#i: sebastian x willow

[thenightmareofyourdrems]

               ˜”*°•.      A  small  laugh  came  to  follow  Willow’s  words .  ❝ And  defintiely ,  not  arrogant  at  all . ❞  He  teased   -  something  the  lighter  filling  the  air ,  something  the  nicer .  It  was  good .  To  be  able  to  breath  at  times ,  to  be  able  to  get  lost  in  taunting  remarks  and  childish  gossipy .  He’d  missed  it .  Missed  the  times,  when  his  little  club  was  his  mere  concern .  When  hanging  out  with  his  classmates  and  laughing  was  a  daily  routine .  But  it  could  become  the  same  again .  The  moment  the  trials  were  finished ,  the  moment  the  cure  was  found ,  his  life  could  once  again  go  back  to  the  way  it  was .

❝ I  will  keep  it  in  mind .  Thanks . ❞  He  offered  an  honest  smile  -  the  story  unsettling  perhaps , and  yet -  it  changed  nothing .  He  needed  Apple  -  and  whether  she  was  dangerous  or  not  was  barely  of  an  importance  at  the  moment .

It  was for  a  brief  moment  that  he  didn’t  dare  to  speak .  The  shock  creeping  into  Willow’s  face,  however  concealed,  still  palpable .  He’d  never  felt  it  -  never  felt  the  pain  of  the  Unforgivable  Curse .  He’d  heard  Ominis  talking  about  it  -  the  despair  he’d  felt ,  the  death  he  would  have  preferred .  How  was  he  supposed  to  tell  Willow  ?  Tell  her  that  he’d  been  the  one  to  cast  it  on  her  ?    Apple  might  have  chosen  to  sacrifice  herself ,  yet  he  hadn’t  tried  to  change  her  mind  not  even  briefly .  ❝ One  of  Rockwood’s  loyalists .  He  was  merciless .  ❞  The  lie  slipped  out  -  voice  soft,  reassuring  even .   Maybe  foolish  had  it  been  -  to  deny  the  truth ,  hide  behind  some  pathetic  story .  But  what  was  he  supposed  to  say  ?  That  they’d  been  getting  more  and  more  involved  into  the  Dark  Arts  ?  That  he  was  pushing  Apple  to  follow  ?   ❝ Just ...  don’t  bring  it  up  to  her ,  please .  You  trusted  me  with  these  stories ,  I  am  trusting  you  with  this .  I  think  she  needs  time . ❞

And  yet ,  Willow  spoke�� as  if  she  knew  -  her  fear  much  greater  than  of  someone  who’d  just  read  about  it .  ❝ I  know  it’s  not  my  place  to  ask ,  but  ...  has  it  ever  been  cast  on  you ? ❞  Perhaps  a  rather  intrusive  question  -  and  yet ,  it  was  the  truth .  He  didn’t  understand  -  couldn’t  realise  the  effect  of  his own  actions ,  of  the  all  too  thoughtless  decisions . (@veiledsorrows)

    " I get told that a lot~ But then again, it's why I was picked as a prefect anyway~ " Willow boasted, nudging his shoulder with her own - trying to make the conversation a bit more lighthearted. She couldn't imagine what the lot of them were going through, only ever given small portions of the story. And that was how the sisters cared for each other, by hiding the ugly parts of themselves and lying.

    " I'm telling you because Apple is a bit obsessive at times and this is the first she's ever wanted to pursue someone, much less two people. You and Mr. Gaunt are special to her, somehow. Call me a protective sister, but I just wished to let you know so you can understand why she always keeps everyone at arms-length. "

    Then her blood ran cold. No - not an Unforgivable... The Dark Arts was a slippery slope, but Willow couldn't have imagined her sister getting involved. Her naive younger sister - her first year into the wizarding world. The Hufflepuff was aware of magic due to Willow, but she was shielded as well.

    The silence thickened, heavy with unspoken shock at his words. Her nails dug into her palms, a rising anxiety taking hold though her expression didn't dare expose it. " ...Oh. " Why had Apple told the Sallow boy but not her own sister? A question left for later. " ...I get it now... That's why she's been so quiet... Mr. Sallow, I don't think you understand how horrible a pain that curse is. Pure torture. Some turn loony. " She kept her voice hushed, a taboo topic she knew it to be.

    " Who did it? Who would do that to a child? You need to tell me, Sebastian. She's my sister. "

[viennakarma]

Wreck my plans (that's my man)

Part 2 of Say Something

Lewis Hamilton x Reader | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Juggling a new life as a divorced woman, a toddler and maybe a new (old) love.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: Female reader, new love, a kinda asshole Lewis, co-parenting relationship, smut, oral sex (f receiving), a lot of spanish pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader, Ex!Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Notes: I know some of you wanted forgiveness for Lewis, and another bunch of you wanted Toto Wolff but I blindly opened the doc and these 4 thousand words just happened. If you really want an alternate ending (forgiving Lewis), drop something in my inbox and I might write a lil something for you ;)

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“Look, mama!” Luna pointed the little finger at the big poster of George Russell, “Uncle Joje!”

“Yep, that’s uncle George, my love!”

“And Dada! Dada!” She pointed to the next big poster, a big picture of Lewis wearing the team gear.

It was the first time you went back to a Grand Prix, in a little more than two years. And it was Luna’s first time ever attending. You and Lewis had a great co-parenting relationship, the world knew about Luna, but the Silverstone GP was going to be the first time she’d be seen publicly. You knew Lewis had hired the best security team just for this, and he had called you with a confident pep talk the night before.

As soon as the car stopped, you pulled Luna closer.

“Baby, stay close to mama, yes? We’re going to see Dada and Papa Anthony too, ok?”

Your daughter nodded but you knew she didn’t really understand, so you just smiled at her and opened the door. You could feel the flashes popping around the two of you, and could imagine everyone wondering what Lewis’ ex wife was doing there.

The bodyguards walked you and Luna over to the Mercedes’ hospitality. You found Lewis in the privacy of his little driver’s room.

“Dada!” Luna squealed as soon as she saw him, casual jeans and the team shirt.

You smiled, setting your little girl down so she could run to her father’s arms. Lewis smiled big, that one smile he only directed to his daughter. Lewis picked her up, kissing her face and hugging her.

“Hi, Lewis!” You greeted him with a side hug, since Luna was still in his arms.

“Hi, Y/N! Are you two ok? Was the trip here alright?” He asked, attentive.

“Yes, thank you. How is your schedule? You wanna stay with her a little?” You asked.

“Yes, I want to be with her. My dad’s at the hospitality too, he’s dying to see Luna.”

You gave him your daughter’s bag, with nappies, toys, drinks and snacks. You told him to call if needed, anything. Kissing your baby’s cheek, you left Lewis’ room to give them a little space and privacy.

Walking around aimlessly, seeing the energy flowing was kind of fun. You walked by Ferrari and greeted both drivers, who you had known back when you were married to Lewis. A good part of the grid had changed, but the few from before still recognised you and talked to you.

You were going back to Mercedes to check on Luna when you hit someone chest to chest.

“Oh, god! I’m so sorry!” You whispered.

“Y/N” he greeted you. You met the gaze of beautiful brown eyes, in an almost green kind of shade.

“Fernando! Hi!” You finally recognized the spaniard.

You had met Fernando the same night you had met Lewis, introduced by Sebastian and his wife after you created the project for their family home.

“It’s good to see you,” Fernando said, still holding your shoulder.

“You too.���

“I’m sorry about the divorce.”

“Uh, don’t worry. It’s been a while, Lewis and I are friends now.”

Fernando nodded, his eyes on your face. You stared at his eyes, trying to find something to say, to fill in the awkward silence.

“You’re just as beautiful as ever,” he whispered almost in a daze. You felt the blush creeping up your face.

“Thank you, you look handsome too,” you said, and you phone started ringing, you checked to see it was Lewis calling, “sorry, I gotta go,”

“See you around?” Fernando asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Fernando.”

You started walking away feeling butterflies in your stomach, like a silly teenager. You were walking but as you looked back, Fernando was still there staring at your distancing figure.

Fernando never forgot your pretty smile. He had met you so long ago, in a party hosted by Sebastian and his wife. Fernando had been enchanted by you, by the way your presence lit up the room, by how smart you sounded, by how clever you were. The problem was Fernando had gotten to the party late, and when he arrived, you had already met Lewis, fully entranced by the British man's charisma.

Fernando still had a silly crush on you when you were dating Lewis and he saw you around, but after you got married, he had forced himself to move on.

Now it felt like some sort of miracle, bumping into you again.

He didn’t lose any time. As he went back to the Aston Martin garage, he called someone.

It was a couple of hours later and you were by the Mercedes garage chatting with Anthony and keeping an eye on Luna who was running around with George and Lewis, greeting engineers and mechanics, enchanting everyone with her charm.

Someone wearing green came into the garage and everyone stopped, looking at the intruder from the Aston Martin team. The Aston Martin lady handed you a big bouquet of lilies and excused herself.

Every single pair of eyes were set on you and the mysterious bouquet. With your face red, you pulled the card, opening.

“Glad to see you again, hermosa. - Fernando”

You smiled, covering your face. On the back of the card was a phone number.

“Who’s that from?” Lewis asked and suddenly everyone was silent, tension rising up.

“Lewis,” you said between gritted teeth, “you’re making a scene.” Lewis seemed to realize everyone had an eye on you two, so you just turned to Anthony and said, “can you keep an eye on Luna for a couple of minutes please?”

After confirmation, you walked inside, taking your bouquet with you, and putting the number on your phone.

“Who’s it from?” Lewis followed you inside.

“It’s none of your fucking business, Lewis.”

“It is because you’re the mother of my kid.”

“Which means the only topic concerning you is our kid!” You whispered angrily.

“You’re dating, now?”

“Fuck off, Lewis!” You exclaimed, a surge of anger coming through your chest, “Don’t come at me all high and mighty now. You cheated on me, and I still let you be close to my daughter, and I still treat you with respect! I kept the secret of why our marriage ended to save your reputation and we only have a good relationship for her sake!”

You knew the words struck a nerve because his chest was heaving. You had been respectful to Lewis ever since the pregnancy because you wanted your daughter to grow up in a safe and happy environment. But that was where you drew the line.

“My life doesn’t revolve around you anymore.”

Leaving Lewis behind, you went to a room in the hospitality and managed to send a thank you text to Fernando.

You ended up accepting going on a date with Fernando after a few weeks of calling and texting. He ended up going to your place in Edinburgh for a cozy dinner, in a week Luna had gone traveling with Lewis for the summer break.

After the divorce you faced a lot of backlash from Lewis’ fans, even if they didn’t know any details, they still blamed you for breaking their idol’s heart. A few man had flirted with you here and there, but pregnant for nine months and then raising a baby after, you didn’t have the time or energy to find romance. Dealing with the aftermath of your divorce with a world superstar athlete had been something else.

So you had been living a low profile life, one that Fernando fully respected. He and you opted for cooking dinner yourselves, preparing a pasta dish with lots of pomodoro sauce and cheese.

He was easy to talk to. So openly into you, complimenting you, talking about how pretty and how interesting you are. The Spanish charm was so real and delightful, after years of feeling rejected. 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked, over a glass of wine while Fernando mixed a saucepan.

“Anything.”

“Why are you interested in me?” You sounded honestly confused. 

You were a divorced woman, with a toddler, still trying to figure out the relationship you had with your ex, and living under the radar after having your face plastered all over the media. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was really into you or if it was some sort of vendetta against Lewis. You knew that despite them being on good terms now, there’s history between them, and many layers of rivalry you weren’t privy to, since it happened long before they met you.

“Is this to get back at Lewis in some way? Because I’d like to manage my expectations if that’s the case.”

He understood why you would be guarded and suspicious of his intentions. Your last relationship had imploded in a way that he could only imagine left you devastated. It must look off, a known rival of your ex-husband sweeping in and showing romantic interest. But Fernando didn’t mind showing you his true intentions as long as you allowed him.

Fernando turned the stove off, and walked around the kitchen island, standing in front of you, so close he was almost between your legs.

“It has nothing to do with him because I have always been interested in you,” he whispered like a secret, seeing you confused frown, he kept talking, “remember the night we met? Lewis left early, we went to the garden, and sat down by the fountain. We shared a bottle of wine and a cigarette. Just me and you watching the sun rise.”

“Fernando…” you whispered back, remembering. Of course you knew about that, but for so long your life was entangled to Lewis, that the memory of that night was only attached to him in your brain.

But that had happened. You and Fernando had talked late into the night, chatting about life and the future, sitting barefoot on the grass, passing a wine bottle between you. Fernando didn’t flirt with you that day, he just chatted.

At the time you were so infatuated with Lewis already, that you didn’t see what was right under your nose.

“And for years after that,” Fernando gulped, looking a bit guilty, “I wondered if I had gone to the party earlier, if I had met you first, wouldn’t it be me by your side?”

“You’ve been into me all these years?” You asked, shocked.

“I have been in love all these years.”

You held his face, pulling him into you, kissing him. He was shocked at first, but as soon as it wore off, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you flush into him. With the other hand, he cradled your head by the nape, his lips leaving your mouth, to kiss down your neck and nip at your earlobe, which had you moaning softly, melting against him.

“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he apologized, taking a step back.

You were panting softly as he stared at you, red face and lips, hair a little disheveled from his hand.

“Fernando,” you stood up, holding his hand, “come back here.”

You pulled him back, pressing your lips into his. He held you close, flush against his chest, opening his lips and deepening the kiss. You felt hot all over.

“I have dreamed about this, diosa.” He moaned into your lips.

“Can we-” you muttered between kisses, “can we skip dinner?”

You turned around to go back to the living room, hearing Fernando hearty laugh, and he immediately hugged you from behind, kissing your shoulder and neck. Finally making it to the sofa, you sat down. Fernando just knelt in front of you, pushing your dress up.

“Dessert first, sí?”

Laughing, you nodded, kicking your panties after he pushed them down your legs. Fernando bit into your thighs, and you moaned at the feel of his beard on your skin. With his head between your thighs, he mouthed you, licking a stripe into your cunt. Using a hand to open you up, he lapped your pussy like a man starved, pressing face, nose and tongue into your wetness. You had gone so long without another person, that now you were mushy under his ministrations. He still couldn’t get enough, so he put one of your legs over his shoulder, diving deeper, tongue over your clit and finger entering your cunt.

“Fuck, Nando. Too good, too good,” you gripped his hair, grinding on his face. He curled his fingers up inside you, finding your g-spot, making you shake, “I’m so close, baby. So, so close.”

He latched on to your clit, and you came hard, shaking, hips pressing into his face as you tried to come down. You were panting, breathless, as you came down from your high. Fernando stood up, sitting by your side, kissing you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and he held you.

You cupped the bulge in his pants, and he kept kissing you face gently, holding you in his arms like he wanted to never let go.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps arise in your skin.

You two stumbled to the bedroom, laughing as you pulled each piece of clothing off, tossing them to the floor. You were fully naked by the time the door closed behind you in the bedroom.

You didn’t actually lay in the bed, since Fernando made you keep one foot on the floor and pushed your other leg on the mattress, leaving you open for him.

“Dios, I want to keep you in this bed for days until I have tasted all of you, cariño,” he said, running a calloused hand up and down from your back all the way to your butt, pressing his fingers over your cheeks, making you moan.

“Nando, please fuck me, just- I need you, please,” you begged, feeling the way he lined his cock to tease your entrance but not actually putting in, just coating himself with your wetness.

Then finally, he pushed inside, slowly, your walls pulling him in a perfect tight grip. The two of you cursed as you adapted to the feel of him inside, of having someone fucking you for the first time in years.

Fernando started fucking you softly, and you let him manhandle you as he pulled you back to stand up, your back against his chest, one of his hands snaking around your middle to keep him pressed to your backside and the other hand cradled your face by the jaw, forcing you to look ahead.

“Mírate, cariño (look at you, dear)” he whispered, making you face ahead, finding the full length mirror on the other side of the room, you could see perfectly, Fernando fucking you from behind, his sweaty face above your shoulder, your tits bouncing with each snap of his hips and his hands claiming your body like you were a fucking masterpiece, “you look so pretty taking my cock.”

You looked at the mirror, his hand keeping you up like a toy and he started pounding into you, and you could only moan his name as you felt the orgasm buildup, you threw your hand back, holding his head and pulling his hair and your other hand down to your clit as his thrusts became harder and slower. You felt yourself clench around him, coming hard as he whispered in your ear.

“Oh, you feel so good, hermosa. I bet it feels so good coming around my cock does it not?” He talked you through your high.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Please, baby.” You moaned and that did it for him, and you had him cumming with a couple of sloppy thrusts.

You two fell on the bed, breathless.

“Goddamn, Nano, you’re going to ruin my life,” You whispered.

“I’m happy to be of service,” he joked and you ended up laughing out loud, him accompanying you with a few giggles.

You two showered, and then dressed in robes, ate dinner on the living room floor, sharing the wine straight from the bottle just like the first time you met. 

After talking for what felt like hours, he took you back to bed, feasting on your cunt until he pulled two more orgasms from you, and then fucking you slowly. Mouth on your nipples and a hand keeping your hips high as he fucked into you. You held onto him for dear life, fingers tangled on his soft hair and kissed him whenever he gave you the opportunity. He worshiped your body like you were the only woman to ever exist, intense eye contact and praising you every step of the way.

The next morning you woke up naked, spent and happy. You barely had the time to feel Nando’s absence in your bed when he entered the room, carrying a big tray with breakfast.

“¡Buenos días!” He greeted you with a peck and set the tray in front of you. There was coffee, juice, toast and cheese.

“Buenos días, baby” you said, lazily taking a sip of coffee, “this is nice. I’ve never been surprised with breakfast in bed before.”

“You deserve it, you took me so well last night, hermosa.” He kissed you quickly again, and you blushed because of his words.

You kept eating when he went to the opposite side of the room to take a phone call. You spoke intermediate Spanish because of work, but you didn’t pry in his conversation, instead focusing on recharging your energies.

“Duty calls?” You asked as he came back. He only nodded, which made you a little sad, “well, I was going to ask you to stay the weekend, but I understand you’re busy.”

“I’ll cancel my plans.” He shrugged.

“No, no, you don’t have to.” You said quickly, feeling guilty for messing with his schedule.

“Do you want me to spend the weekend?” He asked softly. And you just nodded, not wanting to be the cause of him getting in trouble with work. “Then I’ll spend the weekend.”

He immediately got into a phone call again, and from what you could gather, he was rescheduling his commitments for the next week.

“Why did you do that?” You reprimanded him, but deep down you were kinda giddy because he was going to stay the weekend.

“You’re a priority, not a second thought.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. “Besides, I’ll never say no to spending more time with you, cariño.”

Throughout the next six months, you and Nando kept in touch and met here and there whenever Lewis had Luna over. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend when you spent a week with him in a secluded villa close to the beach in Spain. It’s not that you didn’t want Fernando to meet Luna, but you two were still figuring out your relationship and you didn’t want to introduce them and in case he ended up not sticking around for the long run.

“Are you sure?” You asked him suddenly one night when you two were cuddling on the balcony, staring at each other and at the sky.

“Sure of what?”

“Are you sure you wanna be with me, Fernando?” You asked absentmindedly, running your palm up and down his back.

“Yes, I am sure.”

“Why, though? I come with a kid and a lot of baggage?” As you said the words, Fernando pulled your hand and kissed your palm, putting it against his cheek, looking into your eyes.

“Because I want you.”

“Even with all the complications? Even if we never find a way to go public?”

“I don’t mind if I have to spend the rest of our lives reassuring you. I’m with you because I want you, simple as that” he said with his serious voice and thick accent, as a lump stuck on your throat, “I’m not with you because of what you look like by my side or what you can do for me. I’m with you because I love you.”

Your tears fell down and Fernando caught them with his lips, kissing your cheeks and tears away. It was so good and so safe, you never wanted to leave his side.

“The rest of our lives, eh?” You giggled, “I’m not gonna lie, I like the sound of that.”

“Bueno. I like the sound of that too.”

“Gracias, Nano. Yo te amo y te deseo también. (Thank you, Nano. I love you and I desire you too)”

“Wait-” he pushed himself up, “you speak Spanish?”

“Sí, lo hablo. (Yes, I do)” You laughed out loud at his dumbfounded face, and he held your wrists up above your head.

“Todo este tiempo hablaste español? (All this time you spoke spanish?)” He clicked his tongue, “eres tan mala y te voy a castigar. (You're so bad and I'm gonna punish you)”

You squealed as he carried you back inside, tossing you on the bed.

Eventually, you made up your mind about telling Lewis. Not because he had to know, but from a standpoint that he should know for the sake of Luna. So you stopped him one day when he came to drop off Luna.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” You asked after greeting your baby, “Luna, why don’t you take your new toys inside while Mommy and Daddy chat a little?” You watched your girl run inside, “Careful! The porch is slippery!”

“What happened?” Lewis asked, putting both hands on his pockets.

“I’m seeing someone.”

Your words made his stomach drop. The dreaded day had come. Lewis had noticed how you looked happier and healthier than before, how you were wearing more makeup and pretty stylish clothes. The other day you had a mysterious tan on your body when he came to drop Luna off, way too strong tan for Scotland, anyway.

You are one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, he found it a miracle it took you so long to find someone. Maybe deep down Lewis thought you two could mend your relationship.

“Who?” Was all he said.

“Fernando.”

“Fernando?” He frowned, “who’s Fernando?”

“Alonso.” You bit your lip, waiting for an explosive reaction, but Lewis went silent, thinking.

“I can’t believe this. He’s just using you to target me, can’t you see?”

“So that’s all you see me as? An object? A ploy crafted to only be used for you or against you?” You asked, crossing your arms defensively.

“That’s not what I mean! He’s- he’s evil, you know that!” Lewis bared his teeth, getting angrier by the second.

“I don’t. That’s not how he is to me.” You shrugged.

“Do you have any idea how messy this will look when it comes out? Are you ready to face the consequences of this stupid adventure to get back at me?”

His words made you raise your walls, defensive, that sounded dangerously like a threat. You remained collected, because if Lewis wanted to go low, then you’d go lower.

“I’ll let this one slide, but it sounded dangerously close to a fucking threat,” you started, your voice so cold it sent shivers up his spine, “This had nothing to do with you. Nothing. But if this information leaks, I’ll know who did it. And if you do this to damage my image to the world or try and force my hand into leaving him, then everyone will finally know why we divorced, and how the other woman kept harassing me while I was pregnant!”

“What?” His expression dropped. 

He didn’t know because you didn’t tell him, because after a few months of mockery and threats through texts, you changed your number and it stopped. You still had the screenshots though.

“Luna will always be my greatest priority, and I love my baby girl. But my life has revolved around hers ever since I was pregnant, and before that my life revolved around you,” you felt a lump in your throat, eyes watering, “can I have this one thing for me? Is it selfish wanting to be loved?”

“I do. I love you.” He said, his voice wavering too.

“No, you don’t.” You shook your head, “you loved the idea of someone living solely for you. You loved that I was there during the good and the bad, picking up the pieces when you were down and popping the champagne when you were up. You loved that I loved you.”

You looked back, where Luna was calling you from the door.

“I am with Fernando now, and as Luna’s parents, I just didn't want you to be blindsided,” you turned around but looked at him over your shoulder, “don’t go ruining my future a second time.”

He flinched before your words. You knew it would cut deep, but you were tired of that conversation and his entitlement to your life and decisions.

A few weeks later, you introduced Luna to Fernando, and to your surprise, they got along so well. Probably because he bought her a lot of presents. She liked his presence most of the times, despite feeling jealous sometimes when he hugged you or kissed your cheeks.

When you and Fernando made it to a one year anniversary, you two adopted a kitten who had been abandoned by the road. Luna fell immediately in love with the pet, which found home with you. For Christmas, Nando’s gift to Luna was to install a swing and a see-saw on the garden, which ultimately made her completely enchanted by him, asking him to play all the time whenever they were at your place at the same time.

You were sitting on his lap while Luna played with the cat, throwing toys around.

“How would you feel about a baby?” You asked him. He straightened up, searching your eyes.

“Are you pregnant?” He sounded shocked.

“Of course not, tonto! (silly)” You giggled, “I’m just- mulling over the idea, wanting your opinion, you know.”

“Yes, I want more kids if you want too,” he said honestly, his hand softly caressing the side of your hip.

“Mhm,” you nuzzled into his neck.

“Your question came with good timing, you know, I have been thinking,” he mumbled, thinking, “Do you want me to retire?”

“What? Are you insane? You love racing, it’s like- it’s in your blood! You know I do-”

“That’s not what I asked,” Fernando interrupted you, “I asked if you want me to retire? We could move in together, spend more time together, I could move here.”

“You’d drop your sunny and warm Spain for Scotland?” Your voice was laced with doubt.

“I’d drop anything for you, don’t you see?” He lowered his voice, closer to your ear, “besides, we could always go back and forth here and Spain. I’d do it if it means I get to make love to you every day, and wake up by your side every morning.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks were deep red.

“You love it.”

“That I do.”

“That sounds tempting but I could never ask you to stop racing, it’s literally your favorite thing!”

“You are my favorite thing.”

“Fernando…” you whined and he laughed.

“Ok, let’s meet in the middle, sí?” He proposed, kissing your cheek, “if you get pregnant, I drop everything. Meanwhile, we let things run their course as it is, ok?”

“That’s perfect, mi amor” You laid back on his chest, watching Luna playing.

Headcanons | Another universe…

[vroomvroommuppett]

one

sebastian vettel x oc

masterlist

new taglist (please fill out)

kofi

still taking requests!

a/n: most of the face claim will be dianne buswell, but some will have to be non red heads to please bear with me.

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

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astonmartinf1

liked by willowbuswell, lance_stroll, and others

astonmartinf1 We are so excited to announce that 5x glitterball champion on BBC's "Strictly Come Dancing", and F1 enthusiast, Willow Busell, will be joining us for Silverstone.

tagged: willowbuswell

fan1 she's beautiful

willowbuswell thank you! i cannot wait!

lance_stroll Can't wait to meet you!

fan2 SHUT UP MY TWO FAVORITES COMING TOGETHER

fan3 i had no idea the f1 enthusiast i follow is the same person as a dancer

jensonbutton Can't wait to see you again!

fan4 jenson and willow know each other?? willowbuswell same uncle jenson!

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willowbuswell posted a story

[thank you @.astonmartinf1 for the invite!]

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tag list: @lady-laura-speaks @d3kstar @stupid---person @raizelchrysanderoctavius @magical-spit @nichmeddar @novelswithariana @ilivbullyingjeongin @barcelonaloverf1life @sya-skies @formulaonebuff @nikfigueiredo @woozarts @thescooby-gang @norstappenvibes @ietss @magnusstan @yukimaniac @fall-bambi

[butternutt613]

So I had this idea for a cutesy, little cowboy!Sebastian x southern bell! Ominis, but then I was like what if Sebastian doesn't meet Ominis right off the bat but rather little glimpses here and there and thinks that he's being haunted?

And then I was like, what if Ominis was murdered and it turns into a murder mystery?

And then yall voted for Ominis to turn into a ghost in that poll...

So now we're here:

Introducing just a little snippet (may or may not become a full fic) ~1200 words

Under The Weeping Tree

TW: MCD, blood, death, murder, idk what else to tag, let me know if I missed something but yeah this is not a light fic

~~~~~~

Sebastian couldn’t see his hands in front of him. Couldn’t tell if the ground beneath his feet was stone, dirt, or nothing at all. The darkness pressed against him, thick and stifling, seeping into his lungs with every shallow breath.

Somewhere in the distance, a scream ripped through the air. Sharp, raw, the kind that clawed its way out of a throat and left only pain behind.

He moved, or he thought he did. Each step felt unsteady, the ground shifting beneath him as if he was moving through quick sand. His boots sank deeper with every motion, the earth clinging to him, dragging him down.

A voice broke through the stillness, trembling and scared. “Please! I didn’t mean to-”

The words shattered into a wet, choking gasp that made Sebastian’s stomach clench.

Sebastian’s head snapped toward the sound, but the shadows swallowed any semblance of shape and twisted them into nothingness. His pulse thundered in his ears as he squinted against the night, searching for anything that made sense.

Another unsteady step forward. If it was even forward. His foot slipped, and the ground gave way beneath him, loose and wet, like flesh beneath his boots.

“Please,” the voice whispered again, closer now.

Sebastian’s stomach twisted as his feet sank deeper into the earth. He tried to move, but the ground wouldn’t let him go. He couldn’t tell if it was the mud, the shadows, or something far worse.

The glint of metal sliced through the darkness, rising, suspended in the dark, and then…

A sharp, wet sound tore into the silence. A sound like flesh splitting open.

Sebastian’s chest tightened as he gasped, his breath hitching. The air around him grew hotter, thicker, reeking of blood and decay. His boots slipped again, the ground beneath him swallowing him further, and still, he pushed forward.

A pale hand reached out from the void, trembling, streaked with blood, grabbing at Sebastian.

“Help me,” the voice rasped in his ear. It was a wet, garbled sound, words bubbling up through a viscous liquid.

Sebastian turned toward the sound, but the shadows swallowed everything once again, leaving only faint glimpses. The glint of metal. A flash of pale skin, streaked with something dark and glistening. Pale, hazy eyes.

His legs moved on instinct, dragging him forward, though he couldn’t say why. His boots slipped on something slick, and he reached out, grasping for balance, but his fingers found only air.

He tumbled. Down. Down. Down.

The ground hit hard, knocking the air from his chest. He lay there for a moment, the damp earth seeping into his clothes, clinging to his skin. The air was heavy. Earthy, metallic, suffocating.

Sebastian pushed himself up on trembling hands, his fingers sinking into the cold, wet dirt. He tried to wipe them clean against his trousers, but it clung to him, sticky like it didn’t want to let go.

In the faint light of a pale, waning moon, he looked down. It wasn’t just dirt between his fingers. It was something darker. Thicker.

Blood.

His breath hitched as he scrambled back from the pool that had gathered beneath him, soaking into the ground, staining his knees. It glistened in the dim light, trailing upward, carving a path upwards like a crimson river.

His gaze followed the stream, and his stomach lurched. On the hill above him, under the canopy of a massive willow tree, two figures struggled.

The willow loomed over them, its branches twisting like outstretched hands. The figures moved erratically. One pinned to the ground, limbs flailing, while the other bore down with brutal, unrelenting force.

A blade caught the light, rising high, and fell with a wet, sickening thud.

Sebastian gasped, his heart racing, his body frozen. The sound of the blade cutting through flesh rang in his ears, each strike sharper and wetter than the last.

“No!” The word ripped from his throat, and he ran. He didn’t think, didn’t pause to wonder what he was doing. His body moved on its own, feet scrambling up the slippery, blood-slick hill.

He stumbled, his boots sliding out from under him as he clawed at the dirt for purchase. The mud clung to his hands, his knees and boots. He slipped again, landing hard on his side. His head spun, but he forced himself up, his breath coming in frantic gasps.

He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t running far, far away. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, to flee, but something stronger pulled him forward. He had to make it. He had to stop this.

He had to save him.

Him?

The thought shot through Sebastian’s mind, but he couldn’t stop to question it. He scrambled forward, his nails digging into the dirt as he dragged himself toward the struggling pair. His hands sank into the blood-soaked earth, the coppery stench thick and nauseating, but he kept climbing.

The blade rose again.

“No!” Sebastian screamed, his voice breaking. “Stop!”

The attacker paused for just a moment, its shadowed face turning slightly toward Sebastian. But then it shifted and disappeared into the darkness. The blade clattered to the ground, sticky with blood, its sharp edges glinting in the moonlight.

Sebastian reached the top of the hill, his chest heaving, his knees buckling beneath him. His eyes darted wildly, searching the shadows, but the attacker was gone.

All that remained was the boy.

He was lying in the dirt, his limbs splayed awkwardly, his pale chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. Blood pooled around him, soaking into the earth, trailing down the slope in dark streaks.

Sebastian froze, his breath caught in his throat. The boy’s face turned slightly toward him, his pale, sightless eyes glazed and unfocused, but somehow still looking at him.

Sebastian dropped to his knees, the world blurring around him. “No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he crawled closer. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

But he wasn’t.

The boy’s throat was torn, the jagged wound gaping and raw. Blood bubbled from his lips with every shallow breath, his body convulsing weakly as though trying to fight off the impending darkness.

Kneeling beside him, Sebastian cradled the boy gently, his shaking hands sliding beneath the boy’s head to lift him from the cold, soiled ground. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the streaks of blood on pale skin.

The boy’s lips parted, but no words came, only a faint, gurgling sound.

“You’re going to be okay,” Sebastian said again, his voice cracking as he pressed his hand over the wound. Blood poured from between his fingers, unrelenting. “Just hold on, please. Please.”

The boy’s chest hitched, his breath rattling, and his icy, blood-streaked hand trembled as it rose. Slowly, his fingers brushed against Sebastian’s cheek, smearing blood as he caressed his skin.

Sebastian leaned into the touch, his tears falling faster, his heart breaking as he watched the boy’s life slip away.

“I’m… sorry,” the boy's voice hitched, barely more than a whisper, choked and wet. “Stay away… don't-”

His hand fell away, landing on the earth with a dull thud.

“No, no, no!” Sebastian sobbed, clutching the boy’s lifeless form to his chest. His tears fell onto the boy’s pale skin, but they couldn’t warm him, couldn’t bring him back. Couldn't bring life into those moon like eyes.

The air was heavy, silent, save for his quiet sobs and the faint rustling of the branches above.

And then, in the stillness, he felt it.

A shift in the air. The faintest breath of movement.

But before he could turn, the world plunged into darkness.

~~~~~~

Heheee I love you (*⌒３⌒*)

Let me know your thoughts and if I should continue this

[stargazer-sims]

A-Z Challenge: List your sims in order, trying to complete the alphabet

I was tagged by @someone-elsa - thank you!

—————

À - Alexander, Anya, Artie, Aubrey, Aidan (a.k.a. Senjirō), Akari

B - Beth-Anne, Brett, Belle, Ben, Bonnie

C - Caroline, Camellia, Clancy, Chance, Charlie, Chloë

D - Davian, Dylan, Derek, Dash, Davey

E - Eden,Evie, Elena, Ellie, Elliot, Emma

F - Félix, Fox, Forest, Felicity, Frankie (x2)

G - Grace, Ginger, George, Grey, Garrett

H - Haru, Hope, Hana, Hennessy

I - Iryna

J - Julian, Junior, Ji-Soo, Ji-Hyun, Jordy, Juliet

K - Kenji, Kinai, Keiko, Kin, Keigo, Kayley, Katie

L - Leo, Laila, Lindsey

M - Mishka, Mike, Mohammad, Maël, Matsu, Mariah, Min-Jae, Midori, Mercy, Maxan

N - Nikolai (x2), Natascha, Nora

O - Olivier

P - Pixie, Peace, Praise

Q -

R - Rei, Ryu, Ryota, Rowan, Rainbow

S - Seiji, Sachiko, Sarah, Stephen (x2), Sebastian, Sofia, Sunny, Sri, Sophie

T - Takahiro, Takashi, Tae, Tatsuhiro

U - Victor’s chihuahua is called Mr. Universe. Does that count?

V - Victor, Vika

W - Willow, Winter

X -

Y - Yuri

Z - Zahir, Zainah, Zira, Zach

—————

I’m only missing Q, U and X. I think that’s pretty good 😆

I’ll tag @dandylion240 @cawthorntales @changingplumbob @holocene-sims @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants @abbysimsfun @enniewritesathing @igotsnothing @nakasumi-sims … and anyone else who wants to do this!

As always, participation is totally voluntary. Only do it if you feel like it. 😊

[hogwarts-legacy-hype]

yeah you know who I am, this is incredibly niche and specific but I simply needed to gas up the girlies who helped contribute to the crackship that is Sebastian Sallow x Henry Winter (of 'The Secret History' fame).

Many wonderful chats and calls have been had, and I've made some real friends from all of this insanity ❤️

- @slytherizz for being the very first person to delight in the idea of Seb and Henry getting hold of a time-turner and meeting Julius Caesar, thus eventually spawning the Willow Extended Universe. Supreme Mugwump for Willow headcanons, Greek island aficionado, lover of Scottish lochs, and of Big Murder Men.

- @xantineverdoer for sheer rabidness, far-reaching headcanons, Pinterest wrangling, voracious smut, gut-wrenching angst, and Henry Winter theorycrafting. Producer of snippets that formed the nexus of current Willowshipping.

- @ravenbronze for her incredible 80s AU art, including the iconic Sebastian Sallow-in-short-shorts. Managing director of Seb's closet, and in charge of his Walkman.

- @writing-intheundercroft for fantastic snippets, sublime "what ifs," tantalising headcanons, TikTok mining, Pinterest scouting, and the pivotal phrase "linen is for ripping."

- @kaidynsarell for her absolutely delicious angst, including a version of post-Azkaban Sebastian and Henry Winter, who learned Magical Law simply to get his bf out. Reading it felt like being born anew.

- @just-another-fanfiction-writer for bursting into chats, dropping amazing emojis and then riding off into the sunset ;)

- @cuffmeinblack for sharing her incredible Donna Tartt shelf, and being our resident Abergaunt and Francis Abernathy enjoyer.

- @adylorewrites and @peanutslore for providing bemused support and encouragement from the sides, and for reminding us that, yes, from the outside we are all completely insane.

❤️❤️❤️ (I believe I've caught everyone but please slap me if I haven't!)

✨Love Crackships✨

[bakersimmer]

A-Z Challenge: List your sims in order, trying to complete the alphabet

I started with the Millers and then filled in the other letters with other sims I've made.

PS! I'm using my local alphabet, and my goal is to name the next Millers strategically to fill in all the missing letters 🤪

A - Alder, Aloysia, Apollo, Aries, Ash, Astrid, Astro, Atlas, Autumn

B - Birdie

C - Clover

D - Daisy

E - Eira, Echo

F - Fern, Fleur, Forest

G - Greta

H - Hazel, Heather, Holly

I - Iris, Ivy

J - Jamie

K - Karl

L - Lavender, Leo, Lilac, Lily, Liilia, Lumi, Luna

M - Marigold, Maru

N - Nico

O - Oliver

P - Primrose

Q - x

R - Raven, River, Robin, Rosemary, Rosie, Rowan, Ruby

S - Saffron, Sage, Sam, Sebastian, Sorrel

Š - x

Z - Zara

Ž - x

T - Tormi, Tuule

U - x

V - Violet

W - Willow

Õ - x

Ä - x

Ö - x

Ü - x

X - x

Y - x

[swcctcrbittcr]

his eyes watch willow, smirking as she smiled at him, taking on the challenge. this was exactly what he wanted, a girl who could please him, but would always push back in her own way. it made things more interesting. "oh i can baby." his hand brushes over her cheek as she drops to her knees, already worshipping his hardening cock. "you look so pretty down there willow." and with that he logs on, his boys already rowdy in the voice chat as the game starts. "you fuckers are going down today." he winks at willow as he down, sucking in a small breath her lips press against him, eyes pleading with lust as he meets the gaze. "perfect yea?"

willow's eyes gleamed with anticipation, locked onto his until his gaming system regained his attention. and truthfully, he was correct. time will only tell when she'll grow bored and crawl her way back into arms, but he wasn't the only one who didn't shy from a challenge. she had a few tricks up her sleeves that she'd been aching to use on the perfect playmate. her eyes remained still on his frame as if he was sizing up for the best opportunity to seize control. and seize control she did. "you wanted a challenge? then here it is," she whispered, beginning to move with purpose, palming his cock through his pants with playful curiosity. "let's see if you can keep up." she inched closer, hands gripping his thighs, nuzzling her nose against his pants' fabric, inhaling deeply. she could already smell his arousal, heating her blood and making her nerves tingle with desire. her lips grazed over the imprint, and she felt the warm throb beneath them. a soft moan slipped out, and she tried to meet his gaze again, wanting to see the desire deepening in his eyes.

[j-eryewrites]

Come Home

MAIN MASTERLIST

Pairing: (Ominis Gaunt x Reader)

Song: Willow Tree March by The Paper Kites

Concept: What if Ominis’ aunt didn’t die in the Scriptorium and instead left the Gaunt family? What if Ominis went to go live with his aunt in America?

Author’s Note: Starting to finally calm down in my busy life and have a little bit of time to write. I had this idea while listening to the song and I couldn’t help but write it. Ominis, my poor baby, deserves to be happy so I wrote a fic where he does get to be happy. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

It had only been a few months since he left. Ominis Gaunt in all his magnificent glory was taken away from his rotten family to live with his aunt in America. Of course, Sebastian and I were overjoyed for him for we knew the true harshness that came with being a Gaunt. Ominis was a kind and gentle soul, so undeserving of his family's cruelty and hatred. So, it made complete sense as to why I should be happy for him. His aunt who was just like him was alive. His only loving and caring familial relation was alive and well and wanting to save him from the very family she ran from. Yet…I believe that Sebastian, Anne, and I were Ominis’s family. We kept him safe and sane all those years. I held him in the undercroft. We laughed with him and played the horrific game of gobstones. Hogwarts was our home, and we were a family, but now he’s gone. 

I remember that fateful day we all saw him off to America. His leather suitcase in hand and hair styled so neatly that no matter how many times I ran my fingers through it it would never change. I knew I’d see Ominis again. I knew we’d write every day, but he was my family and he was leaving. I’d no longer see him next to me in History of Magic dozing off or have his companionship when I went to raid the kitchens late at night. No longer would Ominis dawn his Hogwarts uniform, but instead dawn the one of Ilvermorny. He was going to make new friends. He was going to make a new family. And just as I knew we’d always be friends, he’d move on because that is what happens with life; It moves on and so do you. 

So that’s what I tried to do, move on. Of course, moving on worked just like that day we had blast-ended skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures. Sebastian knew I wasn’t faring well without Ominis, but I knew he was hurting just the same. Natty tried her best to cheer me up. We’d go for walks in the forbidden forest or grab a butterbeer or two from the Three Broomsticks. Poppy comforted me in her own manner and in doing so my collection of rescued magical creatures grew. Yet no matter how much butterbeer I drank, flights over the castle I took, or magical creatures I rescued, the hole Ominis left could never be filled. 

I almost began to think that the hole would never be filled. 

_____

“No Garreth, you aren’t listening. You’ve got to give each of the mallowsweet plants three drops of the water and fertilizer mixture,” I chuckled as I pushed myself onto Garreth’s station. My legs swung back and forth and I observed the red head’s careful measuring. He may have a reputation in potions, but I refuse to let that reputation bleed into herbology. 

Garreth gave me a hearty laugh as his hands carefully distributed the mixture to the mallowsweets. 

“Good,” I smiled before patting him on the head. 

“Merlin, Y/N,” Garreth said, “I’m not one of your puffskein.” Garreth set down the mixture before sending me a smirk. 

“Well, if you're not a puffskein, then why does your hair look like one. Don’t you see how puffy your locks are?” I fluffed up Garreth’s hair and styled it to look exactly like the small furry creatures. 

“Hey, hey not the hair,” Garreth whined. 

“ Sorry, forgive me, good sir,” I sarcastically said, “I don’t want to ruin your chances with Miss Imelda Reyes.”

Garreth rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know that I am not infatuated with Imel–”

It was a strange occurrence. One moment I’m teasing Garreth until his ears turn pink and the next it’s like I’ve lost my breath. My heart clenches and leaps forward and my hair stands up. My ears are no longer listening to Garreth as the voice in my mind grows louder and louder. 

Run. Run. Run. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Garreth asked.

I look down at Garreth. “He’s here,” I mutter. Snapping out of my daze, I jump down from the desk. “Garreth, mind taking my stuff back to the common room for me? I have to–I just–I’ve got to go.” 

I don’t give Garreth time to respond before I’m out of the herbology classroom. I vaguely hear Garreth and Professor Garlick calling after me but my mind, heart, and soul are tuned to the sound of another song: he’s here, he’s here, he’s here. 

The halls of Hogwarts pass me by as I dash down the stairs and across the stone floors. With nothing in my way, my legs take me farther and faster. It’s as if I’ve drunk a potion of speed. The beat of the song grows louder the longer I run. I have no clue where I’m running, but I know where to go. I’m going to him wherever he is. 

_____

“Don’t go,” I whispered. My hand is in between his cold palms. 

“She’s my family.” Ominis said the words like they were law. 

“What about Sebastian, Anne, and I?” I asked. “I thought we were your family.”

Ominis opened and closed his mouth while his milky white eyes darted around. “It’s not the same.”

“But it is. You are my family. Please Ominis. I’ve already lost Professor Fig and almost lost Sebastian. I can’t lose you too.” I began to cry. I am not sure why, but I always seemed to cry in the Astronomy tower. 

The stars were beautiful that night as Ominis tried to comfort me with vague promises. My hands were no longer in his, but now clutching his robes with an intensity I never knew I had. It was if I were to let go, he’d disappear. When I did let go the next morning, Ominis did vanish. He stepped on that boat and was gone. 

_____

The cobbled stone of the pathway beneath my feeling echoed the sound of my boots. The early afternoon autumn sun beat down on my figure, inducing a sweat on my brow. Lacewing flies buzzed to the side as the faint sounds of the forbidden forest chirped in my ears. 

Odd looks passed my way as I darted between wizards and witches promenading along the road. Nothing was going to stop me from where I was going–where I needed to be. 

Soon I passed through Hogsmeade. The smells of candy and butterbeer crept into my senses. Each experience reminded me of him, of where I was running.

As the song grew louder, my feet ran faster, and my breath grew heavier. As I run, I can’t think of a time when I ran this fast without my life on the line. I ran too much during my 5th year at Hogwarts. I ran from goblins, poachers, and villains. I ran from myself and those I loved. I ran and ran and ran. I hated running yet here I was running once more. But this time I was running to something. I was running for something. 

The song grew quiet. The urge to run faded. My feet stopped at the train station. Steam was still coming out from the head of the train. People stepped off and filled the station. My lungs heaved as I remembered to breathe. My eyes scanned over the crowd. I knew he’d be here. I believed. 

People dispersed as they found their loved ones. Kisses were exchanged and hugs were given to those reunited. Each scene made my heart yearn. More and more people left, the more I grew worried. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I ran for no reason. Maybe I ran here just to run away. Maybe in my delusion and aching, I cried out for Ominis when he couldn’t hear me. Maybe…

There was no one at the station anymore. My breath collected and the sweat on my forehead cooled. It was just me in my uniform and the train about to depart. He was supposed to be here. 

A noise came from behind me. It was either a cough or a grunt, I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to have misheard. My head turned around and there he was. 

Ominis with his dirty blonde hair and star-kissed face stood on the platform in front of me. His eyes were nervous as he held his wand in front of him. In his other hand held his luggage. 

For a moment neither of us said anything. I knew he knew I was there, just as I knew. I felt my heart skip and my face heat up at the sight of him. He was just as beautiful as the day he left. 

“Y/N?” Ominis whispered. It was as if he didn’t dare to speak aloud, scared to break the dream.

“Y/N, I’m–” I silenced Ominis with a hug. My arms squeezed tight as my head buried itself into his chest. Ominis’s luggage dropped to the platform and his hand now free wrapped around me with as much vigor as I hugged him. He was here. His heartbeat underneath my ear beating faster than mine. His breath was on the crown of my head. Ominis was home and now so was I.

“You’re home,” I cried into his chest. 

“I’m home,” Ominis soothed. “And I’m here to stay.” 

I pull back from the hug and give him a look of disbelief. “What about your Aunt?” 

Ominis chuckled. His foggy eyes float over my face. “All she asked for was my summer holidays. Other than that I’m yours. After all, Hogwarts is my home.” 

My laugh sniffles my tears of joy. “Well then,” I said, “Let’s get you back to Hogwarts. I’m sure everyone is intrigued as to where I ran off to. After all, I did run out of herbology to find you.” 

His eyes widened at my confession. “What about–”

“Doesn’t matter now that you’re here,” I smiled before locking his arm with mine. Once his luggage was back in his hand, the two of us left the station, loving smiles on our faces, hands held together with Hogwarts in our sights. 

_____

Taglist: @bartokthealbinobat

[blue--ingenue]

My Hero

Prompt: "Don't touch her!"

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

Pairings: Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Sebastian realizes his true feelings for his Gryffindor when they sneak out of the castle and are attacked by Victor Rookwood.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, swearing

See bottom for author's notes.

Despite what others in his year may say, Sebastian is rather academically-inclined, thank you very much. He's never been one to pass up an intriguing book or two (especially if it's from the restricted section), but no tome could hold a candle to the rush he feels from trying out a new spell for the very first time. The snap of his wand through the air as it matches the energy of the perfect incantation is intoxicating.

He and his Gryffindor decided to sneak out to practice new spells right after dinner. They’d found a prime spot in the form of the jobberknoll den overlooking the castle. His eyes drift to her, crimson robes sloped gently over her shoulders as she leafs through a book he borrowed from the restricted section. He focuses back on the task at hand. He draws his wand down, flicks his wrist in a flourish toward his target, and feels the familiar pull of magic sing through his body and rush out through his wand arm. "Impedimenta!"

The spell connects cleanly, striking the tallest bough of the willow tree before him. White light spreads from the center of the branch and hums through the rest of the tree as its movements stop almost instantly. He smiles and admires his handiwork. A few jobberknolls peek out from the newly-petrified branches and lock their beady eyes on him just before taking off with indignant twitters. 

"That ought to come in handy the next time we run into one of your poacher friends," he calls to her. To his left Sebastian hears rustling as she places a leaf between the pages of her book and places it on a moss-covered stump. 

“Useful indeed. Not bad,” she comments idly. Sebastian narrows his eyes at her and finds what he’s looking for. Almost imperceptible, the upturn at the corner of her lip lets him know that she’s baiting him. He doesn’t even think before taking it. 

“Is that all?” he drawls. She turns to face him fully, and wow. His lips decide that now is the perfect time to pull his faux wounded expression into an utterly besotted grin. He might actually be embarrassed at the level of effortless (and agonizingly to her,  unknown) control she has over him if he weren’t so busy trying to quell the blush that seems to hum through the very core of him. The moonlight shines against her onyx hair. Most of it has fallen out of the loose bun she’d wrangled it into with a ribbon and is framing her face like gentle vines about a wreath. She looks ethereal, silhouetted against the moonbeams and the glow of the castle behind them. 

She strides toward him, stopping just short of where he stands and looks up at him through fluttering lashes. “I’m sorry,” she says in a syrupy tone that lights a match somewhere deep within him. “Did you want me to say, ‘Oh, Sebastian! My hero! I may rest easy know that I’m in your strong, capable hands!’” she simpers. Though she jabs at him, there is only an easy warmth where the biting sarcasm should’ve been. She’s still gazing up at him when she crinkles her nose and smiles. He’s sure he’d readied a line from his well-crafted arsenal of witty comebacks. He could feel the words on his tongue, drawn back like a bow waiting to fire, but he smiles back down at her and all that tumbles from his lips is a breathless, “Yeah.”

She bursts out laughing at his change in demeanor. It’s a tinkling, melodic thing. There’s no pattern to it, but it’s as though the notes fall at perfect intervals,  just so, to create another beautiful harmony each time she pauses for breath. She punches his arm in jest, more of a pat than anything else, and looks back to the castle. 

“It’s gotten rather late. Should we be heading back soon?” she asks. Perhaps it’s just his hopeful imagination, but she sounds as reluctant to pose the question as he is to answer it. He likes spending time with her. Just the two of them. But then he sees her stifle a yawn and decides he’d rather like to see her get a full night’s rest for once. Heaven knows she needs it, what with the fate of the school seemingly falling onto her shoulders. 

“I suppose so,” he responds. “Wouldn’t want to risk missing curfew.” She rolls her eyes playfully and he sees a grin grace her lips as she gathers her things. He’s so intent on committing her silhouette to memory that he doesn’t notice there’s someone behind him until the tip of a wand presses into his neck. She glances up from her stack of books and freezes. In the same instant the books thud into the dirt she’s already whipped out her wand and fallen into a defensive stance. 

“Get away from him,” she snarls. Her voice is low and her gaze is lethal and Sebastian thinks, hysterically, that he likes this look on her. A familiar voice, self-assured and absolutely grating on his nerves, sounds behind him just as its owner presses the wand closer to his pulse point.

“I’ll say this only once: toss your wand to me or your sweetheart here stops breathing,” he spits. Victor Rookwood,the  sleazy bastard, doesn’t even have the decency to sound terrified in front of, arguably, the most dangerous witch on this side of the country. He holds her gaze.

“Run! Just get out of he-” he doesn’t get to finish. Rookwood drives a knee into his back so hard he falls to the ground. He feels his cheek scrape against a stone as he goes down, but before he can push himself up Rookwood has a fist in his hair and is pulling him to his knees. The wand tip is shoved painfully into the side of his neck in warning. He wipes a drop of blood beaded at his lip from where it had split on impact and meets her gaze. Without another word she turns a hateful gaze to Rookwood and tosses her wand a few feet to the left of him. 

“Good girl,” he purrs. Sebastian feels embers burn in his veins at Rookwood’s sultry tone and resists the urge to grab his wand and snap it in half. He freezes when he feels another presence behind him accompanied by a distinctly human hiss. The presence stoops down and sniffs, nose mere inches from the cut on Sebastian’s cheek. His Gryffindor moves as if to rip the thing away from him, but Rookwood stops them. 

“Patience now, Theo. Save it for her,” he tuts. She tenses, but remains where she stands. Theo straightens himself to his full height rather reluctantly and Sebastian sees the moonlight glint off of a pair of red-stained fangs. 

“You’re a vampire,” she breathes. Her voice is breathier. Not out of fear for herself, but for him, he realizes as she fixes Sebastian with a mixture of terror and relief. 

“Yes, stating the obvious. Quite like a Gryffindor,” Rookwood snaps. He sees a familiar blue glow swirl about her hands and knows that she wouldn’t need a wand to destroy both of the men behind him. She seems to pull the ancient magic from the very ground beneath her as the air hums and crackles. Sebastian has just enough time to wonder why the vampire looks the furthest thing from afraid when Theo is suddenly right behind her. One sickly pale hand fists in her hair and yanks her head back, exposing her throat. The other curls possessively around her front, locking her in place and Sebastian sees red. 

“Let her go!” he spits, throwing all his strength into trying to thrash out of Rookwood’s grip. A fist punches the air from his lungs and he sputters. Between gasps he can hear her thrashing in the vampire’s grip. The bastard holding him in place tuts.

“You’re hardly in a position to be making demands, Mr. Sallow,” he chides. He looks to his Gryffindor. Her chest is heaving with anger and exertion. Rookwood continues speaking, his voice laced with venom.

“Theo here has a very…rare gift,” he chooses his words carefully. “That ancient magic of yours could very well turn the tide in this little rebellion. Theo’s gift allows him to extract it from you. I promise it won’t hurt a bit,” he lilts. He sees her swallows and dips her head. She meets his eyes and she gives him a reassuring smile,  soft and sweet. Her demeanor shifts instantly as she steels herself, glares defiantly at Rookwood, and please, god, no-

“Do what you will. Let. Him. Go. And I’ll cooperate. I’ll do anything you want,” she grits out. He can only watch, chest heaving as he pulls in breath after ragged breath, as she bows her head in defeat. Theo’s fingers trail her exposed collarbone as he sweeps her hair behind her ear and Sebastian’s throat closes in unbridled rage. His voice is not his own when he thunders, “Don’t touch her!”

“Oh, you will cooperate. And you,” he hisses as he tightens his grip in Sebastian’s hair, “You’re going to watch.”

Her face twists in rage as Theo sniffs her neck, but she doesn’t fight it. 

“Oh, and I did mean it when I said this wouldn’t hurt a bit,” he mentions, seemingly as an aside. “It’ll hurt a lot.”

As the words leave Rookwood’s lips Theo seems to find what he’s looking for. Sebastian’s world narrows down to the point where his fangs pierce her skin. There’s not a rustle from the tree he jinxed a lifetime ago so he can hear them sheath into her flesh with perfect, horrible clarity. She doesn’t scream as Theo buries his head in her neck and sucks. The only sound she makes is terrified gasp and a strangled cry as he sucks the life from her veins. 

“Stop-please, please! Leave her alone!” he begs. He’s desperate, hysteric. He’d do anything in his power and beyond to take her place. Rookwood only laughs, and laughs, and laughs. He’s hyperventilating as he watches Theo drink the life from her. After every pull Theo takes a soft blue light pulses through her and fades as quickly as it came. He wants to look away. There are a million shrill voices screaming in his head and they’re all telling him to look away! but he can’t. Because she’s looking at him, really looking at him, as though she can see right into his heart and acknowledges a truth that even he can’t bring himself to admit, and smiles at him. His heart, every fiber of it belonging to her - always her - shreds itself to pieces as he realizes she’s trying to be brave for him. Damn Gryffindors. Damn their bravery, and their courage, and damn her for stealing his heart. For being beautiful and selfless, and damn the universe for gifting her with ancient magic only for it to be ripped right from her soul.

Her gaze is growing heavier. The intervals between the blue pulses of light are dragging, and even in the miniscule light she looks pale. She’s already completely limp in Theo’s arms, but it’s the sight of her eyelids falling shut that wrenches a strangled scream from his throat. He doesn’t know how long it’s been going on but his panicked mind wonders if there’s even any blood left in her at all. He tears out of Rookwood’s grip with inhuman strength, wrenches the wand from his hand, and casts the loudest confringo to ever singe the highlands. In quick succession Rookwood rolls away from the flames and apparates himself and Theo away. There’s a loud crack and then - silence. Just a grave, damning silence.

He scrambles to his feet and trips to where she lay, dropping to his knees and turning her on her back. She’s still. Too still.

“Oh god, god no…” he trails off as he gathers her into his arms. He presses two shaking fingers to her pulse point and feels nothing. A choked shout spills from his lips. His arm is propping her up and her head tilts back, exposing the too-pale expanse of her throat. He calls her name again, and again, and again. Her features are slack and her lips are tinged blue. Why are they blue? They’re pink. Always so wonderfully pink…he wonders hysterically. He gathers her in his arms, holds her close to his chest and bows his head. 

“Please don’t do this,” he begs. He pleads to her, to the universe, to anyone who will listen. “Please don’t leave,” he sobs. Tears streak down his face, but he doesn’t feel them. He’s so numb with grief that he nearly misses the faint huff of air that graces his cheek. He stills immediately, and when he feels another breath ghost his cheek he feels a giddy flash of hope ignite in his chest. He brushes the hair from her face and holds her head in his hands. Every muscle in his body is taught with anticipation. He gently cradles her and lets his forehead fall against hers.

 “Come back to me…” he sobs.

The universe holds its breath - and then answers in the form of a weak, but wonderfully alive, little cough from the girl in his arms. He pulls back and watches, in shock, as she fills her lungs with a gasp. Her brows furrow, her eyelids flutter, and in the second before she opens her eyes Sebastian’s world blazes back into existence with agonizing clarity. Her eyes drift in and out of focus before finally settling on him, and with her first breath whispers, “...Sebastian.”

A sob wracks his body and he allows his head to fall back toward hers. He holds her in his arms like she’s the most precious, fragile thing in the world, and presses a desperate kiss to her lips. If he could only cast a nonverbal spell once in his lifetime, it would be for this. He would imbue this single kiss with all of the things he’s been too afraid to say: I love you. I’m completely and irrevocably yours. I’d give anything and everything to make sure the world never harms you again. 

“...Sebastian,” she murmurs against his lips, an urgent edge to her tone that says she has something more to say. He retreats to listen. Impossibly, she’s smiling. She’s looking right into his heart as though he hung the stars in the sky.

“...My hero,” she laughs. He presses another kiss to her forehead and laughs softly with her. She was going to be okay. And Sebastian decided that as long as he had breath in his lungs, nothing would ever harm her again.

Author's Notes: This is my first time writing a character x reader fic lmao. I had fun writing the angst. If you want to see more of my work you can find me on ao3 (blueingenue). If ya'll enjoyed and want to see more, feel free to send me asks!

[slytherinlives]

I'm two years late to the party but here they are! The core four of my Legacy MC's. (there's two more but I wanted to focus on one from each house)

Kathryn Knight:

Kathryn is a half-blood witch who grew up in a small village in the countryside of France. Her mother Mary is a muggle florist and her father Theodore is a well respected auror within the wizarding community. For the first fifteen years of her life, Kathryn was considered to be non-magical by her father, knowing it was possible for children born of a muggle parent to not have magic. The summer she turned sixteen, Kathryn was helping her mother tend to their garden and got frustrated by a willow tree sapling not growing and a burst of magic flew from her fingertips, causing the tree to grow to full size. The incident caused gossip amongst the villagers and the Knight family moved to London, where she received her admittance letter to Hogwarts to start her fifth year.

You can read Kathryn's story here or here where you can follow along Kathryn's journey as she takes on her Seventh Year as a a Prefect, Hufflepuff Quidditch Seeker and the return of Sebastian and Anne Sallow as she tackles returning feelings and new mysteries.

(Sebastian x Kathryn romance)

(My other Hufflepuff MC Kallum Finchley makes cameo appearances as a beater for the Quidditch team, although he does not have the ancient magic ability for the sake of the story.)

Lyra and Lyle Grey:

Lyra and Lyle grew up in a whirlwind of life. Their mother Marlena uprooted them and their younger brother Luca from their home often, moving to various cities and countries and never staying in one place for too long.

Lyle is very protective of his twin sister, often scolding her for being reckless and putting herself in danger. He can be intimidating and stand-offish toward others, only showing warmth toward his siblings. Lyle loves learning new things and often holds the opposite view of his twin. He prefers to make calculated moves and often chooses more violent methods in a fight. Lyle is fiercely loyal to those he cares about but isn't afraid to be blunt and honest when needed.

Lyra thrives on new adventure and discoveries. She often gets herself into trouble due to her impulsive nature, which adds stress onto her twin brother. Lyra grew up as the only daughter in the family and her mother always scolded her for not being lady-like, often telling her she needed to behave more proper if she were to be wed one day. Lyra wants more for her life than a settled one, which puts her in conflict with her mother.

Their mother Marlena introduced a new fiancé to the twins that ended in a physical altercation, causing both of their magic to present as a means to protect the other.

You can read their story here or here as you follow along their journey of returning to Hogwarts for their sixth year, alongside their younger brother starting his first year. Lyra wants to learn more about the repository magic to help cure Anne Sallow, while her twin brother Lyle wants to open it as a means to protect his family.

(Eventual Sebastian x Lyra romance)

This is a multi pov story with most of the story taking place from Lyra's pov.

Jaina Cleary:

Jaina grew up in an orphanage with her older brother, who disappeared after his twelfth birthday. Jaina spent many years trying to find him but kept getting road blocked. She grew to be bitter and cold toward others and doesn't open up to them easily. Jaina isn't afraid to do what's necessary as opposed to what is right, which causes concern in others. Jaina is loyal to those she finds herself content with, and doesn't mind letting herself wind down and just be kid with them.

Jaina spent most of her life having to be a grown up and often gets annoyed by other children, but with her new friends at Hogwarts, she's slowly come to terms that it's okay for herself to be one sometimes too.

Her story is in the works, but may not come out for some time as I try to finish the others that I am way too behind on.

I hope you guys love them as much as I do <3

[kaidynsarell]

🤍OMG!!!! THEY’RE JUST SO PERFECT!!!🤍

Willow

Sometimes ya need a crackship in your life 🤷‍♀️

Dedicated to @diligentcranberry @slytherizz @xantineverdoer @writing-intheundercroft @kaidynsarell for all their Willow goodness and for feeding the obsession with TSH/Henry Winter/80s AU Sebastian/general insanity 🙃

(I promise I’m gonna draw some actual HL stuff again as well 😂)

[vroomvroommuppett]

two

sebastian vettel x oc

masterlist

new taglist (please fill out)

kofi

still taking requests!

a/n: most of the face claim will be dianne buswell, but some will have to be non red heads to please bear with me.

likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

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willowbuswell

liked by jensonbutton, sebastianvettel, and others

willowbuswell 🕷️🕸️

tagged: bbcstrictly

bbcstrictly 🕷️🕸️

jensonbutton How do you look good in every hair color??

user1 seb in the likes??

user2 still can't get over willow is jenson's goddaughter

willowbuswell lol you and me both jensonbutton Rude!

lance_stroll You should dye your hair green now.

willowbuswell no thank you. did it once and never again

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willowbuswell

liked by astonmartinf1, sebastianvettel, and others

willowbuswell hated the whiplash i got but loved this dance🕷️🕸️

tagged: bbcstrictly

bbcstrictly our spider

user3 seb in the likes again?

user4 he's been in the likes since she came to the race user5 i mean he's said in an interview she's his celebrity crush...

lance_stroll Amazing!

charles_leclerc You did amazing.

keoghan92 ❤️

willowbuswell no thank you

sebastianvettel So erstaunlich [so amazing]

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tag list: @lady-laura-speaks @d3kstar @stupid---person @raizelchrysanderoctavius @magical-spit @nichmeddar @novelswithariana @ilivbullyingjeongin @barcelonaloverf1life @sya-skies @formulaonebuff @nikfigueiredo @woozarts @thescooby-gang @norstappenvibes @ietss @magnusstan @yukimaniac @formulaal

[kaidynsarell]

20 Qs for fic writers

@slytherizz you're a gem. Thanks for the tag, darling

How many works do you have on AO3? Exactly 1. There may be more eventually, but for now, that's it.

What's your total AO3 word count? 36,549

What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy

Top five fics by kudos? Top 5? I have exactly 1 lol. So, here's to my baby: Sanguinis et Omnium Fractorum!

Do you respond to comments? Yes - I get nervous sometimes, though. Like not knowing exactly what to say back. So sometimes it takes me a bit.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I haven't officially published any of my angsty endings. Though, I might have a few others in the works with much more bittersweet endings

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? SOF will eventually get a happy ending so I guess it will be that one whenever it gets finished.

Do you get hate on fics? No - I'd probably crawl into a hole never to return. I only want to be perceived for praise. Thanks.

Do you write smut? Sometimes....I don't share it often, though.

Craziest crossover? The Secret History x Hogwarts Legacy

Have you ever had a fic stolen? No, I'd be very surprised

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not unless you count me translating my own garbled thoughts into something mildly readable

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Ah.. nothing official. Though the Willow girlies all have a history of bouncing ideas off of each other that sort of end up cohesive lore/writing.

All time favorite ship? Willow has my heart (Henry Winter x Sebastian Sallow) It was written in the stars, and you'll never convince me otherwise. Fav crackship

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh gosh. There are so many in my head that I've yet to put onto paper. More Wilow ramblings, I've got a Seb Dad/Daughter fic thats been playing around in my head for some time that I keep meaning to write down but never get around to for some reason.

What are your writing strengths? So much angst. lol. I've been told I'm quite descriptive.. So I guess that's a strength.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? My Seb is very much a polyglot. NERD. So I may try to incorporate some other languages into my fic, though I do cringe a bit at using Google Translate. So we'll see how much ends up there

First fandom you wrote in? Hogwarts Legacy was the first I've ever written for. I never even really wrote before this at all other than some random little stories when I was a child

Favorite fic you've written? Oh Gosh. There are some longer HL works I haven't published that I do love looking back on. They're a bit rubbish, but I can see my writing grow through them and that's very cool to see. Otherwise, SOF was the first I ever put into any kind of public space, so it will always be special in some way I think.

No twentieth question - I've met so many delightful/wonderful people through this little fandom and I'm so grateful for all of them. You darlings all know who you are.✨

No pressure tags💕: @diligentcranberry @sunnyrealist @juneymont

@rypnami @quackwizardry

Blaze

0 notes

[echoesofink]

Echoes in the Snow - Chapter Two

Summary | Haunted by childhood memories of howls in the night and glowing eyes in the dark, Sera returns to Stardew Valley to confront the mystery lingering in her mind. Were the wolves she once feared real or merely figments of an overactive imagination? As winter deepens and shadows lengthen, she discovers that some echoes of the past refuse to stay buried--and the truth may be far more dangerous than she ever imagined.

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Fandom | Stardew Valley Characters | Sam x Female OC Genre | Supernatural Romance Ratings & Warnings | +18/M for Mature; involving explicit mature scenes, werewolves, and mentions of depression/suicidal ideations. Word Count | 2,613 Cross Posted | wattpad | AO3 Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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Chapter Two

Sam | 1 Willow Lane | 32°F

It was a Saturday like any other.  Sam found himself in his room with his guitar hung around his neck while his best friend Sebastian ran his fingers along his keyboard.  The pair met like this every Saturday at noon under the guise of band practice.  Sam's dream had always been to make it as a musician, but now, he found himself in internal conflict. Given his current situation, he wasn't sure if that dream was still within his reach, but the desire to try still burned within him.  

Sam found freedom in music. Unlike the decisions dictated by his parents—molding the direction of his life—music was his own. It was a canvas on which he could paint his emotions, a sanctuary where he could be himself. While he never chose to leave the city or become a wolf, he cherished the ability to curate his musical journey, a journey that was a testament to the importance of creative freedom in his life.  

Today felt different.  Usually, Sam could completely lose himself in the music. Usually, he would find himself immersed in the rhythm and melodies strummed out by his guitar, letting the music embrace him warmly.  Today, however, his mind was elsewhere.  Instead, he found himself lost in memories of a pair of striking hazel eyes.  They were eyes he thought he would never see again—eyes that had persistently haunted his dreams for years—those of his mate.  

Sam hit a sour note, causing Sebastian to stop playing and cock a brow at his friend.  Though Sebastian wasn't a man of many words, his empathy was a defining trait.  He could tell that something was eating at his friend.  Sam had been off ever since the party for Rose.  Seb had a feeling it had to do with the appearance of a certain brunette at the farmhouse, but he wasn't going to pry.  Sebastian, always ready to lend an ear, knew Sam would talk to him about it when he was ready. 

"I need a smoke," Sebastian spoke out.  He thought Sam could use a break, though he would never suggest one.  Seb always took care of that with his need for nicotine. Their friendship was a silent understanding, a support system that didn't need words. 

"Yeah," Sam agreed.  "A break would be good."

The pair went from Sam's room through the living room and out the front door.   They reached their usual tree across the road from the house. Sam slumped against a tree trunk while Sebastian lit up a cigarette. Sebastian watched his friend from the corner of his eye, noticing that Sam didn't immediately go for his Gameboy was worth noting. 

"Do you believe in fate?" Sam's question broke the silence.

"In what way?" Sebastian knew something was bothering Sam, but he didn't think fate was it. 

"In all ways, I guess."  Sam took a deep breath before continuing.  His emotional turmoil was evident, and he was unsure if he could withstand Seb's mockery that he was sure to come.  "Forget it.  It's stupid."

"If it's bothering you, it's not stupid.  Does this have anything to do with the new girl?"

"Yeah, in a way." Sam loved and hated how Sebastian could always see right through him. 

"All this over a girl you just met?"

"That's just it, man. That wasn't the first time we met."  Sebastian cocked an eyebrow at Sam's response, a silent urge to continue.  "We met long ago when my family first moved to Pelican Town.  Our meeting wasn't strictly under the best circumstances, but I have never forgotten about her, and she has lived rent-free in my head ever since." 

"Explain the not the best circumstances part."

"We met the night her grandparents died, man."

"That's rough."

  Sam didn't want to discuss how she was his mate. Sebastian didn’t know much about the whole wolf thing; Sam was a werewolf, and she was his destined partner. "Do you believe in soul mates?"

"As in, there is only one person out there you are meant to be with?" Sebastian chuckled, his voice tinged with nonchalance, as he put out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot. "I don't know, but I'm not much of a romantic.  I'm much too apathetic for all that.  But if you believe in it, that's cool."

"Sorry, I'm out of it.  It's just all taken me by surprise.  She always takes me by surprise," Sam's voice quivered with emotion.

"We can wrap it up here if you want.  I've got a new programming project waiting for me, anyway.  No pressure, man,"  Sebastian suggested,  his tone casual and understanding. 

"Yeah, man.  That might be for the best.  Sorry, I'm all fucked up."

"Still not as fucked up as me," Seb retorted with a smirk, sparking laughter from both of them.

Sam stood, brushing his pants from dirt and grass, and headed back towards the house, waving to Sebastian as he walked back towards the mountain path to his home.  As Sam neared the house, something caught his eye, causing him to stop short.  Sitting on the ledge of his window sat a single small pink flower—a sweet pea. 

Sam had had crushes before; he was a teenage boy, after all. But this pull he felt for the girl he had rescued from the accident was different. It was more than just a crush.  He found himself in a whirlwind of emotions, much like the ones his father had described when he knew his mom was the one for him—his mate.  Was he too young to have a mate? His mind was a jumble of conflicting feelings, and he couldn't make sense of it all.  

He longed for his dad's presence, especially in such moments, but he was currently off with his troop for military training.  His mom always assured him that he could talk to her about anything, but she wasn't a wolf like the two of them were.  She didn't understand some things, even though she tried her best to.  His mom, Jody, also had her hands full, caring for his little brother Vincent, and he didn't want to burden her. 

So Sam found himself doing what he always did in these situations—he went for a walk.   He let his feet take him wherever they deemed fit and allowed himself to wander.  He did his best thinking while trying his best not to think at all.  Sam focused on the dirt crunching beneath his feet.   Usually, he would find himself on the mountain path leading him to where his only friend in the valley, Sebastian, lived, but this time, he found himself on a different path, one that led to the farm. 

 The funeral services for the grandparents of the two girls he had saved from the car crash were later this afternoon.  He wondered if anyone would be at the farm.  If she would be there.   His heart began to race with anticipation.  How would she react to seeing him here?  Did she blame him for the death of her grandparents?  His mind began to race with what-ifs as his feet moved him faster toward their destination. 

The breathtaking beauty of the farm struck Sam as he finally arrived.  He had only visited once before, and it was late at night—he had been too preoccupied with saving the two girls’ lives to appreciate the farm.  Rosewood was a flower farm, a sight to behold.  As far as the eye could see, flower beds of all heights and colors adorned the land, a mesmerizing spectacle. His eyes weren’t searching for a specific flower but seeking a certain girl.  She was sitting in a bed of blood-red roses when he spotted her.  He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and let his feet carry him toward her. 

"I'm picking flowers for a bouquet for the services, " she said as she cut a few roses off their bush. 

"Why these?"  Sam asked.  The roses were beautiful, but many different flowers existed throughout the fields.  She didn't seem like someone who did anything without reason.  Somehow, he knew that she picked these particular flowers for a reason. 

"What do you know of the language of flowers?"  She asked a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Flowers…talk?" He asked, confusion on his face.  The girl found it rather adorable.  She found him cute. 

"In their way, I suppose."  She chuckled softly as she continued to gather her flowers.  "It was popular in Victorian culture to communicate things with flowers.  They often used it to communicate love, though other sentiments could also be communicated with them.  Different flowers mean different things.  Like these roses," she began, handing one to the boy, her knowledge of the subject piquing his interest.

"Aren't roses used to communicate love? Like romantic love?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at her.  "My dad gives a bouquet of roses to my mom on their anniversary each year." 

"Yes, but different colors can mean different things. Red roses mean love, yes. Yellow roses can mean infidelity, pink means happiness, and these deep crimson ones," she spoke wistfully as she turned a flower slowly in her hands. These symbolize mourning." Her understanding of the roses' symbolism evoked a sense of empathy in Sam.

"I.." Sam started, but she cut him off.

"I know.  You don't have to say anything."  She smiled somberly at him as she picked up her basket and headed to a bed of tiny pink flowers.  "These are sweet peas," she spoke as she picked a few.  "They can be used to say goodbye and thank you.  I was thinking of adding a few sprigs of rosemary as well."

"What does rosemary mean?"

"Remembrance."  She stated.  "I want my bouquet to tell them that I am sad they are gone, but I also want to thank them for all they have done for me and for them to know that I will always remember their sacrifices."  She picked a few more pink flowers before handing some to Sam.  "I didn't know if I would see you again to thank you." Her appreciation for Sam's help made the butterflies start up in his stomach.

A blush crept across his cheeks as he accepted the flowers.  "You don't need to thank me."

"Yes, I do. You saved my life, and I don't even know your name."

"Sam," he said, clearing his throat.  "My name is Sam."

"Well, Sam.  It's nice to meet you.  I'm Sera." 

Sam didn’t talk to or see Sebastian again until Friday night.  The two met at the Stardrop Saloon’s back room every Friday to play pool.  Admittedly, Sam was not a particularly good Billiards player.  Seb usually tended to wipe the floor with him, and Sam wasn’t sure he was ready to handle the humiliation tonight.  Despite his inner turmoil and the fear of humiliation,  Sam consciously decided to face his fears. He knew he would only get more in his head if he stayed in his room, so he forced himself out the door and to the saloon.

The Stardrop Saloon was buzzing with its usual Friday night crowd; laughter and chatter filled the air.  Sam leaned over his cue stick in the back room by the slightly battered pool table, squinting at the balls scattered across the felt.  His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as if that would help him line up the perfect shot. 

Sebastian leaned casually against the wall with a half-empty beer mug and smirked.  “You know, the goal is to hit the ball, not send it flying off the table.”

“Ha, ha,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes.  “You’re just mad because I almost beat you last week.”

“Almost.  The key word there, man.”  Sebastian sipped his drink, his smirk growing.  “You’re down three games tonight already.”

Sam crouched lower, his cue wobbling slightly as he tried to steady his aim.  The crack of the cue ball hitting its target echoed through the saloon.  Unfortunately, instead of sinking the ball he aimed for, the cue ball veered wildly to the side, sending a solid ball into the corner pocket.  He was stripes in this game. 

“Whoops,” Sam said sheepishly while standing up and scratching the back of his head.  “Does that mean I get a second turn?”

“Nope.” Sebastian chuckled, placing his beer on the table’s edge and picking up his cue stick.  “That means I get to take advantage of the opportunity you gave me.”

Sam watched as Sebastian casually lined up his shot and effortlessly sank two balls in quick succession.  “Show-off,” Sam muttered.

“It’s not my fault you play pool like you’re wielding a sword,” Sebastian quipped, circling the table.  “Relax.  It’s about finesse, not brute force.”

“Finesse is overrated,” Sam huffed, crossing his arms.

“That’s what they all say until they start losing their tabs to Sebastian,” Abigal called out from her usual spot on the back room’s sofa.  “I don’t hear you complaining about drinking for free.”  She stuck her tongue out at him as she stood and headed towards the bar.  “Speaking of which, I’m going to get us another round.  We still have some money on the tab Seb won off of Elliot last week.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a fun night out,” Sam groaned.  “Not a public humiliation.”

Sebastian straightened up, leaning on his cue stick with a grin.  “Wouldn’t it be more humiliating if I went easy on you and you still lost?”

“One of these days, man, I’m going to kick your ass.” Sam groaned again, but a small smile tugged at his lips this time.

“Sure, Sam,” Seb replied, lining up another shot with the same easy confidence.  “Whatever you say.” 

“What is taking Abby so long with the drinks?”  Sam asked, leaning on his cue stick. His eyes followed Seb’s movements as he lined up yet another perfect shot.

“Sorry guys,” Abby re-entered the back room, two drinks in hand, “I was making a new friend, and I just so happened to coerce Sera here into helping me carry these back.”  Sam’s eyes quickly moved to the girl who walked in beside Abby and froze.  Sera was here, and she was walking over to him. His heart raced, and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Hey, Sam,” Sera said with a slight smile as she handed him his drink. “Abby told me you were playing back here and offered to let me join if that’s okay with you.”

“Y-y-yeah,” Sam stuttered out.  “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.”  He inwardly slapped himself; he knew his friends were making fun of him from their spot behind him, and he was right.  Seb and Abby were exchanging knowing glances at each other.  The two were already coming up with a plan to embarrass him further at their next get-together.  “Do you want to play?”  Sam asked hopefully.  “You can be on my team!”

“I’m not very good,” Sera replied sheepishly, her eyes downcast.  “I wouldn’t want to bring you down.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Seb laughed, his voice filled with playful mockery.  “He brings himself down on his own.” 

“Well, if that’s the case,” Sera spoke while reaching for her cue before moving back to Sam’s side.  “I’d be honored to lose with you, Sam.” 

“The honor, Sera, is all mine,” Sam bowed with a flourish before returning to re-rack the balls.  Even if he was to lose another game, he felt he had already won by having her by his side.   

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[legacygirlingreen]

July 1890 // Farmer Sebastian Sallow x Reader (part 6)

Part 6, master list and description here

Word count: 2,000

My smile is like I won a contest

Sebastian had been encouraged to keep a closer eye on the neighbor ever since he’d been the one to bring her back home that day he found her under the willow. He could hardly forget how relieved her mother had been to see she was okay, nor the way the woman grabbed him violently, kissing his cheeks and repeatedly thanking him for his help. Despite the unpleasant circumstances surrounding Anne, he still was attempting to find moments to give attention to the neighbor girl who he’d grown so fond of. 

“What house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Sebastian asked her as he plucked a weed from the ground, rolling it between his fingers before throwing it down. 

Over the last year the girl, who was nearing 12, had grown up so much. Her face continued to lose its baby fat and she gained a few inches in height. Despite that, she still her distance in age behind Sebastian, who still bore the impressions of being older than her.  

“You know them better than I do… what house do you think I’d be sorted into'' she asked with a shrug. 

“Hmm… as much as I’d love to say Slytherin I hardly imagine a world where you end up in the same house as me… unless of course you asked to be.” He said before glancing back over her. “You are very brilliant, you enjoy reading, so I’d put my money on Ravenclaw. But I could also see a world where you get sorted into hufflepuff for how caring and kind you are. Perhaps even Gryffindor since you put on such a brave face despite all that’s happened” he reasoned, truly unsure which house she’d end up in. He did however think more than likely in a few months he’d see her walking about the castle in blue. 

Sebastian wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was so relieved she was finally starting school. Since Solomon decided Anne would not be going back he was wildly unprepared to start school without her. Knowing the sweet girl next door would be starting soon to keep him company was a nice compromise he supposed. 

“I still haven’t gotten my letter.” She said bluntly and he turned towards her hopeful. 

“You’ll get it. Should be any day now… when was your mother going to take you to hogsmeade to get your wand? I remember how exciting it was when I finally got mine!” He exclaimed. 

“About that… mum has been very busy with my siblings and work as of late… I’m not sure she even recalls I am to be starting education this year if I’m honest.” She mumbled out frustrated. 

“I could always take you if you’d like,” he offered and she thought about it for a moment, realizing her mother likely wouldn’t care who took her, and would find that having the task completed to be a relief. 

“I think I’d like that, if you don’t mind” she told him and he nodded. 

“Of course, I would be honored to take you,” he said with a smile. 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then. We can also get some things to help Anne while we are there. Maybe even swing by Honeydukes” he offered and she grew warm at the thought of being out and about in a new place with Sebastian alone. 

She hardly slept that night, busy thinking about spending the day with him. There would be no chores, no distractions, and she’d get such an important element of being a witch alongside a young wizard only a few years her senior. Ever since the day he’d found her, she had felt the crush she developed long ago growing more, and more intense.  

When he finally came to her door that morning, explaining to her mother his offer, she was elated. Her mother was thankful enough he was taking her, saving the trip. 

It wasn’t long before she found herself walking the streets of Hogsmeade with the boy. As she took in the awe and splendor of the bustling little town, she couldn’t help but smile. She almost neglected to notice Sebastian watching her as she looked around, senses filled to the brim with new sights, sounds, even smells. 

“Charming village isn’t it?” he asked her as he gestured for her to keep walking straight ahead. 

“Very charming…” she said, reading a sign for the book shop. 

“Mr. Ollivanders is just up and to the left. His family has been making wands for generations!” he explained as they continued. 

She recalled the countless times he had proudly displayed his very simple and straight aspen wand, with its light wood, and the ornate handle that he’d picked out for it himself. The green checkered pattern with its gold details looking so striking and beautiful against the very plain wand. It was strong, unyielding, and so very Sebastian. She had recalled him mentioning it’s core so long ago, and how it was often attributed to those who could duel well. Beyond that she simply had glances of it from the times he’d twirl it out of a need to not be still, or the even rarer occasion he’d use it in front of her to demonstrate a spell. 

As she stepped foot into the cramped shop, filled to the absolute brim with wands she became overwhelmed. This was such an integral moment, and while she didn’t regret allowing the neighbor to be the one to take her, a small portion of her wished she could’ve gone with her father instead…

Pushing that thought aside Sebastian spoke with the shopkeeper, explaining the situation as the man looked over her, examining things like her clothes and her demeanor before rummaging around to try and find some. As they continued to search through and try different wands, each failing more than the last to connect with her, she wanted to give up. 

They’d gone through so many woods, all of the well known cores and still nothing felt right. If it hadn’t been for Sebastian’s encouraging face she’d have suggested giving up. The wand maker departed the main room, rummaging through the back as she let out a sigh. 

“Hey it's fine, you just haven’t found the one that's chosen you. I’m sure we’ll find one in no time!” he explained and she let out a snort. 

“Not surprising. What wand would want to be stuck with such a -” she started, degradation heavy in her tone as he frowned immediately, preventing her from continuing that sentence. 

“Stop. Whatever you were about to say, just stop.  You’re nothing short of brilliant, even untrained. I’m sure all the wands we’ve tried are simply just feeling anxious about working with such a talented witch.” he said and she looked down. 

As she tried to find her bearings she heard the old man in the other room say “ah ha!” before rushing back towards them. In his hands contained a very dusty box, much more ornate than the ones in the main room. She could tell this wand in particular was very old in comparison to the others. 

“This one has been waiting for the right owner for nearly a century now… perhaps you are its rightful owner,” he said, opening the black box. Nestled inside the silk lining was a slightly twisted wand, with a beautiful light but slightly reddish hue.  When she lifted it, she could almost feel the connection instantaneously - as if the wand was speaking to her directly. 

“Go ahead try it out” the wand maker encouraged as she lifted it, unsure what she wanted to cast, or even how to use it. Regardless she lifted it, waving it and thinking about how wonderful a connection it felt to her very essence. Thinking of how lovely the songbirds outside sounded, she waved it, producing a small ball of light, resembling a bird but made of gold dust, that repeated the same song as those outside. 

“Wow…” she said, finally realizing that this wand must've been a long lost companion of hers, despite being made many years ago. 

“I think we’ve found a winner. A very rare wand indeed. Willow wands are often sought after for their beautiful appearance but it's nearly impossible to find one that trusts their owner enough to use. Willows usually go for witches and wizards that need to grow a sense of confidence in themselves. They also are usually wielded by those who have aspirations of healing or protection. As for the core… I hardly see thestral tail hair cores being made anymore, as they are usually quite unpredictable but they are extremely powerful. This wand is quite an eccentric one, but it seems to be just what you need” he said, closing the box back for her. 

She nodded, finding it odd that the wand that chose her would be so unique, but hardly questioned it. Shelling out the money given by her mother that morning, she finally collected the wand and turned to Sebastian who nodded towards the door. 

“Just head out, I will be out in a moment” he explained while looking at the handles and she thought nothing of it. His wand handle had started to look worse for wear over the time he’d been using it so she stepped out, sitting one one of the steps as she waited. 

Sebastian didn’t keep her waiting long, and eventually joined her before ushering the both of them off in search of some herb he’d read about that might help Anne’s curse. 

When they returned to Feldcroft for the evening she started to part ways with Sebastian for supper when a very elegant Owl swooped down from the sky near her head, dropping a note for her. As she moved to pick it up off the ground from where it had fallen she looked at the front, detailing her name in cursive on the light blue envelope. She flipped it over to the back and when she saw the crest detailed in the wax seal her stomach dropped. 

No this wasn’t right.

Ripping open the letter she quickly discovered her fears. 

Bonjour Y/f/n, 

It is with great pride that we welcome you to study and grow your magic at Beauxbatons, where magic meets excellence… 

She stopped reading after that.  Looking up at him, knowing that Beauxbatons wouldn’t have sent a letter if Hogwarts intended for her to receive one as well, she realized quickly that they would in fact not be attending school together in September. Worse than that, they’d be separated by the English channel and too many miles for floo travel, or for him to aparate - a skill he very recently mastered. 

She had almost not even realized Sebastian had leaned into her, reading the letter over her shoulder but she soon felt his breathing disrupting the baby hairs escaping her plait along her neck. Turning around quickly, she discovered trying to hide it from him proved useless as Sebastian already looked upset.

“I-” she tried to reason, pushing aside her own disappointment in turn for focusing on him in the moment. 

“You’re not going to Hogwarts.” he spoke, seemingly devoid of emotions as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. 

“Not by choice, I told you I never received my letter, and -” she explained to him as he looked down at her, sadness looming in her eyes and she wished more than anything she could fix the situation. It’s not like she really wanted to go to Beauxbatons. Although, the thoughts of attending the school her father had, back in her home country did have some appeals… 

“I’m going to be alone.” he said flatly.

“That’s not true, you’ll have Ominis and -” she tried to reason once more and he stopped her again. 

“You don’t understand. If you’re not there… I… I need to go” he quickly spouted out before aparting away from her without so much as a warning, leaving her there in the hamlet alone as her mother called her home, tears beginning to fall down her face.