner let Lamar go, watching as it waddled across the floor before jumping up onto one of the tables. Barney stared at it with contempt, the opposite reaction to Lamar’s rediscovery compared to Kleiner’s joy.

“Do you even have a license for that thing?” Barney questioned as Lamar sat down on top of some loose documents. “If you don’t and animal control finds it, they’ll kill it–”

“I’m…in the process of getting one,” Kleiner stated, voice stumbling slightly. “And I hope no one finds her, cause if they do…I’m afraid of what you said coming true. I’m sure it will be fine regardless, at least she knows to stay inside.”

“...Sure.”

“Is everyone safe?”

Barney and Kleiner turned towards the doorway that led to the rest of the warehouse, seeing a lone, albino Vortigaunt staring back at them with her four maroon eyes. She was wearing a similar lab coat to Kleiner’s, with a borrowed pair of black dress pants, along with a fitted light brown sweater, with a hole in the middle of her chest for her third pseudo arm. She stared at Kleiner and Barney for a little while before Barney answered her question.

“Yeah, we’re fine…” Barney sighed, glancing towards Lamar, “We just found Kleiner’s…pet.”

“Everything’s under control, Violet, you can get back to work!” Kleiner added.

“I see.” Violet’s gravelly voice seemed quieter than usual, making Barney’s brows furrow a bit.

“You alright?” He asked.

Violet seemed puzzled. “Hm?”

“Are you doing alright? I have noticed you’ve been a bit…closed off for the past few hours.” Kleiner inquired.

“We have been…distracted…” Violet responded. “I imagine it will be cleared up soon.”

“We?” Barney asked.

Violet didn’t answer. “I must get back to helping the others…the teleporter is nearly ready for its first test...”

“Oh! Wonderful. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Kleiner stated as Violet left the room. Barney remained puzzled, looking back at Kleiner with a feeling of unease in his chest.

“She said ‘we’.” Barney stated.

“I’m aware,” Kleiner responded. “You see, the Vortigaunts are able to tap into something they refer to as the ‘Vortessence’, and are thus all conne–”

“I know, Doc, I just…” Barney paused for a second. “If she’s talking about all the Vortigaunts, then wouldn’t that be a bit worrying?”

“...Maybe, but I'm not sure.” Kleiner stated. “Though, one of the members of the survey team we sent earlier today was a Vortigaunt, and that team hasn’t returned yet so…maybe there is a connection there.”

“Maybe.”

“Either way, I believe i’ll go and speak with her, just to make sure everything’s alri–”

Barney’s phone ringing from his pocket interrupted their thoughts, and when Barney pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open, he saw the number was from one of his coworkers at the hospital. “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“You’re fine, you go ahead and I’ll go check in with the others.”

Barney nodded, watching Kleiner leave the room before he answered the call and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

Barney listened closely to the person on the other end of the phone, barely processing what they were saying.

“What’s going on?

Not going to believe what?

So what, why are you telling me this?”

Barney listened closely, all before he felt his heart skip a beat. The sinking feeling in his chest was enough to render him silent, all before he let out a meek “I’ll call you later.”

Barney rushed out of the room, running past Kleiner in the process, nearly pushing him over as he approached the exit. “Barney? What’s going on, are you alright–” “They found him.” Barney’s voice shook as he spoke, with him barely being able to make out the words from how tight his throat was.

“Found who?”

Barney was already out of the building by the time Kleiner asked the question, leaving it unanswered.

Barney saw his own breath clouding in front of his face as he sprinted across the parking lot of the warehouse, nearly slipping on ice multiple times but not giving any time to care. When he reached his car, he swung the door open and crawled inside, starting the engine and speeding off without a single word. His thoughts ran through his head faster than his car was capable of going, slurring together without a single cohesive thought coming through. He didn’t care if he was a few miles above the speed limit; he needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. He needed to see if what his coworker said was right.

If it was truly Gordon Freeman that was brought into the ER, he needed to be there.

When Barney made it to the hospital lot, he rushed through the front doors, looking around before approaching the front desk, out of breath from both the physical and mental strain that was put on him. Through harsh breaths, he asked, “Is Gordon Freeman here?”, with pleading eyes focused on the woman behind the desk.

“Oh, hello Mr. Calhoun, I can look through the system for a ‘Gordon Freeman’, if you’ll sit tight for a moment.” She looked towards the computer in front of her, typing in something and looking through files as Barney waited, his impatience building up inside of him.

“Fuck this.” He pushed himself away from the desk, storming down one of the hallways despite the woman at the front desk telling him he wasn’t allowed to as he was off duty. Barney rushed past hospital workers, asking them if they knew where Gordon was, only to be met with worried and frightened looks along with no answers. Barney’s frustration only grew as he ran through the hospital halls, with the familiar building beginning to feel like a maze meant to confuse him. As he ran further into the hospital wing, he slammed against one of the doctors in the hall, causing him to topple to the ground as Barney tripped over his own feet.

“Sorry, I just have to–”

“Barney? What the hell are you doing back here?” The man questioned as Barney sped past him.

“I’m looking for Gordon Freeman,” Barney answered, turning around. “Have you seen him?”

“He’s in the ER right now,” The man snapped back as he slowly stood up. “You can’t see him until he’s out of surgery.”

“Surgery? Is he safe? Is he alright?” Barney questioned, walking closer to the doctor.

“Yes, he’ll be fine, just…” The doctor let out a tired sigh. “Get out of here, you’re off duty and risking your job with a stunt like this.”

“I need to see Gordon, alright?” Barney explained. “He’s been gone for a fucking DECADE, and he’s been found again, I can’t just leave him–”

“Calhoun.” The man raised his voice as he glared at Barney with a look of both contempt and pity. “...Listen, just wait until he’s out and I’ll see what I can do, do you understand?”

Barney remained silent for a moment, letting out a sharp breath before nodding. “Alright,” He stated, defeated. “But he better be getting the best treatment in there.”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, they understand his reputation–”

“I don’t care about his reputation, if i’m right, that’s my goddamn friend in there.” Barney spat. “...Let me know when he’s out. I need to at least…make sure it’s…the right guy.”

“I’m sure someone will let you know.” The doctor stated. “...Now please go back to the waiting room before I call security.”

Barney did as he was told, reluctantly walking across the hospital premises and back into the waiting room, where he will stay for another few hours. He paced around the room, bounced his foot up and down, fidgeted with his hands; anything to try and pass the time as the minutes passed by agonizingly slow. After he had already been there for what felt like days within the timespan of a few hours, he saw a nurse walk towards him. “Mr. Calhoun?”

Barney’s head lifted up, looking towards the nurse before following her down a hallway. After a couple-minutes walk, they stopped in front of a door leading to a recovery room. “He’s in there,” The nurse stated. “He’s currently sleeping, so I ask you to be quiet and not attempt to wake him up.”

“...Yeah.” Barney hesitated before walking through the door, stepping into the room, seeing a curtain blocking his view of the bed. He paused, standing in place for a moment as he wondered if the face he was about to see was truly Gordon, or simply someone mistaken as him. He wondered if he wanted the answer, or if he’d rather live in ignorance, avoiding the crippling disappointment if it wasn’t the man he thought it was, but as he walked past the curtain, every worry in his mind ceased and his thoughts became silent as he looked at the man on the bed.

Sure, his body was covered with blood-soaked bandages, his right leg was in a cast, he had medical equipment around him, and he was missing his glasses, but his face was painfully recognizable. Barney choked back a sob, covering his mouth when he saw Gordon’s face again.

“Are you alright?” The nurse behind him asked, noticing Barney’s teary-eyed look.

“I’m fine.” Barney whispered before letting out a short chuckle and a forced smile. “It’s just…he didn’t change a damn bit.”

Barney hadn’t even noticed it had been an hour since he entered the room, being surprised when he glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing 10 PM. He sat on a chair beside Gordon’s bed, having moved it from the corner of the room to right beside it. His leg bounced up and down as he looked at Gordon, all before lowering his head and letting out a deep sigh. He wished to speak to him but he was out of words he could possibly say at that very moment, not to mention the wish to stay quiet so Gordon could recover without being woken up. He wanted to tell Gordon everything that had happened in his absence; how Kleiner started up another lab to continue Black Mesa’s studies, how Eli also set up one on the other side of the city, and how Barney had finished college and was able to become a nurse. Gordon missed so much, and even though Barney wished to dump every piece of information onto him, he realized that even the realization that it had been ten years would be overwhelming enough. Thus, Barney figured to start simple, and just talk, like friends, for the first time since the Black Mesa incident.

As Barney leaned back into his seat he felt the back of his head hit something that wasn’t there before, feeling bitter cold yet organic at the same time, like a corpse’s fingers curling around the top of the backrest. He swung around, half expecting someone to be there, yet he saw nothing of the sort, seeing only the beige wall behind him. Barney let out his breath, looking back at Gordon before realizing he should head back; his stress and emotional state must have made him paranoid, not to mention the feeling of his hair standing on end. He stood up, walking towards the door out of the room before taking one last look back at Gordon before he finally left.

Later that night, Barney paced around his living room, being watched by his pet rottweiler as he talked on the phone. “The Survey team were the ones that found him?” he asked.

“That’s what they said,” Kleiner stated from the other side of the line. “The Vortigaunt was apparently the one that found him, specifically.”

“I see.”

“Quite Miraculous,” Kleiner continued, “The fact that Gordon had survived there for ten years before being found.”

“Yeah…” Barney unsurely stated under his breath.

“Nevermind that, what are you planning now?” Kleiner asked. “Should we have some kind of party? A celebration should be in order for him being back, I’d say–”

“I think he needs rest, he’s…been through a lot.” Barney stated. “I’ve thought of him staying over at my place until he can find a place of his own or until he recovers, but we’ll see how he’s feeling.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure we can find a spare room in the lab for him.”

“I dunno if he’d wanna live in a loud lab with a headcrab, doc.”

“...I suppose you have a fair point.”

“It was just so…strange.” Barney stated. “They say it was a ten year coma, but I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it at all.” “What makes you believe that?”

“The fact he was bleeding. The fact he had fresh wounds from Black Mesa,” Barney elaborated, brows furrowed and his free arm crossing over his chest. “Not to mention the fact he was found with that…suit on.” “What kind of suit?” Kleiner questioned. “Oh, do you mean the Hazardous Environment Suit?”

“Yeah. Why would he be wearing it ten years after the incident was already over?”

“Who knows,” Kleiner sighed, “I’m sure I can talk with Eli to see if he has any ideas on–” Kleiner was interrupted by a loud crash and squeaking coming from behind him, audible through Barney’s phone. “Goodness gracious, LAMAR, NO–”

“You alright Doc?”

“I’ll have to speak with you later, Lamar got in the vents again–Lamar get DOWN from there, that’s not safe!” After that, the call ended, and Barney was left to himself once again. Barney sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket before he heard a deep ruff coming from his dog, who was laying next to the couch in the living room, with its white patches of fur on its snout showing its age.

“You hear that, Gordon?” Barney said. “You might get a new roommate…a…different Gordon.”

The dog yawned and rested his head on his paws as Barney walked towards the living room couch, sitting on it and resting his feet on the coffee table in front of it. He leaned over the armrest, scratching the top of the dog’s head. “Guess I’ll have to explain to him why you’re also named Gordon, huh bud?”

Gordon didn’t respond, instead just letting out a soft ruff again. Barney leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling before folding his hands on top of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining why his pet was named after his friend, he realized. After all, it’s not very easy to tell someone you thought they were dead for years.

As soon as Barney received the call that Gordon was awake the following evening, Barney rushed back to the hospital to visit him once again. As he drove across the city, worries he didn’t think about before began to creep up inside his brain. Even though he didn’t necessarily believe the coma theory the doctors had, nor did he believe even they believed it fully, he thought of the possibility of it being true, and if Gordon would even remember who Barney was after a full decade of sleep. It would be a surprise if Gordon remembered anything after that amount of time, but Barney pushed down his pessimism, trying to be optimistic just this once.

After making his way down the hospital hallway once again, he found himself back in front of the door to Gordon’s room, with a nervous feeling deep in his gut as he prepared to walk inside. He took in a breath and stepped inside, looking towards the bed in which Gordon was laying on, only to have his gaze met by two bright green eyes, ones Barney hadn't seen since ten years prior. Barney froze in place, staring back at Gordon, who appeared to be surprised to see him. As Barney sat down in the chair beside the bed, he swallowed hard, wondering what he could possibly say now that Gordon was awake. As he thought to himself, a question left his mouth that he wasn’t initially planning on asking:

“Where were you?”

The question lingered in the air like a foul odor, with Gordon’s brows furrowing lip quivering slightly, all while he curled his hands into fists. He turned away from Barney, looking down at his feet, thinking of something to say, though his hands didn’t once lift up to sign a single word.

“You…disappear for 10 years without warning,” Barney continued. “Leaving everyone to believe you were dead.”

Gordon didn’t make eye contact with Barney as he spoke.

“I thought you were dead and buried somewhere, Gordon,” Barney choked. “But…You’re here in front of me now.”

Gordon glanced at Barney before he felt arms being wrapped around his shoulders, tight, but not too tight to make it hurt.

“I fucking missed you, Gordon.” Barney said as he hugged Gordon, feeling the gesture being returned to him. Gordon’s hands shook, feeling weak and cold, yet he didn’t want to let go of the single shred of kindness he had felt since what felt like eternity. After a few moments Barney let go, sitting back down with red, tear-filled eyes.

“...You…missed a lot.” Barney stated; Gordon nodded knowingly in response. “I’d tell ya’ everything, but…I don’t even know how to start.”

“Are they safe?” Gordon’s hands were shaking, but Barney could make out the message regardless.

“Who, like…Kleiner? Eli?”

Gordon nodded slightly, lips pursed in anticipation.

“They’re alright,” Barney assured, allowing Gordon to let out a breath. “In fact…they’re excited to see you again. Kleiner especially, he’s hoping to get you back into his lab…don’t know if you want to do that, but the offer’s there.”

Gordon appeared to have had a weight lifted off his shoulders at the news, but the cold yet somber gaze didn’t leave his eyes. Barney planned to tell Gordon that they were among the few survivors of the Black Mesa incident, but he bit his tongue for the time being.

“...Never thought you’d be in the history books, did ya?” Barney let out a lighthearted chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You’re a hero in everyone’s eyes, now.”

Gordon shook his head, looking down and away from Barney’s gaze as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Barney stared at him with a look of confusion and worry, all before forcefully clearing his throat.

“I’m just…happy to see you alive, Gordon.” Barney stated. “After…a few years I began to…to lose hope.” Barney paused for a second, realizing Gordon was still not meeting his gaze. “...Should’ve known you were a tougher son of a bitch than that, I guess.”

Gordon scoffed slightly before shaking his head again, still staring at his feet. Silence fell as Barney attempted to think of something else to say to ease the tense atmosphere, though his thoughts were blank and void of any ideas. Barney looked towards Gordon yet again, seeing he was raising his hands up to sign something:

“Missed you too.”

Barney smiled slightly, despite feeling as if he wanted to cry right then and there. He never anticipated he’d be this emotional in his life, yet here he was; about to cry for the second time that day. Seeing his legally dead friend after ten years of being missing in action was enough to warrant it, he supposed.

“I’m sure the others will be happy to show you everything they’ve been working on,” Barney said, with Gordon finally looking back up at him, before looking directly behind him, “They’ve been working on a new telepor–”

Gordon flinched, staring at something behind Barney before attempting to crawl backwards, nearly ripping off his IV in the process. Barney looked behind him, seeing nothing but the wall before he heard a loud thud coming from the bed. He turned, seeing Gordon had fallen off of the bed and onto the cold linoleum floor. “Gordon!” Barney quickly ran to his aid, holding out an arm for Gordon to grab, lifting him off of the floor. When weight was put onto his right leg, Gordon grimaced, using Barney as leverage as he was put back onto the bed. “Jeez Gordon, what got you freaked out so ba–”

Barney was silenced when Gordon hugged him without warning. Barney could hear him quietly sobbing into his shoulder, and as he returned the hug, he wondered if he had ever seen Gordon so touchy before; It was as if he hadn’t had human contact in days. This time however, Barney wasn’t quick to let go. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his best friend behind again.

Not this time.

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