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moonpascaltoo · 2 months ago

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sebastian sallow

MASTERLIST • HOGWARTS LEGACY • 11/22/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 never forget I @zevrra

where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them

𑣲 caught in the rain I @/zevrra

you and sebastian seek shelter inside an abandoned home where every feeling is laid to bare.

𑣲 truth or dare I @ppomumgranatum

Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

𑣲 the dance of love’s sweet potion I @/ppomumgranatum

When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

𑣲 marry me I @theealbatross

The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

𑣲 fight the alchemy I @/theealbatross

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

𑣲 i love you, it’s ruining my life I @/theealbatross

Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him.

𑣲 never not been mine I @/theealbatross

Everyone wonders if you and Sebastian are together. Sebastian wonders when will everyone mind their own business.

𑣲 fever (what a lovely way to burn) I @shadowtriovibes

"since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly.”

𑣲 request I @/shadowtriovibes

Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back

𑣲 break a sweat part 2 part 3 part 4 I @/shadowtriovibes

sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

𑣲 mind if i move in closer? I @/shadowtriovibes

𑣲 it’s a sign of the times part 2 I @/shadowtriovibes

Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian

𑣲 fissured composure I @anto-pops

After watching you hold your own against a handsy classmate, Sebastian is feeling particularly needy and steals you away to the Undercroft to show you just how worked up your right hook got him.

𑣲 possessive touch I @/anto-pops

Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

𑣲 sudsy confessions I @/anto-pops

Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.

𑣲 request I @/anto-pops

𑣲 unspoken attraction I @arthenaa

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

𑣲 jealously, jealousy I @awkwardauthorwrites

𑣲 i think he knows I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Sebastian helps Y/N with an interesting request

𑣲 violets and verbena I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Two years have passed since the events in Hogwarts Legacy, in which Y/N has drifted away from Sebastian. What happens when she has to spend some time in the hospital wing and he comes to visit?

𑣲 in the middle part 2 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

After a few months of knowing the reader the boys suddenly realise one day they are falling in love with the reader and start to become a bit bitter towards each other and very jealous if another guy gives her attention.

𑣲 wildest dreams part 2 part 3 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.

𑣲 diesel is desire I @wttcsms

sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief.

𑣲 trust fall I @fairytalesandlegacies

Sebastian Sallow teaches you how to fight against the Imperius Curse late one night, and in the process, some long-kept secrets are revealed.

𑣲 i need you I @ravenelyx

Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

𑣲 who do you smell? I @roarieluz

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

𑣲 the night shift part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 I @writing-intheundercroft

You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

𑣲 a long time coming I @undergaunts

aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.

𑣲 pining in potions class I @festivalsofmargot

Sebastian Sallow is forming a huge crush on you, and it’s hitting him all at once in a very annoying way. Something as simple as not being partnered with you in potions class eats away at him.

𑣲 pretty thoughts part 2 I @/festivalsofmargot

Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you.

𑣲 a worrisome box of chocolates I @matchavellichor

𑣲 you look better in green part 2 I @fierymiasma

In which Sebastian sees the new transfer student wearing someone else’s scarf and proceeds to absolutely lose it.

𑣲 snow, scarves, and schemes I @spaceyaceface

Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only.

𑣲 the one who stayed I @talesofesther

For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

𑣲 the winner takes all I @justauthoring

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

𑣲 bludgered I @slytherizz

Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

𑣲 between the two of you I @cuffmeinblack

Rewriting of the events of the Shadow of the Study/Discovery quests.

𑣲 i crumble completely (when you cry) I @atlabeth

there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow series #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fic recs

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thecharacterchronicler · 7 months ago

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Bloodline (Part 1) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: Your family arranged for you to marry Marvolo Gaunt. Fortunately, your best friend Ominis steps up and makes sure to save you from such a fate.

Word count: 4’515

Warnings: English isn’t my first language so possible misspelled or misplaced words, arranged marriage, abusive families (mentioned), first time s*x, friends to lovers and explicit smut.

(( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Part 3 - Heirloom )) - (( Masterlist ))

The familiar flip-flap of owls entering the great hall through the windows resounded in Ominis’ ears, excited chatter rising from the students sitting at the tables as, one by one, they received their mail. The sound of paper falling on a wooden surface nearby piqued his curiosity, he didn’t receive letters often, nor did you or Sebastian but an envelope had unmistakably landed in front of one of you.

Your clothes rustled as you moved to take the paper in your hand, tearing apart the top of the envelope as your owl took flight again, its wings almost grazing Ominis’s hair on its way back to the owlery.

Despite the noise of other students all around, Ominis distinctly heard you take a sharp inhale of air, your silence as you read the letter addressed to you feeling somewhat tense.

“Is everything alright ?” He asked you, but you didn’t reply right away, too focused on whatever you were reading.

He waited a few more minutes, noticing the way your legs grew restless and your movements became agitated. You were sitting at the opposite side of the table from him and your foot bumped into his a few times as you nervously readjusted your posture.

He was too polite to insist and didn’t want to push you to share something you might want to keep for yourself, so even though he was dying to question you about the mysterious letter you had received and why its content seemed to upset you, he simply cleared his throat to remind you that he was waiting for an answer to his question.

“It’s a letter from my family.” You explained, with a slight tremble in your voice. “They say that they arranged a partnership for me, effective immediately after graduation.”

“A partnership ? You mean some kind of professional training ?” Sebastian asked, before biting into an apple.

“That would be an internship.” Ominis corrected him, shaking his head. “I think she meant something more intimate than that.”

“Like… A relationship ?” Sebastian inquired, still munching on his fruit.

“A marriage.” You stated, defeated.

“I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“I am not.”

“It’s common for wealthy and powerful families such as hers to arrange weddings, especially if it’s a matter of keeping their bloodline alive and pure.” Ominis explained, a shiver running down his spine. That was something his family did too, they were obsessed with maintaining the quality of their bloodline, suitable matches were carefully chosen, sometimes within their own family members.

“It’s more of a business contract than a marriage.” You added, with a sigh. “And my parents are making it very clear that I don’t have any say in the matter.”

“Do you know who’s the lucky fiancé, though ?” Sebastian asked, seemingly taking such terrible news lightly. Way too lightly. It was a tragedy, really. You deserved better than to be forced into a loveless marriage under the pretense of keeping a bloodline going, securing the pride and superiority of the worst kind of wizards to exist. Maybe Sebastian couldn’t quite grasp the gravity of what you had been asked to do but Ominis knew all too well how you must feel, being robbed of your free will and freedom by a controlling and corrupted family.

“It’s Marvolo Gaunt.” You answered, bluntly, before getting up from your seat on the bench and leaving the great hall in a rush. Although Ominis couldn’t see, he felt the intensity of your gaze piercing right through him, until you were no longer in the room.

His chest tightened and his body tensed at the sound of his older brother’s name. Marvolo probably was the most cruel wizard he knew, aside from their father. Although they shared the same blood, the same family and the same education, Ominis wasn’t afraid to say that his brother was immensely deranged and should have been locked up in Azkaban a long time ago, like the rest of his family actually. The only reason rules didn’t apply to them and they were free to commit the most vile and cruel crimes without facing punishment was because they were Gaunts, descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin and held more power and wealth than any other family of wizards in the country.

And now you were going to be one of them.

He couldn’t imagine you, taking part in the cruel acts his family committed for fun. And if you didn’t, they would find a way to punish you for it, just like they had punished him in the past. The Gaunts were dangerous, and you needed to stay away from them, no matter what.

Ominis stood up, reaching for his wand to guide his steps through the corridors and halls of the castle. He needed to find you and he knew his wand would know exactly where to take him. He was racking his brain, trying to find a solution to save you from such a doomed fate as he followed mindlessly the path his wand indicated. Eventually, he found himself outside, in a narrow courtyard. Wind rustled through the leaves of a nearby tree and caressed his face, sending a cold shiver through his body. He couldn’t feel any rays of sunshine warming his skin, meaning it must be a rather cloudy afternoon. He could hear the sound of water moving in the fountain at the center of the courtyard, birds singing in the sky… And soft muffled sobs. His wand twitched, tugging him in your direction.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Ominis told you, once he was standing in front of you. He could hear the sobs shaking your body as clear as day but still felt compelled to bring his hand to your face, wiping the warm teardrops away from your cheeks with his thumb. “Marvolo really isn’t a suitable match for you.”

“It’s alright, I knew this day would come eventually. I was just hoping my parents wouldn’t force me into this as soon as I was done with school.” You replied, another teardrop falling from your lashes and rolling down your cheek..

“There must be something we can do about it.” Ominis said, instinctively brushing off the fresh tear from your face. “What if you were engaged to someone else ?”

You laughed although you didn’t find anything amusing about the situation.

“During my seven years here, no one ever courted me, no one attempted to ask me on a date, I have no other prospects. And you know as well as I do that my parents shouldn’t risk angering the Gaunts.”

Ominis furrowed his brows. You were right, if your parents broke their promise to marry you off to one of his siblings, they might not make it out alive. If his parents had arranged for you to be wed to Marvolo, it meant they considered your blood pure enough to perpetuate their dignified bloodline. It was a rare occurrence, usually no one was deemed worthy enough so chances were that they’d do everything in their power to ensure that you’d become a Gaunt now that they had approved of you.

If you broke the arrangement to be with someone else, a wizard of lower class and reputation, his father would take it as an offense and you’d have to pay for such a daring act. If you married Marvolo, then surely he would take advantage of you and of your obligation to satisfy your family and his, he’d be cruel and violent, he wouldn’t care about you and would never treat you with the respect you deserved… There was only one option left.

“Marry me.” Ominis stated, determined.

“What ? What are you saying ?” You spoke, dumbstruck by the sudden suggestion.

“My parents want you to ensure the purity of our bloodline, your parents want you to earn the status and power that come with my last name… So marry me instead.”

“Ominis, you don’t have to. I can’t ask you to do that for me, that’s…” You argued, shaking your head.

“It’s a matter of time before my parents arrange a wedding for me too. I think I’d much rather be married to someone I consider a friend than a stranger they would have picked for me. So really, you’d be the one doing me a favor.” Ominis continued, his heart beating faster as he spoke. He knew it was a good idea, it would save you from Marvolo, from his family and, despite being a Gaunt himself, he would do his best to treat you well. He would never hurt you, never mock you, never give you any reason to regret choosing him instead of his brother…

So please, say yes.

His mother adjusted his tie. She told him that the all black suit she had gotten tailored made for him suited him better than anything he ever wore. She said it brought his blue eyes out, and that everyone would be able to tell that he was one of the heirs of the Gaunt name. Ominis wasn’t sure what was meant to be a compliment and what was meant as a jab, but he simply nodded at everything she said.

By the time he walked down to the garden of the imposing manor, his mother’s arm looped in his, he felt dizzy with anxiety. His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to burst out at any minute. His ribcage felt so tight around his lungs that he could barely breathe correctly, and the more time went by, the more sweaty his hands became.

He could hear the chatter of the numerous guests his parents had invited as they took place around the lectern that had been placed at the very center of the garden. The familiar smell of roses tickled his nose, meaning the white rose bushes must be in full bloom in this season. He could feel the sunshine on his face and the warm summer air on his skin. It was a beautiful day on the gloomy manor.

His mother let go of his arm, leaving him standing on his own in front of what he imagined was an impressive audience of grumpy wizards. He still couldn’t quite catch his breath and, the moment the ambient chatter died down, his throat instantly felt constricted and his body tensed up.

He heard the whispers among the crowd and the footsteps approaching in his direction. It was unmistakably the way of walking of a man, confident and determined while the lighter steps next to his were more hesitant. In the past seven years, Ominis had memorized the sound of your steps. He also could recognize your smell in a crowd and knew exactly how soft your skin felt under his fingers. He could tell if your hair was up or let down from the way you touched and played with it and he knew that the quiet, almost imperceptible breaths you let out meant that you felt nervous. He knew all of this and more yet, he had no idea what it felt like to kiss your lips or hold you in his arms and that felt awfully wrong, considering what you both were about to do.

The man that had accompanied you walked away, leaving you standing with Ominis in front of prying, curious eyes. You didn’t say anything to each other, too busy trying to not pass out from how anxious you both felt. The contract was written and placed on the pupil in front of you, its tricky clauses oozing with dark magic.

It wasn’t just any contract. It was a cursed one, meant to bind you together forever. The words til death do us part took a different meaning as you signed your name at the bottom of the page, knowing that if you ever tried to leave him, you’d most likely be instantly killed by some kind of dark spell that probably was forbidden to cast. The promises you made by signing this contract were definitive and the consequences if you failed to hold them were deadly. At the very least, you both could feel thankful that you weren’t making such vows to a complete stranger.

Ominis signed the parchment too, the ink dripping from the quill dark red like blood. The contract was sealed with applause and illegal magic, making you his wife. For the rest of your lives.

The dinner that followed the ceremony was dull and mostly boring, a display of Mister Gaunt’s power and a lecture on his narrow views about muggles and mudblood wizards, as the guests listened quietly to his speech, nodding in agreement every once in a while. Eventually, Ominis took his leave, pretending that he was exhausted from the events of the day. You excused yourself too, glad to find him waiting for you in the hallway.

He knew the manor he grew up in in details and could navigate it without the help of his wand. He guided you upstairs, through the dark corridor that led to his bedroom. He opened the door for you, letting you step inside first before following you in and shutting the door behind him. He had never had any guest in his bedroom before and that realization made him feel uneasy. He knew that the servants kept his room neat and tidy - just how he liked it - but he wasn’t sure of what you were going to think about the ancient desk he sat at to write his letters to Sebastian, or the books that lined the shelves of bookcases that reached the ceiling. And what about the four poster bed he slept in, he had always found it large and comfortable but suddenly he worried it might be too small to share with you.

“Once we move into our own home we’ll be able to sleep in separate rooms. But for now, I think it’s better if we share mine.” He said, hoping that you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable here until then.

To convince his parents to let him marry you instead of his brother, he had pretended he was madly, irredeemably in love with you. At first, they didn’t like it, saying that love made men foolish and pushed them to their demise but, eventually, they came to the realization that him wanting you so badly would serve the purpose of continuing their bloodline. Many heirs could be born from such desires.

Now that you were here, in the intimacy of his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think about it. How amazing it would be to kiss you, touch you, make you his as everybody expected him to. But he wouldn’t do it. Mainly because he was a gentleman and had promised himself that he would never, ever, disrespect you. And also because he was determined to not give his parents the satisfaction of having any heirs from him. The Gaunt bloodline was poison, corrupted with dark practices and immorality. Sooner or later, one of them would cause unforgivable chaos in the world, so he was determined to prevent it from happening anyway he could.

“I’m sorry that you had to do this.” You told him, taking a closer look at the books on his nightstand. You sounded sincere, as if you felt guilty that he now had the privilege of calling you his wife. “You should have been able to marry someone you love.”

Ominis had never felt anything remotely close to what was described in the books he read for someone, nor did he experience the crushes Sebastian so often had on a random person every once in a while. The only woman that had somehow interested him was you. He cared about you. And maybe it was an acceptable foundation for a marriage.

“You should have been able to do that too.” You sat on his bed, your wedding dress crunching up above your legs. He approached, heart hammering in his chest. “But for what it’s worth, I consider myself lucky to call you my wife.”

You smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours. His palms were sweaty, as per usual when you were around, but you didn’t seem bothered by that, pulling him so that he’d sit on the bed next to you.

“Do you mind if I try something ?” You asked him, a bit hesitantly. He took a sharp inhale of air, his body straightening up with sudden tension. In appearance, he seemed quite uncomfortable to be sitting so close to you, and even more now that you had asked him such a question, but he nodded despite hating being unsure of what to expect.

You moved closer, slowly. Your scent tickled his nose, he knew it by heart, he had fell asleep more than once to the faint perfume you left on the common room’s couch pillows, usually prompting him to dream of you. He felt your soft, warm breath caress his skin, indicating that your face was inching impossibly close towards his. He held his breath as you pressed your delicate lips to his, giving him a chaste kiss to seal your union, far from prying eyes.

He kept his eyes closed when you moved away, conflicted emotions passing on his face. He wasn’t expecting to feel so many tingles in his stomach after such a light and short kiss, yet even now that you had moved away, he still felt millions of butterflies tingling under his skin. He left out the breath he had been holding, taking just enough air to say your name, softly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You apologized, and he knew from the sound of your voice that you must be blushing.

He had wondered what it would feel like to kiss you too, more than he’d like to admit. A friend shouldn’t be curious about such things, it felt wrong to him, like he was betraying you by having such intimate thoughts about you. He hated how conflicted he felt whenever he woke up with an erection because he had spent the night dreaming of you touching him, and he hated how his primal instinct sometimes took over and he’d end up brushing against your chest or your back under the pretense that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He shouldn’t feel so desperate for his friend to kiss him again, and surely he shouldn’t want to be given permission to explore the body of his friend in details… But perhaps, if such desires weren’t acceptable between friends, they could be considered reasonable ones to have for his wife…

“Don’t apologize, we’re married now after all.” He gulped, feeling the temperature of his body rising. “Kissing is one of the many things that will be expected from us.”

You moved, suddenly growing agitated next to him. He could hear the rustle of the fabric of your wedding dress, the sound of clasps being opened and knots getting untied. He didn’t dare to move, not even breathe, as he carefully listened for a clue as to what you were up to. Then, he felt your hands on his chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his vest, one by one.

“What are you doing ?” He asked, his breath catching in his throat when his hands, resting on his lap, brushed against your bare thighs.

“Another thing that is expected of us.” You simply replied, now dragging his vest down his shoulders, before repeating the same actions to remove his shirt. He heard your surprised, yet quiet, gasp and the way your breathing became labored at the sight of his chest. He felt your fingers tracing the lines of his abs, brushing against the blond hair under his navel and grazing the elastic of his pants.

He said your name in a whisper, wanting it to be a warning but coming out like a desperate plea. You shouldn’t be touching him like this, not because it was what your families required of you. You should only do it because you wanted to. So he knew he had to stop you before it went too far, before he wouldn’t be able to refuse, before his body was set ablaze by his repressed lust for yours otherwise, there would be no way of stopping him anymore. He would consume you. Worship you. Devour you. And his promise to never disrespect you would be just a distant memory already, because none of the things he wanted to do to you were respectable.

But you weren’t making it easy for him to keep his word. Your hand was still tracing the lines of his chest like he was some kind of sculpture you were admiring, taking in every detail like he would. And when you moved to sit on his lap, straddling him and trapping him between you and the bed, he tensed up and groaned.

He brought his hands to your hips, telling himself that he’d gently guide you off of him so that he’d be able to remain a gentleman and not take advantage of the admirable loyalty you had for your family with your determination to complete your marital duties right away, but when he felt nothing but your warm skin under his fingers, when you leaned forward to press your naked chest against his and plant another soft kiss on his lips, the remaining of his will power to resist you dissolved.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, we’re friends.” He said, because that was what he usually told himself whenever he thought about you while rubbing himself in the shower. Except he wasn’t the one gripping on his erection this time. You had easily opened up his pants and now the evidence of his desire for you was held tightly in your hand. Your thumb stroked the tip of his erection, spreading the clear drop of precum that had escaped from it over the sensitive pink skin.

“We’re not friends anymore, Ominis. We’re married.” You corrected him, your words destroying the only argument he had to convince himself to not behave like some kind of wild animal as he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from exploring your naked body. “I wasn’t allowed to organize my wedding, chose my dress or invite my friends… Don’t rob me from having a beautiful wedding night. Please.”

His erection twitched in your hand. You were asking so nicely, so politely, for something so intense and passionate, it made him even harder. He put his arm around your waist, securely holding you as he removed you from his lap and laid you down on his bed with a strength you never expected him to have.

“Are you sure this is what you want ?” He inquired, holding himself above you with his hands gripping the headboard, his pants and underwear down to his knees.

“Absolutely.” You confirmed, with a shudder of excitement.

“Very well.” His voice was low, revealing just how badly he wanted this too. He placed a hand on your knee and followed the path all the way up to your core. He could feel the wetness and warmth coming from your center, begging for his attention. He traced the slit between your legs a few times, making you gasp with anticipation. Then, he pushed a finger passed your entrance, your whimper resounding in his ears. He moved his hand in a back and forth motion, not really aiming to pleasure you this way but trying to memorize a path he couldn’t see.

He took his finger out, bringing his hand back to his impatient cock. He wiped your wetness over his tip, mixing it with the fresh drops of precum that coated his skin. Once most of his hard length was slick and sticky, he brought his tip exactly where his finger had been, rubbing it between your wet folds to gather even more moisture before finally pushing it inside you. He heard you gasp loudly and he did too, the tightness of your cunt taking him by surprise.

He easlily managed to slide even deeper, burying his entire length inside of you with a satisfied sigh. He could hear your panting breaths, your soft cries in reaction to his movements inside you and the way you moaned his name, encouraging him to rock his hips against yours a few times.

It was nothing like he had thought it would be. His hand had never made him feel as good as you did, your warmth, wetness and tightness around him were intoxicating. The most wonderful thing he had ever experienced.

He slowly pulled himself almost all the way out, only to shove himself back in with more force. He could feel his tip hitting deep inside you, pleasure building in his abdomen with each of his quick pushes.

The sounds you made were music to his ears, the way you reacted to each of his thrusts was delightful, better than what he had imagined in his most vivid fantasies. He never expected you to be so loud, perfectly showing him how good he was making you feel. He increased his speed and you moaned even louder, practically crying out his name.

He felt your legs closing around his waist, keeping him close while your nails dug into his back, the whole bed shaking in rythym with his movements. Was he too rough ? How could he not be ? It was impossible to be more gentle when the pleasure he felt with each thrust kept intensifying, he was going to lose his mind, chasing the feeling, building it up until he couldn’t take it anymore.

You cried out one more time and your body tensed up, tightening around him so viciously that he finally reached his climax, instantly filling you up with his release. You kept your legs around him, your body spasming with intense pleasure as he struggled to catch his breath for a moment, his thoughts slowly coming back into order.

He waited until your body stopped twitching to remove himself, feeling your shudder as he pulled his spent erection out of you. You still were softly panting, your chest rising and falling under his hand while the other still clasped tightly the headboard. He leaned over, easily finding your lips from which breathless gasps still escaped. He kissed you, gently, as a way to apologize for losing control of himself and felt relieved when you returned his kiss even more fervently.

He moved to his side, lying down next to you to give you enough space to catch your breath but you inched closer, nuzzling your naked body against his in a cuddle that felt even more intimate than what he had just did to you.

“Thank you.” You said softly, sounding truly happy. Ominis smiled, his fingers absently caressing your back, playing with strands of your now messy hair. “I’m glad to have you as my husband.”

Husband. The word turned in his head, reminding him that you now were officially a couple. Mrs Ominis Gaunt; his best friend, his wife, his lover… His.

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

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lqveharrington · 12 days ago

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Someday | D.M.

summary: you and draco are from opposing houses, and you were terrified how your friends were going to react when they found out.

pairing: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader

includes: secret relationship, kissing, arguing, lots of fluff but also angst, draco and reader are SOOO in love

a/n: kind of a before ‘the alchemy’ fic but not necessarily (i love writing hufflepuff reader and totally not because im a hufflepuff…)

You were three years into dating the Slytherin Prince. Three years of secret love and longing glances from across the classroom. Three years of your friends not knowing. You never meant for three years to pass by without letting your friends know that you were dating someone they. Hell, they thought you were going to be alone forever because you refused to go on dates with anyone they suggested. You were just terrified to see how they would react to you dating Draco Malfoy himself.

“Hi, my darling.” Draco smiled when you found him in your favorite section of the library. He tilted your head up by the chin and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, feeling you grin into his kiss. “How are you?”

You slot your hand in his hand spin his family signet, shrugging as you found a lack of words. “I guess tired. I helped Madame Pomfrey with a student who hurt himself trying a puking pastille thinking it was a normal gummy.”

“Look at you being a healer. Already starting early.” He thumbed your palm and let out a soft chuckle when you scrunched your nose. “M’gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

“Such a flirt, Malfoy. If I knew any better, I would think you like me.” You giggle with a lopsided smile and press a kiss to his lips. You felt his hand travel to the curve of your waist, holding you gently against him. “Wow, take me on a date first.”

He shushed you and pulled you around, tucking you away from the prying eyes looking down the aisles. Draco squeezed your waist when the people left and softly lifted your head off his chest.

“There were people.” He murmured and rubbed the bottom of your chin, eyes looking across your face. “I know you don’t want anyone here to know just yet.”

You purse your lips and nod, glancing down the aisle in thought. You knew how much he wanted everyone to know about the both of you, but he respected your wishes. Sighing, you rest your forehead on his chest and shut your eyes. It was going to be a long year.

As weeks and eventually months passed, you still hadn’t told your friends about your relationship. It resulted into longing glances from across the room and quick touches whenever you passed the other in the hall. However, your friends soon caught onto you, and they wanted to get to get to the bottom of your secret relationship.

“You have to at least tell us how long you’ve been together.” Hannah Abbott took your hands in hers and squeezed them, practically bouncing in excitement in the courtyard. “I want to know everything!”

She spun around the courtyard, making you laugh. Susan Bones sighed and rested her head on your shoulder, also curious to who this mystery person was. “Hannah, I’m sure they haven’t been dating for that long, right?”

You give her a glance and avert your eyes, face flushing pink. “We’ve been dating for a good while.”

“Like how long?” Hannah spun her way back over to you and squinted. You pursed your lips and looked down at your shoes. “It’s been more than a year?”

“Three years, actually.” You murmur and cover your ears when both girls squeal in joy before realizing what this meant. You raised your brows when they looked at you like you were crazy. “What?”

“You’ve been dating someone for three whole years and haven’t told us about it? How rude!” Susan crossed her arms and stuck her chin up, making you sigh.

Hannah looked between the two of you in concern. She knew that you were an over thinker, but she never thought you would keep anything that big away from your best friends. Especially three years worth of friendship without knowing of your relationship.

“How about we talk about this later when we don’t have classes to get to?” She tried to defuse the tension between the two of you, doing her best to avoid anymore fighting. “I’m sure we have a lot to debrief after herbology.”

“Darling?” Draco stumbled back a little when you ran into his arms, holding you tight against him. He pressed a kiss to your head, albeit confused to your sudden rush but knowing you needed it. “What’s wrong?”

“Just hold me for a little bit.” You mumble into his suit and find his hand, fiddling with his fingers. Your breathing slowly evened out as you listened to his heart beat and messed with his ring, shutting your eyes for a split second. “Sorry. I needed a second to just breathe.”

He clicked his tongue and tilted his head to meet your eyes, “You don’t have to apologize for that.” Draco slowly maneuvered the both of you down to the floor of the astronomy tower and let you continue to play with his fingers, sitting side by side as the sun began to set. “Tell me what happened, my love.”

You stayed quiet for a little while and stared at his palm, letting the wind blow gently through your hair before speaking. “Susan got upset that I never told her about us and Hannah isn’t sure which side to take.” You rest your head on his shoulder and look at the colors of the sky. “Right after herbology, Hannah wanted us to talk it through but Susan refused and left straight for the common room.”

Draco listened intently to your words, his thumb tracing hearts into your palm. He was shocked to hear your friend blatantly ignore your own feelings and avoiding having to talk it through. It wasn’t like you were doing it without reason. Any person would be shocked to see a Hufflepuff and Slytherin dating.

“I knew we were meeting up here so I just came up early.” You finished and finally lace your hands together, looking up at him with so much emotion. “Sorry if I worried you.”

“Stop saying sorry.” He murmured and looked down at you, his beautiful gray and blue eyes meeting your own. “You needed a moment, darling, it’s alright.”

The fading sky soon darkened to the night sky you and Draco loved so much. Like always, the first thing you would do is point out his constellation, the dragon made of the prettiest stars. However, your moment was soon interrupted with the clambering of feet up the astronomy stairs.

“Susan, she always comes up here after dinner.” You heard Hannah say, almost out of breath from how many stairs she walked up. It wasn’t like she took astronomy classes.

Draco went to move away from you, but you refused to move. You figured it was time for them to put the pieces together. Besides, there wasn’t much places to hide up here.

As their steps got closer and eventually on the balcony, you could barely make out their bodies until Hannah used lumos to light up her wand. She found you much faster in the process, but the shock that covered her face made you want to hide in the darkness forever.

“Hi.” You murmur and look away, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your emotions in check.

As if he could feel you in the verge of tears, Draco squeezed your hand and allowed you to play with his fingers again. He didn’t look over at the girls, only keeping his eyes on you. The moment your eyes met, Draco nodded his head toward the girls and murmured words of encouragement to you.

Your name fell from Hannah’s lips, making you look over at her. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”

You purse your lips and tighten your grip on Draco, pulling his ring until you held it in your palm. The tension between the four of you was thickening, but you knew something had to happen.

“I don’t know… I figured you guys wouldn’t like it because— Well, it’s Malfoy.” You say quietly and look at Draco with little amusement, earning an eye roll back from him. “And it’s not like I meant to hide this for so long, I just got scared.”

Hannah and Susan looked at each other before looking over at you, watching Draco continue to whisper words when you rested your forehead on his shoulder. They saw how much he cared for you and how much you meant to him. When he slipped his signet to your finger and you moved to smile up at him to press a kiss to his lips, they knew this was it for you.

“You apologize right now, Susan.” Hannah whisper-shouted to her, shoving her forward. “They’re clearly in love and she was just scared about our opinion because they belong to two completely different houses!”

“We can hear you.” Draco spoke to them for the first time, his voice clear to the two girls.

They froze and looked toward the blonde, wincing when they saw him raise his brows. Hannah let out an awkward laugh and stepped closer, nudging Susan once more.

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, “Listen, I didn’t mean for you to get upset. I just felt offended that you would leave me and Hannah out of such an important detail in your life. I mean, we would’ve been a little skeptic, but we can see how much you two love each other.” Susan looked over at Hannah and smiled when she nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we love you! We just felt left out but I get it. I know it can feel scary to tell others about something that could change someone’s opinion on you.” Hannah kneeled and took your hands from Draco’s, squeezing them softly. “But we will always love you.”

You smiled and hugged her tightly, burying your head in her shoulder. Hannah laughed and hugged you back with the same fervor, Susan joining after you reached a hand out to her.

Draco — knowing you needed a minute — stood up and watched you. The smallest smile creeping up on his face when you opened your eyes with the biggest smile on your face. Your fears were diminished. Your friends supported you in all you did, and Draco knew that you would always have your friends no matter what.

Even if they took a second to understand, they came around in the end because they loved you. And they knew Draco loved you just as much.

502 notes · View notes

awkwardauthorwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Friends Don't

Word Count: 4.2k

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Y/N comes to a startling revelation when brewing Amortentia in potions class

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

Meet me in the Common Room, midnight - S

Y/N looked across the cauldrons at Sebastian and nodded once, a small smile on her face. He grinned back, before turning to face Professor Sharp before he could get caught not paying attention.

“Is that a love letter from Sallow?” Imelda leant forward, a teasing smirk on her face.

“Come off it,” Y/N rolled her eyes and tucked the note into her textbook. “You know we’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at friends that way,” she shot a look over at Sebastian, who was standing over his cauldron with a confused look on his face. His brow was furrowed as he looked between his textbook and the potion he was making, which was supposed to be a teal colour, but was currently navy blue. “Point proven.” Y/N turned back to her with an unimpressed glare as she stirred her own potion (which was the correct shade of teal).

“You need a new hobby. Clearly Quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough.”

“Watching you and Sallow pine after each other like lovesick Crup puppies is my new hobby.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re in denial,” Imelda smiled sweetly as Y/N and turned back to her potion as Professor Sharp made his rounds by their station. He stopped by Sebastian’s smoking cauldron with a sigh and quiet reprimand (You’re usually better than this Mr Sallow) before moving onto the next group of students.

“If you’ve been following the instructions in your books,” Professor Sharp called out, “your potions should start turning pink as you stir it. Once it’s the right shade you may place the final ingredient in.”

Y/N watched in fascination as the contents of her cauldron began to change colour with every clockwise rotation of her wand. Although she had now been attending Hogwarts for two years, magic never failed to amaze her. She couldn’t believe she had gone the majority of her life not knowing it existed. The colour eventually shifted to the pale pink that Professor Sharp had spoken about and Y/N added the crushed moonstone and watched it take on a pearlescent sheen.

“Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Y/L/N. Would you care to share with the class?” Sharp loomed over her shoulder, peering into her cauldron. Y/N watched as the class looked over curiously and caught Sebastian’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with her, and looked down at her potion as if to say well, go on then. She leant forward to smell the contents of the cauldron, trying to decipher the scents coming from in front of her. Petrichor, wildflowers and…oh. Y/N blinked and leant back so she could pick up the coffee beans Sharp had left on each station so they had a palate cleanser. After a quick smell of the bitter grounds she turned to her cauldron again. Oh.

“Well?” Imelda asked her.

“If it’s all the same, Professor. I’d rather not,” Y/N muttered, her face flaming. The class broke into a chorus of whispers, all trying to guess what scent had turned the Hero of Hogwarts a pretty shade of pink. Although it was hidden well, Y/N watched as Sharp’s mouth twitched up in amusement before he moved on from her.

“What did you smell?” Imelda whispered to her. Y/N shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn’t tell anyone she had smelled Sebastian’s smoky cologne, the one that seemed to stick to him all day even though he barely used it. Imelda looked between Y/N’s red face and her cauldron before looking across the station to Sebastian and a knowing smirk fell on her features. “Sebastian…” Y/N shot her a warning look, which Imelda pointedly ignored. “What do you smell?”

“Nice try, Imelda,” he chuckled and stirred his own potion. “I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re both no fun.”

“Just because yours is probably something predictable like broom polish doesn’t mean we’re not fun for not wanting to share,” Y/N shot. Imelda let out a laugh and patted her friend’s hand.

“Careful there Y/L/N, I’ve still got some cards up my sleeve for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Y/N glared at the girl next to her, stomach churning nervously. Imelda just grinned at her before adding her own crushed moonstone to her cauldron, signalling the end of the conversation. Y/N was vaguely aware of Sebastian watching them curiously from across the potions station and turned to face the raven-haired girl next to her, clutching the sleeve of her robes. “Imelda.”

“Calm down,” she laughed quietly and leant in so no one else could hear. “Your not-so-secret crush on Sallow is safe with me. I actually quite enjoy watching you two act like you don’t have feelings for each other.” With a wave of her wand, Imelda tidied her potions station and left the class swiftly, just as the bell rang outside. Y/N cursed the day she met the girl, and more specifically, became friends with her after completing all of her stupid broom trials, and quickly cleaned her own station before leaving the classroom. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the Great Hall for dinner that she realised what Imelda had implied with her parting words.

Sebastian couldn’t have feelings for me, she wondered, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, could he? No, that’s ridiculous, she shook her head to rid herself of the assumption.

“Careful, Y/N,” a hand grabbed the back of her robes and gently tugged her back a couple of steps before she could fall off the Grand Staircase. “You’re usually more aware than this, where did you go?” Sebastian looked concerned and pulled her away from a crowd of students that was walking their way. Y/N looked up at him, craning her neck more than she used to when they met in fifth year. Sometime in the summer between fifth and sixth year Sebastian had really come into his own. He had always been attractive, but somewhere along the way, without her really noticing, he had suddenly shot up and filled out. The jumper he wore to fight the perpetual chill in the dungeons did little to cover up the muscle that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“Dinner, I’m starving,” she lied, freeing her robes from his grasp so she could continue to walk towards the Great Hall. “How’s Ominis? I haven’t heard from him much since he went on his unsanctioned visit to see Anne.” Although he grumbled like he was annoyed, Y/N knew deep down Sebastian was a little pleased that his best friend and sister had finally started to court a few months ago. Apparently watching Ominis pretend he hadn’t been in love with her since they were children was sickening to say the least.

Y/N was relieved when Anne reached out to Sebastian at the beginning of their final year at Hogwarts and extended an olive branch. She watched as Sebastian had read the initial letter, a wide smile on his face and unshed tears in his eyes before he brandished the piece of parchment at her excitedly. The twins weren’t as close as they used to be, but they were slowly mending the bridge that had burned down with their Uncle’s untimely death.

“Where do you keep going? What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked her. His hand came out to smooth the crease in between her eyes, lingering for a moment before he pulled away.

“You.”

“Oh really?” he arched an eyebrow, a sly smile falling on his lips. “Is this where you finally admit I’m the most handsome student at Hogwarts?”

“I thought you had three years worth of self-imposed trophies to say just that.”

“Yes, but none of those mean anything without your agreement.” Something danced behind Sebastian’s eyes, a look Y/N couldn’t quite decipher. She was used to his charming nature and the confidence he seemed to exude, but every so often he said something and paired it with a look that was different. He looked…uncertain? Hopeful, maybe.

“I didn’t realise my opinions held so much weight for you.”

“And here I thought it was obvious that I hold you in the highest regard.” The air around them changed. Y/N couldn’t pinpoint it exactly - it wasn’t tense, but she felt a palpable shift in energy. She looked away from him and hoped he couldn’t see the blush that she felt rise to her cheeks as she walked into the Great Hall and made her way to the Slytherin table. She found Poppy seated with Imelda, heads bent together as they chatted quietly. They looked up as Sebastian and Y/N sat down, and a downright devilish grin was plastered on Imelda’s face.

“The rumours about what you can smell in Amortentia and refused to share in class are already circling.”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned as Sebastian filled her plate with food.

“The majority seem to think you can smell something that relates to Sebastian or Ominis,” Poppy added.

“Ominis?” Sebastian stopped filling Y/N’s glass with pumpkin juice, his tone incredulous. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“How would you know?” Imelda shot at him. “Has Y/N told you what she could smell?”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous,” Y/N cut in, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the large bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned some onto Sebastian’s plate.

“It’s not that bad, Y/N,” Poppy gave her a reassuring smile. “I think it’s sweet. What you can actually smell, that is.” Y/N paused, the piece of chicken intended for Sebastian’s plate wobbling precariously on the serving spoon.

“How do you know what she can smell?” Sebastian looked up at her sharply, though there was no malice in his voice.

“Imelda told me.”

“Imelda,” Y/N hissed at the girl across the table from her at the same time Sebastian gave her a reproachful look.

“You told Imelda?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Y/N protested. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She could hear a few of her classmates around them mutter about her, all supplying options for what she could smell in the love potion. “I think I’m going to grab something from the kitchens instead,” Y/N stood and quickly made her way out of the hall before any of them could follow her. The moment Y/N was out of earshot Imelda leant across the table to hit Sebastian across the back of his head.

“Ow,” he rubbed his head and gave the raven-haired girl a disapproving glare, “what was that for?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Sebastian Sallow.”

“Imelda…” Poppy nudged the girl gently before offering Sebastian a sympathetic smile. “What she means is - ”

“Oh, I have no doubt she meant it.” Later Sebastian would vehemently deny to anyone that he was pouting like a scolded child after being accosted by Imelda Reyes, but at that current moment all he could do was sulk as he pushed some peas around his plate.

“I did,” Imelda offered him a saccharine smile and shrugged unapologetically at Poppy, who looked disappointed at the pair. “If you don’t go after what you want, Sallow, others are going to take it from you.”

“Y/N isn’t some belonging that people can just have, least of all me. She’s a person with her own thoughts and feelings.”

“Who said I was talking about Y/N?” Sebastian’s head shot up to meet Imelda’s self-satisfied smirk and let out a low groan. “My point is,” she continued as he (rather dramatically, Imelda thought) lay his head down to rest on the table, “you’re in Slytherin. We’re ambitious to a fault, and when we know what we want we strive to achieve and obtain it. What’s stopping you from going after Y/N?”

“We’re just friends.” The lie Sebastian muttered on a daily basis felt thin to even his ears, and clearly neither Imelda or Poppy was impressed either.

“Why could you smell her in the Amortentia then?” Poppy asked.

“How did you know I - oh. I’m impressed, Sweeting. That was very Slytherin of you,” Sebastian laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “What would you both have me say then? Y/N I’ve been in love with you since fifth year when we fought a troll together in Hogsmeade?” he asked rhetorically. If his face wasn’t red with embarrassment before, it was now as the words slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t - I mean, I do? I think. I didn’t mean - ” His stammers were interrupted by Poppy’s quiet laugh.

“Oh Sebastian, you don’t need a pair of working eyes to know that you’re in love with Y/N Y/L/N. I think the only person oblivious to your feelings is Y/N herself.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin our friendship?” he asked quietly. The girls shared a look, and if Sebastian would have looked at either of them he would have noticed a silent conversation happening between the pair.

“Okay, look. I told Y/N I wasn’t going to tell you this, but you’re behaving like a lovesick second year and it’s making me sick,” Imelda flicked a pea at Sebastian in disdain. “Now, I can’t confirm it, but I strongly suspect that her Amortentia did smell of you.” Sebastian gave her a disbelieving look and sent the pea back across the table at her. “I agree that it lacks proof, but I do happen to know for a fact that she does have feelings for you. She told me herself.”

“She what?” That caught Sebastian’s attention, and that of a few people around them as well. Imelda shot them all a glare and they quickly turned back to their own conversations.

“If you tell her I told you I will hunt you down like the animal you are and use you as target practice for the beaters. I know where you sleep, Sallow.”

“She…” Sebastian was at a loss for words as he looked at Poppy for confirmation, who nodded uncertainly in agreement. “I need to go speak to her,” he muttered, more to himself than the girls in front of him. He continued to murmur quietly to himself as he hauled himself up and out of the Great Hall, his expression wavering between surprise and bliss as he left.

“When did Y/N tell you she liked Sebastian?” Poppy asked once he had left.

“Oh, she didn’t. But I think we can both agree neither of them was going to do anything without a nudge, don’t you? Could you pass the pumpkin juice?”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as she snuck back into the Slytherin Common Room. It was nearing midnight, and although she wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed she trudged through the silent room instead to sit and wait for Sebastian by the fireplace. After leaving the Great Hall, Y/N had trekked her way up to the Room of Requirement to spend some time taking care of the various magical beasts in her vivarium. The animals couldn’t pester her like people did, asking her questions she didn’t want to answer, and worst, ones she didn’t have the answers to. She couldn’t understand why everyone was pushing their way into her business; why did it matter what (or who, she thought dryly) she could smell in the Amortentia? So what if she could smell Sebastian, and who was Imelda freaking Reyes to tell her she had feelings for her best friend.

Well, Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she stared into the dying embers, he was rather handsome. Something he would take great satisfaction in if she admitted it out loud. And she supposed, if she was really thinking about it, he was quite funny, and charming, and smart, and possibly the kindest person she knew, and - oh Merlin, she had feelings for Sebastian Sallow.

He was her best friend, and hadn’t her aunt always told her those made for the best life partners? Not someone who you just existed with, but someone who knew you, knew every part of you, and would still stand by you. Not that she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with him. Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks as an unwarranted image of her in a white dress and Sebastian looking absolutely striking in a suit came to mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A low voice startled her, and Y/N pressed a hand to her chest as she took note of Sebastian sitting in the armchair next to her. He bit his lip in amusement at her shock, but was smart enough to keep his comments to himself.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough to watch you groan to yourself twice and turn the most enticing shade of pink,” he teased. “Where do you keep going today?”he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sebastian offered. Yes, Y/N thought to herself, you can start by bathing in bubotuber pus.

“I’ll be fine, Sebastian. There’s no need to fret.”

“You battle trolls for fun, I think there is some need to fret.”

“You’ve battled more than one troll with me, too.”

“Ah, but there’s the obvious difference. You don’t worry for me the same way.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N sat upright in her chair, a withering glare on her features. “Of course I worry about you, you idiot.”

“Why is everyone calling me an idiot tonight?”

“Clearly it’s warranted,” Y/N sniffed in annoyance and sank back down into her seat. How dare he say she didn’t worry for him, all she’s done for the past two years was worry about him.

Sebastian could tell he had said the wrong thing. He knew - of course he knew - that she worried and cared for him. No one else would have witnessed and experienced everything they had together in their fifth year and still stood by him afterwards. It was never a question to Y/N whether he needed forgiving. Even Ominis, who had been with him since before he could remember, needed a while to come back around and speak to Sebastian again, but she didn’t. Granted, it had taken a couple of weeks as things had happened in quick succession, from the death of his uncle, to fighting Harlow, then Rookwood, to finally defeating Ranrok; but there Y/N was, sitting next to him at Professor Fig’s memorial, silent tears running down her face as she clutched his hand tightly for comfort.

“I apologise,” he reached out to take her hand. “It seems I’m not quite done putting my foot in my mouth whenever you’re around.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Her words were flat, but she squeezed his hand back gently to let him know all was forgiven. Sebastian had the overwhelming urge to take Y/N into his arms and never let go, but also reprimand her at the same time. She was always the first to call him out when he was being a prat - which, he admitted to himself, happened more often than not - but she always forgave him for it moments later.

He took a moment to watch as she stared into the flames once more. His eyes roamed over her features, from her brilliant eyes, down the slope of her nose and rested on her mouth. Y/N could give any Ravenclaw a run for their money with the amount of wit she fired, and even though Sebastian was often on the receiving end, he loved it. He loved the way she rolled her eyes at him when she shot a particularly sarcastic or dry comment his way; he loved when she teased him and made him question his sanity and oh, he adored it when she would shoot him a rare, flirtatious comment.

He loved her.

The thought took his breath from him. He had said it out loud in the Great Hall earlier, but it was unintentional, and he wasn’t quite sure of it then, but now…now he was sure. He was in love with her. Every part. He wanted to share every day, every night, every moment with her.

“You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied without thinking. He watched as a faint blush dusted Y/N’s cheeks and his heart stuttered in his chest. How could he ever doubt how he felt for her? “What did you smell in the Amortentia?” Sebastian asked, a sudden surge of confidence hitting him.

“Sebastian,” Y/N sighed heavily, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Y/N turned to look at him, a pleading look on her face. She was tired, so tired, at having to pretend she wasn’t irrevocably head over heels for the man next to her. She feared if he asked her any more questions he would see straight through her, and then their friendship would be ruined and he would want nothing more to do with her. No, the logical part of her brain replied, Sebastian is too nice for that. Instead he would let her down gently, with the soft tone one would reserve for an injured animal or a sick child.

“I could smell you,” he blurted out. Y/N blinked once, not quite sure she had heard him properly, before looking over at him slowly. “Your perfume, to be more specific. And the smell of rain, from the night we danced out in it. Also those strawberry tarts you love to eat at breakfast.” He stood from his seat before sinking to his feet so he could kneel in front of her on the stone floor. “All I could smell was you.”

“Sebastian…”

“What did you smell?” he asked her again, a hint of desperation in his eyes. She thought there was nothing more between them but friendship, that he could never look at her the way she wanted him t, but the look in his eyes right now…Merlin, how could she ever think that? Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down at him and watched as his hands came to rest on her knees gently. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material of her trousers and all she could think of was more. She wanted more. “Darling? I’m putting my heart on the line here.”

“It was you,” she whispered after a moment, afraid to say it much louder. “You, when we danced in the rain. You, when you showed me the clearing full of wildflowers. Just…you. It was all you, Sebastian.” She met his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s always been you, I just didn’t realise it until lately.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he teased lightly. He raised his hand to wipe away a stray tear, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” Y/N let out a sound that was between a sob and a chuckle and slid down so she was kneeling on the floor with Sebastian. “I think I was too scared to tell you before, so I pretended like it didn’t exist. These feelings have been bottled up for so long, only to be let out now…” she wiped away her own tears this time and offered him a rueful smile.

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “it seems we’ve both been a little slow, hm? How could you not see I’m hopelessly head over heels for you?” He rested his forehead on hers, watching with slight satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation and longing. “You have been, and always will be, my one and only.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” Y/N protested weakly. Sebastian chuckled quietly and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, and knew she was deep in thought when she started to chew on her lower lip thoughtfully.

“Come back to me, what are you thinking?”

“It’s highly improper.”

“My favourite,” he smiled crookedly and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Tell me.” Instead, after a brief moment of hesitation, Y/N closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his gently. She pulled away all too soon for Sebastian’s liking, her eyes darting across his face for any reaction he disapproved of - or worst, didn’t enjoy - their chaste kiss. He pulled her back in slowly, giving her more than enough time to pull away should she choose to do so, and pressed his lips back to her sweetly.

From the other end of the Common Room, Imelda watched quietly as the couple kissed each other with stomach-churning sweetness, and as she turned to leave she made a mental note to boast to Poppy first thing in the morning that she was right yet again.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #hogwarts game #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy #awkwardauthormasterlist #awkwardauthorwrites #awkwardauthor

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hitomisuzuya · 3 months ago

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Foul Legacy (Tartaglia) x fem!reader. Smut. Misuse of Hydro Vision/Hydro tentacles. Size kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Two brief mentions of anal play.

I know this is different then what I normally write, but I wanted to get this out of my system. If Childe can make whole ass weapons from Hydro, then he can manifest tentacles 😤

It took you months, many months to convince Tartaglia to fuck you in his Foul Legacy form. He was pretty firm on the answer being no. When you asked him why, he said he might accidentally lose control, and break you in half. His size was also a factor.

Too bad for Tartaglia that his reasons send a jolt of curious arousal through you.

You even went as far as saying, "Just treat it like you would combat."

Tartaglia has a tried and true method that always works when you brought it this up. One that he thought worked well enough until now: fuck you until you were senseless and drooling, even babbling about how you wanted him to fuck a baby inside of you.

However, you started pouting your lower lip out when you asked in a way that made him weak. He finally relented, coming up a method that would help you prove you could take his size.

Never for one second did you think it would be anything like this.

A Hydro tentacle was secured around your wrists, dangling you in front of Tartaglia, now transformed into Foul Legacy. Two tentacles circled and teased around your nipples, with one more pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.

He has a unique form of sensation from the tentacles, all of it transferring straight to his cock. He could your walls clenching around the tentacle like his cock was inside you. You were defenseless dangling in front of Foul Legacy, forced to look at his thick, leaking cock getting harder the more he abused your hole as shameless moans spilled from your throat.

An embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. "Aww, what's the look for? You weren't all shy proudly boasting you could take my cock like this," Tartaglia cooed, cocking another tentacle up to agonizingly circle your swollen clit before curling around to circle your other hole teasingly.

You jolted in the tentacles grasp, your moans becoming tinged with whimpers. He laughed at the your reaction. "I don't know why I didn't do this sooner," He is absolutely trembling. Not from exertion, but from euphoria.

The same euphoria he got when he felt blood lust in the heat of battle. You are his prey, and his prize for catching you would doing whatever he pleased. Groaning, he rutted into the hand stroking his cock as he watched you struggle to grind and squirm on the tentacle.

You opened your mouth in an attempt to form words, but what came out were moans that sounded twice as shameless trying to convey you were going to cum. Tartaglia somehow understood what you trying to say.

"Going to cum from a little foreplay?" He teased, prodding the tip of the tentacle around your other hole for a moment just to see you shake more. "How cute. You sure aren't disappointing me," The pace of the tentacle increased, and you could feel his predatory gaze cutting right to the bone behind his mask.

He was assaulting sensitive places on your body all at once, your body quaking from the slippery stimulation of the tentacles on your nipples sending extra jolts of pleasure to your clit. "You are practically drooling," A tentacle came up to poke at your lips.

Your tongue lewdly swept out to curl around the tentacle, your moans turning muffled as he pushed into your mouth. He could feel the greedy sucking of your mouth on the tentacle on his pulsing cock.

Tartaglia was enjoying the utter sadism of it all. Your pussy was stretching apart so well around the tentacle, your shaking little body struggling to keep up with the onslaught of pleasure snowballing all your senses. The tentacle was only about half the size of his massive cock.

You let out a muffled moan of protest as he took the tentacles off of your nipples, and out of your pussy and mouth. Leaving the tentacle wrapped around your wrists, he brought you to dangle over his cock. Your pussy in anticipation as you looked down at it.

His cock was bigger than you originally anticipated, and you more than felt that as he grinded his cockhead against your pussy. "We will see how long you last," He sounded utterly gleeful as his hands found your hips.

Your shivered as his talons pressed against your flesh as he lowered you onto his cock. Your body tensed in pain, your back arching as you felt every pulse and drag of his cock stretching you apart. It shocked you into momentary silence.

You felt a tentacle slither across your clit, immediately drawing moans from you again. He struggled to be as gentle as he could. At first. Your pussy just felt too good tightening and struggling to accommodate him. "So..so..big," You finally managed to moan your only coherent words since this all started.

Tartaglia growled in approval. Holding you in place, he bottomed out with a short, fluid stroke of his hips. Blood beaded underneath his claws as he brought down further on his cock, a near scream of pleasure tearing from you the pain suddenly shattered into euphoria.

When you didn't think you could stretch apart any more, you swiftly proven wrong as his cock bullied relentlessly into your sweet spot. You were fast falling apart as he practically rearranged your guts he was that deep.

Tartaglia guided you up and down on his cock, the Hydro tentacles curling up around your nipples again. You mewled in pleasure, your walls squeezing around his cock. He left the tentacle secured around your wrists so he could have both his hands fucking you onto his cock, he knew he was too big for you to ride it without his help.

"That's right, keep moaning just like while I fuck you full," Tartaglia groaned, hissing as he felt your walls tightening on the verge of being shoved over the edge. He increased his pace, eager you feel you shatter while you creamed on his cock.

This was the most intensely intimate experience of your life. Your body felt limp in grips of overwhelming pleasure, your eyes half lidded and hazy as you as your body jolted in pleasure. His cock kissing into your sweet spot as the tentacle assaulted your clit and nipples ultimately made you come apart.

"Fuck, you are cumming hard," Tartaglia moaned as your pussy spasmed on his cock. His claws skimmed soothingly as on your hips as you shook from your orgasm. The sensation made cum ribbon inside of you.

He grit his teeth, fucking you down onto his cock as he fierce need to breed you thoroughly consumed him. His cum was bound to come seeping out of you when he pulled out. He was determined to fuck as much of it inside of you as he could.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #tartaglia #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #childe #childe smut #childe x you #childe x reader #childe x y/n #foul legacy

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hazeyysworld · 3 months ago

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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

character: george weasley x f! reader

genre: soft fluff

summary: staying with george after his “holy” wound

warnings: brief mentions of blood and his wound

words: 887

.・。.・゜✭・.

During the Hogwarts war, Mad-eye Moody had given Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Ron polyjuice potions to disguise themselves as Harry Potter.

George had gone with Lupin and soon was hit accidentally by Snape's sectumsempra spell which cut his ear off.

George had come back, weak, and was laying on the sofa bleeding thoroughly when you had noticed the commotion from the kitchen..

You let out a gasp, “George..” You say softly, rushing in from the kitchen. You had stayed at the Burrow with Molly.

George slowly moves his head to look up at you, offering you a smile albeit an incredibly weak one.

“Oh Georgie..” You whisper out quietly, nearly down at his side as Molly runs her fingers through his hair.

“How- how are you feeling?” You ask, resting your hand on his arm.

It takes him a moment to reply, “..Saint like..I’m holy Y/n..I’m holy..you get it?” He says, pointing at the hole where his ear was.

“You- you are pathetic George Weasley..” You softly say with a small smile, leaning your head onto the couch.

George chuckles softly, wincing as Molly carefully starts to clean his wound up. He looks at you gently, his chest still rising and falling irregularly.

”Yeah, I just wanted to make you smile is all.” He says, watching you lean your head on the couch by him.

You smile at his words, he always found a way to warm you up no matter the situation, “Get some rest George..” You whisper out, leaning up to place a kiss to his forehead as you watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, sleep overcoming him.

George slowly nods before falling asleep within minutes. As you continue to watch him, Molly pats your shoulder.

”He’ll be fine, dear. I’m surprised that boy is still so cheeky, given the circumstances.” She says, giving you a smile.

“Yeah..” You whisper out, finally moving from your position as you feel everyone else start to move and shift a bout.

Some hours pass, you sit leaning against the couch, watching George’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

George slowly stirs a few hours later, a small groan falling from his lips as he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees being your face.

”Hey..” He mutters tiredly, a groggy smile on his lips.

“Hi..” You say, a tired yet genuine smile on your face, reaching for his hand to lace your fingers together with his.

George smiles a little as you gently intertwine your fingers with his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

”How long have I been out for?” He asks quietly, his eyes still on yours.

“Just a few hours..” You say, eyes wandering from his to the bandages wrapped around his head, “How are you feeling?”

He groans softly, slowly sitting up into a more upright position, pulling your hand gently into his lap and gently tracing his fingers along the back of it.

”I feel like I’ve been hit full force in the head with a bludger. Apart from that, I’m good.” He teases lightly.

“Right..of course..” You say with a giggle, looking up at him with a smile.

George gently grins at the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixated on your face as he continues tracing his fingers along the back of your hand in his lap.

”You look beautiful, love.” He says quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly to look at you properly.

“Thank you George..” You whisper out, “You look quite…holy..” You say with a grin.

George laughs out softly, rolling his eyes playfully at your comment before gently poking your side with his free hand.

”Oh shush, you know you’d prefer me with both of my ears.”

“Oh..I’m not too sure about that Georgie..” You say with a smile, “The one ear thing is really starting to grow on me..”

“Oh yeah, you find it attractive, do you?” He asks, grinning at you as he leans closer to you and lowers his voice. His grin only grows wider as he notices your cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

“Oh definitely..” You say with a giggle, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Harry sits awake nearby, thinking about how in his fourth year George was too scared to ask you to the Yule Ball, so you asked him yourself.

He remembers the moment exactly, the way George’s face turned as red as his hair as you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He remembers the way Dean, Lee, and others had teased and made fun of the Weasley twin.

He remembers in his first year when George was too afraid to even speak to you when you would approach them, he would stutter and look away awkwardly- not knowing how to speak to a girl, let alone his crush.

Harry remembers the first time he saw you two in Hogsmeade, your fingers laced with George’s, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at you.

In Harry’s eyes you two were to get married, to survive the war and spend the rest of your time together.

In George’s eyes, you were the witch he wanted to stay with for the rest of your lives.

.・。.・゜✭・.

notes: yay! first fic in the books, hoping to put more out soon- sorry if it wasn’t too good! please send in any requests!

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spaceyaceface · 1 year ago

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You Were The First

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it.

Or, Ominis gets love because by god does he deserve it.

Warnings: Mentions/Implications of child abuse

God, I loved writing this. Thank you so much for the request, anon!

When Ominis Gaunt fell in love, he fell slowly.

It was all the little things she did—the little things that made up who she was. Her kindness. Her patience. Her touch.

Before meeting her, touch meant nothing but pain. It was kicking and screaming as his mother dragged him along by his arm, harsh shoves from uncaring hands toppling to the ground, a cruel hand curled over his own, taking any control he might have and forcing a curse out of him.

He’d been avoiding it ever since. Even Sebastian and Anne knew his aversion, careful not to grab him or brush against him.

But somehow, she made his walls come tumbling down.

Perhaps he started to fall that first time she saved him a seat at breakfast.

It was one of the first breakfasts of their sixth year—the Great Hall was bustling, students running back and forth to catch up with friends and share adventures from over the summer. That was exactly what Sebastian was doing; he could hear his friend’s loud laugh as he spoke to someone at the Hufflepuff table. He’d expected her to be doing the same, her popularity as the Hero of Hogwarts was unmatched. Surely everyone would want to know what she’d been up to.

He’d just settled on the idea of grabbing an apple off the table and leaning against the wall well out of harm’s way when a voice called out to him. Her voice.

“Ominis! Ominis, right here, I’ve saved a seat for you!”

His mouth fell open—just slightly. “You… you saved a seat…?”

“Yes, now get over here before Sebastian barrels past and steals it, I wouldn’t put it past him,” she said, smile obvious in her voice.

And so he obliged.

He settled down on the bench, all thoughts of retreating to some far corner vanishing as she began to rattle on about her summer. In turn, he answered all her questions about his own time, best he could with the way his head was spinning. Of everyone in the school, she had saved a spot for him. She allowed him to take all her time, steal away every morsel of her attention. There was a lightness that came with that thought. A warm feeling he couldn’t quite name—not yet.

But now that he’d felt it, he knew he’d starve for it.

The next step into his descent was the first time she placed her hand on his arm.

Herbology was always a bit chaotic—not nearly as much as Potions, no thanks to a certain Gryffindor—but chaotic nonetheless. Professor Garlick had laid out all the necessary tools and supplies on each table, and after her brief explanation on how to prune and shape the plants in front of them, she set them loose.

Sebastian stood to Ominis’s right, grabbing some small cutters and starting on his plant quickly.

“Sebastian, you’re making a mess of it already. She said to start from the top and go down, didn’t you hear a word she just said?” a voice said from his left.

Ominis chuckled. “Since when has Sebastian ever been one to listen to anything?” He reached forward, grabbing his own cutters. He heard his friend grumble under his breath. “Don’t pout, you know I’m right.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not offended by it,” Sebastian said.

“You’re offended by everything, Seb,” she said.

“What is this? Attack Sebastian Sallow Day?”

“No, but I’d be an avid celebrator if there was such a thing.”

As Sebastian continued mumbling complaints, he felt it—her hand, just barely resting on his arm. “Sorry,” she said softly, leaning forward and across the table. “I’m just grabbing the fertilizer.” And then her touch was gone.

It was nothing. Just a simple indication that she was there, making sure a blind man didn’t accidentally stab her with a sharp object. And yet it felt… different, somehow. His skin was tingling as he tried to resume his work with the plant. It was only later he realized that, unlike so many times others had made a similar motion, he hadn’t flinched or pulled away.

In spite of himself, he sort of wished she would do it again.

He came to a realization the first time she explained a Quidditch match to him.

The realization was thus—she was even more kind than anyone he’d ever met. It was her very first match, and she had been elated to attend after Professor Black had announced the continuation of the sport at the beginning of the year. Normally, Ominis wouldn’t care too much about it. He rarely went to matches in previous years, only being dragged along by Sebastian when Slytherin was up in the running to take the cup. Crowds weren’t his thing. And trying to understand anything that was going on based solely off the oohing and ahhing of a crowd gave him a headache. But this year, Sebastian was making his debut as Slytherin’s Keeper, and that paired with her excitement to see the match was enough to draw him out to the stands.

They sat next to each other, nestled into the crowd of Slytherins eagerly anticipating the game. He could only imagine how high up they were—there had been plenty of stairs to indicate it was nothing insignificant. The breeze that high up was cooler, and Ominis was grateful for it, allowing himself to focus on it instead of the people pressing in all around him.

But when the match started, his focus shifted entirely to the soft voice next to him.

In the past, he had always found the commentary on the match entirely unhelpful, and even more uninteresting. He could never get a picture of what was going on—the announcer would always press opinions on players and use the names of the different plays, which was ridiculous because Ominis had no clue what any of the plays meant.

She, on the other hand, explained it all wonderfully.

She wasn’t perfect—not even close, stumbling over words and gasping at times when an action surprised her. But for the first time, Ominis could follow. He found himself cheering, breath catching as he heard the whoosh of a broom overhead. The tone and expression in her voice was so lively, so dedicated, he wanted to take part in it.

“Weasley’s flying fast toward the goals,” she commented. “Blimey, he should be Seeker with that speed. Imelda’s flown into his path, he’s going to crash—No, he dodged her, straight over her head—he’s throwing the Quaffle, come on Seb—YES!”

He let out a cry of celebration as his friend beside him whooped and hollered, cheering loudly for Sebastian. It wasn’t long until they won the match, and the crowd of Slytherins roared like a raging sea. He followed her out of the stands and into the common room, where a party was already commencing. Sebastian managed to break away from his adoring fans. The Hero of Hogwarts leapt up and nearly pushed him over in a wild embrace. Sebastian laughed.

“You were wonderful out there!” she said, pulling away.

Ominis could hear the grin in his friend’s voice. “I couldn’t let your first match be a disappointment, now could I?” His feet shifted, turning to Ominis. “And really, Ominis, thank you for coming. I know Quidditch isn’t your favorite.”

“If I’m honest, I rather enjoyed myself,” he said. He nodded his head toward her beside him. “This one has a knack for explaining the game. She told me enough that I can sincerely say, well played.”

“Then seems like you’ll have to go to all of the matches together,” Sebastian said.

Ominis frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t want to impose on—”

“No, I like that idea,” she said. His heart beat a bit faster. “I want you to be able to enjoy it just as much as the rest of us, Ominis.”

He couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the night. When Sebastian asked about it, he blamed it on having too much Butterbeer.

When he let her lead him by his arm that very first time, he knew he trusted her.

He’d known for a while—but now, through his actions, he had admitted it to her. To himself.

Winter had set in. The two of them left the Three Broomsticks, bundled up and ready for the cold. He reached for his wand, pausing when he heard her speak up beside him.

“Your hand is going to freeze holding it out like that all the way to the castle. I can lead you, if you’d like.”

He pondered it for a moment—only a moment—and then he gave in.

“If you think it’ll keep me from getting frostbite.”

He sucked in a breath as her arm looped around his. How had she done it so gently? After a second, when he’d begun to breathe properly, he nodded. “Off we go, then.”

It was strange, how he had surrendered so easily. When he had first gotten his wand, the world finally felt livable. He no longer had to shuffle around, arms outstretched, waiting for his brothers to jump out at him. He could fend for himself. Prove his independence. There was no longer a need to rely on anyone.

Why did he rely so effortlessly on her?

The truth came to him with a sudden thought as she took him through the streets, navigating expertly through the throng of students returning to the castle. He trusted her. She had always looked out for him. Cared when he felt no one else did. She made efforts to be around him, to involve him, even when he tried to push away. Ominis Gaunt did not trust easily. But she had proved herself worthy of that sentiment in every turn.

The slight tug of her arm in his jolted him back to that moment. “We’re at the stairs,” she said quietly. “There’s six of them.”

He’d trust her with his life.

They seemed to walk closer and closer together as the castle drew nearer. It was the cold, he told himself. Just the instinctual craving for warmth drawing their sides together. Simple as that.

But they still walked arm in arm through the halls of Hogwarts, leaving the excuse of the chill and snow far behind them.

The first time she held his hand, he finally felt alive.

Their sixth years had come to a close and the Hogwarts Express was waiting to take them home. They’d spend the last few months in what he considered bliss. They stopped looking for excuses to take each other's arms at some point—just letting it happen. Strolls on the castle ground. Between classes. Anywhere and everywhere they went together. Sebastian teased them a bit at the action, but Ominis claimed it was just easier than using his wand. He didn’t have to concentrate on a spell while walking about. It was true—but really, it hadn’t been inconvenient the five years before that, had it?

But now his dear friend gave a low sigh beside him. “This crowd is awful,” she said, glowering at the students around them. “I don’t know how we’re going to make it on the train in time.”

“I’m sure we’ll be—”

He stopped mid sentence, feeling her fingers interlock with his.

“I think I see a path, come on now.”

She nearly tipped him over as she pulled him along. He managed to remember how to walk just in time to catch himself, allowing her to lead him through the hustle and bustle around them. How did this feel so entirely different than being led by her arm? How could he only focus on how soft the skin of her knuckles felt under his thumb? How could he feel like he was dreaming, but never felt more aware in the same moment?

They stopped in front of the train, doors open before them. She didn’t let go. Neither did he. But the train let out a whistle, and the sound brought him back in an instant. Their hands dropped, and the loss of the intimate feeling of her fingers between his knocked the air out him like the perfect Depulso.

“We made it,” she said softly.

“Barely.”

She laughed. He might as well have been a fish for how much he was struggling to breathe. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, voice softening.

“I wish I could say the same,” he said, smirking. He felt her hit his arm, stifling a laugh.

“You’re awful.”

“You’re the one who laughed.”

“Goodbye, Ominis,” she said, still chuckling. After a moment, she spoke again, a little quieter. “I’ll write you.”

His stomach flipped. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Then she was gone, taking part of him with her.

He knew he was in love the moment he got her first letter.

What was it some fool had once said? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? What a load of dung.

Absence made the heart ache so much it nearly killed him. And it had only been a day.

He knew it was from her the moment the lingering scent of her perfume hit him. He smiled. She kept her word—he had never doubted she would. He was just relieved she had done so so soon.

Quickly, he pulled out his wand and transfigured the words on the parchment, running his fingers over them. He paused where she had written his name. Every letter filled him with warmth as he poured over the short letter.

Dear Ominis,

I realize we only saw each other yesterday, but I wanted to assure you it wasn’t an empty promise when I said I would write you.

I really don’t have too much to share—my mother was more than pleased to see me, of course. Wailed when I came home as if I’d come back from the dead. She’s still not used to me being away for so long. I’ve just begun unpacking, and honestly, it just makes me wish I was back at Hogwarts with you and Sebastian.

How are you? I do hope you’re alright. I worry about you going home, you know. I can’t help it. I’ll be inviting both you and Sebastian to my home as soon as I’m settled in—please do survive until then.

Yours,

He closed his eyes as he felt her name beneath his fingertips. She was worried about him. She’d be inviting him. The warmth and elation he felt was so unlike the cold halls that surrounded him. He could survive—he’d do it for her.

How she could make him feel happiness—hope—in a house so tainted with pain was beyond him. He never would he have thought he could have a moment of something good there, a memory worth keeping after he abandoned the place.

Finally, he had a name for that warmth, the one that overtook him every time she crossed his thoughts. Love. Deep, profound, and lasting. It was more than he could have imagined, overwhelming and pure. How could he have lived to this point without it?

He read the letter once more before pulling out his quill and beginning to write.

The first time he thought she might feel the same coincided with the first time she laid her head on his shoulder.

She had kept yet another of her promises. It was only a couple of weeks before he was off to her house, finally free from the suffocating marble halls of the manor. His escape lasted only for ten days, but it gave him what he needed to keep going.

Though being with her was definitely what fueled him the most.

Laughing with her and Sebastian made the stress of being around his parents melt off of him much faster than he would have imagined. Their ten days had been full of exploring the woods around her house, of playing Gobstones, of laying in fields and telling old stories.

Ten days of her hand brushing his as they sat together. Ten days of catching his breath when she spoke. Ten days of falling harder than he ever thought possible.

Because now that he knew what it was he was feeling, it was there in everything she did. He was drowning in it, and he’d stay under with a smile on his face.

Sebastian bid them farewell on that final evening. Ominis would be gone back home in the morning—he tried desperately to push that thought away, focusing instead on spending every moment with her he could. They’d wandered to the overgrown park not far from her home, coming to rest on a bench hidden away in the trees. Crickets sang around them, and Ominis basked in the cool summer night by her side.

“Are you going to be ok when you go back?” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

He gave a small smile, one he hoped was reassuring. “I’ve lived this long. Two more months will be nothing.”

She sighed. “It won’t be a full two months. I’ll make sure of it. If you can’t come here again, we’ll go to Sebastian’s.”

“You worry about me too much.”

“I think I worry just enough,” she stated simply.

Her words made his chest time. How could he ever begin to explain what they meant to him? She cared for him. It was enough to shatter him if he let it. He couldn’t say what he wanted to—not yet. He’d find a way, someday. But he told her what he could by reaching for her hand, locking their fingers together. And when she leaned into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder, maybe, maybe, that was her way of saying she understood.

His stiff body slowly relaxed against hers, and he thought about nothing but the slow draws of her breath, the way her hair tickled against his jaw, the love he felt for the angel of the girl sitting pressed against him.

The first time she held him he fell apart.

Their little trio had stayed up late in celebration of their last school year, playing Exploding Snap well into the night. The Undercroft echoed their joyous sounds as the hours passed by, until Sebastian pulled himself away, saying he wanted to pay a visit to the Restricted Section for old time’s sake. It wasn’t long until she and Ominis were saying their goodnights to each other.

It had been a perfect last first day, exactly what he’d needed after spending so much time at the manor. He’d left for what he was determined to be the last time. There was no better way to celebrate.

He could think of no better way of ending it than saying goodnight to the girl he loved.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, a small smile on his lips.

“God, I missed you,” she breathed. “Goodnight, Ominis.”

But before he could open the door, her arms wrapped around his chest.

The result was immediate. His heart raced, and his throat grew tight. He couldn’t breath—how could he, with her holding him so tightly? Her head was against his chest, and for a split second he was afraid she might pull away when she heard the pound of it. It was that moment of fear that brought his arms around her, holding her to him like he had nothing left.

It felt like dying when she pulled away from him. She sucked in a breath. “Ominis, are you alright?”

“What… what do you—”

“You’re crying.”

She was right. He felt the tears, now, traitorously running down his face. He quickly brought up the sleeve of his robe to wipe them away.

“Is it something I did? I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He took a shuddering breath. “I just… You’re the first person who’s ever…”

Ever what? There were a million ways he could finish that sentence, and all would be true. The first who had ever held me. The first who has ever cared so deeply. The first to touch him with nothing but kindness. She was the first person to break down his walls, to give him life, to let him love and be loved.

Somehow, she seemed to understand his silence. She took him into her arms once more, and he let himself come crashing down. Sobs worked their way through—both sadness and joy mingled together in an utter mess of emotion. How could he have gone his whole life without this? Without feeling safe, without outstretched arms to run to? But he had found it. A person he could call his home, who would hold him when he fell apart. He was grateful. So grateful.

They never went back up to their dorms that night.

He was determined today would be the first time he kissed her.

Since that night in the Undercroft, every touch between them felt natural. Part of their beings. He came to her effortlessly, letting his arms pull her to him. His hand felt foreign when it wasn’t in hers. But yet, he had yet to confess the depths of his feelings for her.

He knew exactly why—she was patient. They’d started this whole thing nearly two years ago now. She’d always gone at his pace, waiting for him to be ready for each new step. They didn’t need to say the words. It was obvious to both of them. But Merlin, he wanted to.

She needed to know just how much she meant to him. The joy she brought into his life without even trying. It had been a long time coming, but now, he was ready.

He’d taken her out to Hogsmeade. It was the perfect spring day—cool breeze carrying the scent of Butterbeer clear out of the Three Broomsticks. The sun was just beginning to set, and they were on course to return to the castle when he stopped her.

“Could I take you somewhere?” he said softly.

“Of course,” she said, a little perplexed. He smiled, taking out his wand to guide the both of them, other hand still in hers. He led them down a path, then turned sharply into the woods. The trail he followed was light barely there, mostly grown over by foliage. But he heard the sound of the creek and knew he was close.

The trees gave way into a small opening, the melody of water trickling just beyond it. He smiled.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

“Good. I hoped it would be.” His wand returned to his pocket, and he took both her hands, facing her.

It was her turn for her breath to catch. It was only fair after all the times he’d done so because of her. Did he look as lovesick as he felt?

“You are everything to me, do you know that?” he said softly. His hand reached up, following the curve of her neck up to her jaw, where it came to rest. “Everything.”

“Ominis…”

The way she breathed his name sent shivers through him. And her breath on his lips—Merlin, how had he waited so long?

“I love you.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond—he’d let her say it soon enough. But he needed to prove himself to her, show her just what he meant when he said everything. His lips came crashing down against hers, and at that moment he decided every second not spent kissing her was a second wasted. Like everything about her, she was gentle. She was warm. She was soft. Like everything about her, he couldn’t get enough. He thought he’d give her a chaste kiss, but he was only a man, and a starving one at that.

He only pulled away when his lungs felt like they would burst, and his chest heaved under her resting hand.

“I love you,” she said, voice hoarse. “God, I love you.”

He decided that night would be the second time he kissed her, too.

After that he lost count.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine

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slutforcleo · 4 months ago

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givin matty a handjob …

“fuck.” he mumbles under his breath, attempting to hide the fact that he was quite literally falling apart. You couldn’t help the smile that came onto your lips, subtly speeding up your pace. “like this?” You ask gently, causing him to nod immediately. “yeah yeah yeah.”

taking your other hand, you gently play with his balls, tugging them gently. He’d groan, his eyes closed as he tried to hold back his orgasm. “y’look so pretty like this, Matty.” you whisper. Causing the boy to whimper. “Shit.” He stumbles. “I’m gonna cum.” He murmurs, making you grin, giving his balls a gentle squeeze.

he groans softly, bucking his hips up into your hand. he couldn’t bite back the multiple pathetic sounds that left his mouth as he came. hard. making a mess on his stomach and part of the sheets. And there you sat, a silly little smile on you face as you watch mattheo gather himself once more.

need that.

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deadghosy · 4 months ago

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OMINIS & SEBASTIAN WITH A BLIND! READER HEADCANNONS

A/N: can be seen as platonic or romantic

If you aren’t as skilled like Ominis, you best hope you had a blind cane. And that cane was Sebastian. Or you did actually have a blind cane.

Ominis could try to teach you if you want. He wishes you could see the same way he can. He will be very happy to teach you dear

You three holding hands. It’s just funny because Ominis can see for himself while you can’t really so Sebastian suggested this

If someone dared to take away your walking cane. Sebastian is literally going feral as Ominis just holds your hand while Sebastian handles the situation “well”

Sebastian or Ominis reading to you during study hall

Ominis tries to help you use your wand to navigate in the dorms as Sebastian just watched from the beds

Let’s say you accidentally fell down the stairs. Well lets just say the boys got so over protective that Sebastian suggested to piggy back you for the rest of the year

It was absolutely embarrassing and Ominis didn’t say a damn thing

Sebastian probably gets a hufflepuff to make you guys bracelets to show how powerful your friendship is. “Friendship is magic!” havin ahh 😭

When you guys cuddle, you are in the middle just being wrapped around by the boys arms

Two golden retrievers + one black cat. And you already know who is who 🫶🏾

Sometimes Sebastian is the best to the two of you. Like he is always giving good descriptions on what is happening. He likes seeing you smile at your own imagination. So he describes your smile towards Ominis who also smiles at the thought of you smiling.

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graysdarling · 5 months ago

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i believe that grayson hawthorne is the most un grayson hawthorne whenever he's drunk.

"but... why won't you kiss me? :("

"because youre drunk, gray."

"oh. but avery kisses jameson whenever he's drunk...”

"because he's drunk 24/7."

"but i want kisses too... if i get drunk 24/7 will you kiss me too?"

“NO.”

#⭑ belleyaps #the inheritance games #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the inheritance trilogy #⭑ belle loves grayson #grayson hawthorne x fem!y/n #grayson hawthorne x fem!reader #grayson hawthorne x y/n #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne

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bumblesimagines · 1 year ago

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“ i know we agreed on keeping things casual, but... “

“ it's just... ever since me and [my partner] broke up... i haven't really had much look with the whole... dating thing. “

josie

“ i know we agreed on keeping things casual, but... “

“ it's just... ever since me and [my partner] broke up... i haven't really had much look with the whole... dating thing. “

pronouns: they/them, gender neutral

trying to finish these guys off before I wrap up Midnight Beach and continue Our Flickering Light

Turning away from the homework sheet at the sound of knocking, you glanced at your dormmate's empty bed and hummed. You stood up and felt a grin spread across your face as you approached the door. For one of the top students at school, they sure were forgetful. You swung the door open and opened your mouth to greet Riley, but instead found yourself staring at Josie Saltzman.

"I-I hope it's not a bad time. I know Riley just left but if you're busy, I can come back another time." A smile replaced the grin and you chuckled at the flushing brunette, turning sideways and nodding toward the inside of your room. She perked up, cheeks still lit ablaze despite weeks having passed since the 'agreement' had been made, and she entered your dorm before her beloved twin could spot her.

"You usually don't visit this early in the day, Jo." You pointed out and took a seat on the bed, tilting your head curiously at her fidgety movements. "Did you need something?"

"I... I wanted to talk about us. About what's going on between... us." Josie spoke shyly, her fingers toying with the hem of her skirt and eyes flickering in every direction but yours. Your brows furrowed. "I know we agreed on keeping things casual, but... I feel like after all this time... maybe it'd be good to give us a proper chance. I- I think we'd be good together."

"I mean, Jo... there's a reason I wanted to keep things casual. It's just... ever since me and Hope broke up... I haven't really had much luck with the whole... dating thing. There's a lot of unresolved shit between us and you know how Hope can be. She'll say she's fine with it when she actually won't be and it'll become this whole thing... and I don't want to be the reason you two have a falling out again." You explained, wincing at the dejected look that passed over her face. Josie pressed her lips together and weakly nodded.

"So, that's a no?"

"For now. If you're willing to wait, it could become a maybe or even a yes."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #legacies #legacies x reader #legacies x y/n #legacies x male reader #legacies x female reader #legacies x gender neutral reader #josie saltzman #josie saltzman x reader #josie saltzman x female reader #josie saltzman x male reader #josie saltzman x gender neutral reader #josie saltzman x you #josie saltzman x y/n

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novaursa · 2 months ago

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Legacy (dinner with a lion)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: power play

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Tywin sits alone at the head of the table, his fingers steepled as he waits, his expression as unreadable as the darkness pooling around him. The faint rustling of armor and the heavy door opening signals the arrival of his guest, and a faint smirk tugs at Tywin's lips as Petyr Baelish enters, eyes sharp, glinting with his characteristic cunning.

"Lord Baelish," Tywin greets, his voice a quiet command in itself, and he gestures for Petyr to join him. "I trust the journey from King’s Landing was not overly burdensome."

Petyr steps forward with a slight bow, his expression betraying nothing as he takes a seat. "Lord Tywin," he replies smoothly, "one grows accustomed to the roads in these trying times. Though, it is a relief to find oneself back in civilized company."

Tywin nods slightly, acknowledging the thinly veiled compliment, though his gaze remains sharp. "There is much to discuss, Littlefinger. I trust your recent activities in the capital have yielded… profitable results?"

Baelish’s lips curve in a shadow of a smile, his hands folding on the table before him. "Profitable indeed, my lord. The city is ever a place of opportunities for those with an eye keen enough to see them. But I must admit, I did not expect to find you here in Harrenhal… or to hear of a rather unique guest in your company."

Tywin’s expression remains unreadable, though a glint in his eye betrays his satisfaction. "Ah, yes. The rumors travel quickly, I see. It is true. She’s here."

Littlefinger raises an eyebrow, his tone careful. "The sister of Rhaegar Targaryen herself. I’d thought her lost to the North, tucked away under the Starks’ protection."

"The Starks’ protection can only go so far, especially in times such as these." Tywin’s tone is cold, final. "Lady Y/N’s presence here is… fortuitous, and I intend to ensure she remains under Lannister protection from now on."

Petyr’s face shifts, his surprise only barely concealed. "Lannister protection," he repeats, musing over the words, his fingers drumming lightly against the table. "So… I am to assume her role will extend beyond mere ‘protection’?”

Tywin’s lips thin into a faint smile, a calculated gleam in his eyes. "Quite astute, as always, Lord Baelish. Lady Y/N will accompany me back to the capital, where preparations for our union will commence."

For the first time, Petyr’s mask falters, his expression flickering with a trace of genuine surprise. He recovers quickly, smoothing his expression back into one of neutral interest. “Your union?” he asks, as if testing the weight of the words.

"Indeed," Tywin replies, his gaze unwavering. "A union that will serve to secure her position—and mine. A Targaryen, legitimized under Lannister rule, will silence whispers on both sides. There are… strategic benefits to the arrangement."

Petyr’s eyes narrow, the cogs turning in his mind as he weighs this unexpected twist. “A fascinating decision, my lord. I must admit, I didn’t think you the type to take a wife again.”

Tywin’s gaze hardens just slightly. "One must be prepared to make certain sacrifices, Littlefinger. This is more than a mere alliance—it is an investment in the future stability of the realm."

Baelish gives a small nod, masking his surprise with the smooth, charming smile he so often wears. "And who better than you, my lord, to secure such stability." Yet, there’s a glimmer of something deeper in his gaze—curiosity, calculation, perhaps even a hint of envy. The wheels in his mind turn, each possibility shifting into place.

Just then, the door opens again, and Arya steps in quietly, her gaze downcast as she approaches Tywin with practiced caution. She keeps her movements careful, her head bowed, hoping to avoid the sharp eyes of Petyr Baelish. There’s a stiffness in her posture, a wariness that one would notice if looked closely enough—an instinct to stay hidden, out of his direct line of sight.

She clears her throat, addressing Tywin in a low, subdued tone. “The kitchens have been notified, m’lord. They’re preparing dinner for two as you requested.”

Tywin gives a curt nod, a faint note of approval in his voice. “Good. Remember to relay instructions clearly. I don’t tolerate carelessness.”

“Yes, m’lord.” Arya’s reply is measured, steady, and she bows her head again before taking a step back, hoping to blend into the background.

Baelish glances at her, his eyes narrowing slightly, though he says nothing. Tywin’s attention returns fully to him, cutting off any opportunity for deeper scrutiny.

“Now,” Baelish continues, his tone sliding back to its usual ease, though he seems unable to completely mask his curiosity. “Your decision to bring Lady Y/N back to the capital… and to wed her… It’s a bold choice. But surely, there are risks in aligning with a Targaryen, especially with her brother’s allies still stirring trouble in the North.”

Tywin’s gaze sharpens. "Risks are inevitable in any pursuit worth undertaking. Lady Y/N is no mere Targaryen pawn; she has spent her years with the Starks, understanding the value of loyalty and the strength of alliances. She is an asset, one who will be as useful to us as she is beautiful. I would expect you, of all people, to understand the value in seizing such an advantage.”

Littlefinger inclines his head slightly, accepting the reprimand with his usual grace. “Of course, my lord. It’s clear you have considered all angles… as always.”

Tywin’s lips curl into a faint smile, though there’s a coldness in his gaze, an unwavering sense of purpose. “She will remain under our protection, a union that will secure her future and strengthen our own. And rest assured, Lord Baelish—there is nothing I have not accounted for.”

Arya shifts subtly in the background, watching the exchange with quiet intensity, her gaze carefully averted as she fights to remain unnoticed. But one can sense her unease, the tension coiled within her as Baelish’s eyes flit in her direction once more, though Tywin’s commanding presence keeps his curiosity in check.

Baelish clears his throat, breaking the silence. "It seems, then, that Lady Y/N’s fate is sealed, under Lannister protection, as you say. I shall be sure to offer my… congratulations, Lord Tywin.”

Tywin’s response is a mere nod, curt and dismissive, as if the matter were already resolved. “Indeed. There is nothing more to discuss on this subject. And as for Lady Y/N, she will be prepared for what lies ahead, with or without any further interest from others.”

With that, Tywin’s gaze flicks to Arya, signaling her dismissal. "You may go, Ary. And remember—take care to stay out of trouble. I won’t tolerate mistakes.”

Arya nods quickly, mumbling a quiet “Yes, m’lord,” before slipping out of the room, her heart pounding as she escapes Baelish’s prying eyes. She leaves Tywin and Baelish behind, aware that her role here is as dangerous as it is vital, even as the weight of Tywin’s plans settles heavily over Harrenhal, casting shadows that will follow all who stand in his path.

The chamber is warm, filled with the scent of lavender and rosewater, and for a moment, you almost forget where you are. The tub is a luxury you haven’t felt in weeks, perhaps months—hot water, scented oils, and a rare sense of solitude. Yet even as you sink deeper into the warmth, you’re keenly aware of what this bath signifies: preparation. Tywin's plans have already begun, each detail meticulously arranged, as if even your appearance belongs to him now.

After the bath, you’re helped from the water by two servants, silent and efficient as they wrap you in soft, thick cloth. They don’t look you in the eye, their faces carefully composed, trained not to betray any thoughts of their own. You’re led to a chair by the mirror, and another servant—a younger girl with nimble fingers and a gentle touch—begins to work on your hair, combing it slowly, carefully, her movements practiced.

For a time, no one speaks, the only sound the gentle scrape of the comb through your damp hair, the crackle of fire in the hearth, the whisper of fabric as they prepare the gown laid out for you.

Finally, the young girl ventures a quiet comment, her voice respectful yet tinged with a hint of curiosity. “My lady… you have beautiful hair. Unusual, like silver.”

You meet her gaze in the mirror, offering a polite smile. “Thank you,” you murmur, though the compliment feels hollow, an echo of a different life. In the North, your hair had set you apart, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, a mark of both your family’s glory and ruin. And here, in Harrenhal, that same hair becomes another detail in Tywin’s plan, something to be arranged and polished for presentation.

The girl continues her work, separating strands to braid, her fingers working with delicate precision. She doesn’t ask further questions, sensing perhaps that this is not the place for conversation, or perhaps trained to keep her thoughts hidden.

As she finishes a braid and moves to another, she glances at the woman standing near the door—an older servant, clearly in charge of overseeing your preparation. The woman nods, as if giving silent permission, and the girl reaches for a small box, retrieving something that catches the firelight—a thin golden thread, gleaming against the dull stone of the chamber.

Your breath catches. “What is that?” you ask, though you already know.

The older woman steps forward, her expression unreadable. “Lord Tywin’s orders, my lady. A touch of gold, to complement your gown.” She gestures toward the dress, a rich shade of crimson with subtle golden embroidery, unmistakably Lannister colors. “He thought it fitting.”

You bite back the urge to scoff, keeping your expression neutral. “Fitting,” you repeat softly, watching as the girl weaves the golden thread through your braid with painstaking care. The irony is not lost on you—this thread, this symbol of Lannister wealth and power, woven into your Targaryen hair, a mockery of your heritage. Even here, in this small detail, Tywin’s influence surrounds you, binding you to his house in every visible way.

The girl glances up, sensing your unease. She hesitates, fingers still for a moment, before speaking in a low, cautious voice. “Is… is it not to your liking, my lady?”

You force a small, restrained smile. “It’s… a thoughtful touch,” you reply, keeping your tone steady. “One must always consider appearances, after all.” The words feel brittle, like glass on the verge of shattering, yet the girl seems relieved, resuming her work with renewed focus.

As she finishes, she steps back to admire her handiwork, eyes bright with pride. She’s braided your hair into an intricate design, the golden thread glinting subtly, woven through each plait like veins of sunlight in silver. It’s beautiful, in a way—refined, elegant, and utterly foreign. The girl beams, clearly satisfied.

“It suits you, my lady,” she says, a note of admiration in her voice.

You look at yourself in the mirror, studying the unfamiliar reflection. The gown clings to you in shades of red and gold, Lannister colors draped over Targaryen blood. And the braids, laced with golden thread, feel like a chain, binding you in a way more powerful than any metal could.

“Fitting, indeed,” you murmur under your breath, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of your lips. To anyone else, this might look like elegance, like opulence. To you, it feels like an ironic jest, as if Tywin himself were mocking your heritage, stripping it away strand by strand.

The older woman watches you carefully, sensing the tension but saying nothing. “Lord Tywin values appearances,” she says finally, her voice neutral, almost mechanical. “A mark of respect, my lady, to make you feel at ease.”

“At ease,” you echo, a quiet scoff escaping despite yourself. “Yes, I’m sure his intentions are nothing but respectful.”

The woman says nothing, only inclines her head in a gesture of polite acknowledgment. There’s no room here for rebellion, no space for protest, and she knows it. Her role is simply to prepare you, to mold you into the image Tywin desires. To make you presentable, obedient, fit for his plans.

Finally, they finish, the servants stepping back to assess their work one last time. The young girl looks at you, her eyes shining with pride as if she’s just created a masterpiece. “You look beautiful, my lady,” she says softly, a note of genuine admiration in her voice.

You manage a tight smile. “Thank you.” The words feel hollow, an acknowledgment of her work rather than any reflection of your own thoughts. As you rise, smoothing the folds of the gown, you catch a final glimpse of yourself in the mirror—transformed, adorned in Lannister colors, the last threads of Targaryen fire hidden beneath layers of Tywin’s calculated opulence.

They lead you to the door, and the weight of what lies ahead settles over you like a shroud. Every braid, every glint of gold, a reminder that Tywin’s influence is woven into every part of this encounter. You steel yourself, breathing deeply as you prepare to face him, feeling each golden thread in your hair like the bars of a cage.

The servant by the door opens it, bowing low as she gestures for you to proceed. “My lady,” she murmurs, voice soft with a hint of reverence. You take one last glance at the mirror, the reflection now foreign, then step forward, leaving the chamber behind.

Tonight, you wear the colors of the lion, but the blood of the dragon remains, burning beneath the surface, silent yet unyielding. And as you make your way to the private dinner Tywin has orchestrated, you cling to that thought, holding onto it as your only reminder of who you truly are.

The dining hall Tywin has selected for tonight is secluded, almost intimate, a stark contrast to the grand banquet rooms of the Red Keep. The servants lead you to a table set for two, where Tywin sits waiting, his gaze fixed upon you the moment you enter. He surveys you with his usual piercing scrutiny, noting the golden thread woven through your hair, the crimson gown that drapes over your form—an image carefully crafted under his direction.

As you approach the table, your eyes catch the carefully arranged plates, and you feel a jolt of surprise. It’s a meal reminiscent of days long past—rich dishes that you once enjoyed as a princess, delicacies served at your family’s table in the Red Keep. Each plate a small piece of memory pulled from a life you’ve long since lost.

The first dish is braised quail in honeyed wine, garnished with sprigs of rosemary and roasted chestnuts. Next, a bowl of spiced chickpea stew with saffron and sweet currants, the same recipe your mother once had the cooks prepare for Rhaegar’s nameday feast. A platter of thick slices of duck, glazed with honey and dusted with ground cinnamon, sits at the center, flanked by roasted figs and fresh pomegranate seeds. And beside your plate, a familiar goblet of chilled summer wine, the floral scent wafting up as it mingles with the rest of the meal.

Tywin’s gaze follows your eyes as you take in each dish, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I trust the menu is to your liking?” he asks, voice cool and unruffled, though there’s a note of satisfaction beneath the surface.

You settle yourself across from him, lifting the goblet and taking a measured sip, the sweet wine coating your tongue in flavors that feel almost foreign after so long. “It seems your memory is as sharp as ever,” you reply, setting the goblet down. “Or perhaps I should say, disturbingly accurate.”

Tywin inclines his head, his gaze unyielding. “One does not achieve much in this world by forgetting details… especially not ones that are so important.”

Your lips curl into a faint, sardonic smile. “Important,” you echo, glancing down at the spread before you. “Yes, I suppose there’s value in knowing how to replicate the past.”

A ghost of amusement crosses his face, and he leans back slightly, watching you with those steady, calculating eyes. “I thought it fitting to make you comfortable, Y/N. You are, after all, accustomed to a certain… standard.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead selecting a piece of quail, savoring the tender, honeyed meat. The taste is perfect, achingly familiar, yet tinged with bitterness. “Comfortable,” you repeat, the word tasting strange in your mouth. “And yet, the golden thread in my hair, the crimson gown… it seems comfort isn’t the only thing you had in mind.”

Tywin’s smirk grows, his gaze unwavering. “You always had a sharp tongue. I appreciate honesty, even if it borders on impertinence.”

You place your fork down, fixing him with a steady gaze. “I’m not here to amuse you, Lord Tywin. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

For a moment, he merely watches you, a faint glimmer of amusement lingering in his eyes. “I didn’t bring you here to pretend, Y/N,” he replies, his voice laced with that unyielding authority he wears like armor. “I brought you here because you are a valuable asset. Because, regardless of your feelings on the matter, our union will strengthen both our positions.”

You scoff softly, not bothering to hide the disdain curling in your voice. “A union?” you echo, your tone sharp. “Forgive me if I find it difficult to see myself as anything but a tool in your grand design. What I think, what I want, seems irrelevant to you.”

Tywin raises an eyebrow, clearly unruffled by your bluntness. “What you think does matter, more than you may realize. I respect intelligence, even if it comes with… resistance.” He lifts his own goblet, regarding you over the rim. “But you would be wise to remember that, in this world, power is the only true form of freedom. I’m offering you that power.”

You feel a bitter laugh rising in your throat, barely holding it back. “Power,” you repeat, your voice laced with irony. “The illusion of control, perhaps. Yet you know as well as I that this marriage would bind me to you, to your family’s name and interests. I would simply be another piece on your board.”

A flicker of something passes across his face—amusement, irritation, it’s hard to tell. “You are correct in that it binds you,” he replies smoothly. “But you are wrong to think that it would leave you powerless. The position of Lady Lannister, bound to both the lion and dragon, is one of influence. You would be free to wield it, to shape it as you see fit.”

You take another sip of wine, letting the silence stretch between you, refusing to yield to his steady, piercing gaze. “So, in your mind, this is generosity?” you ask finally, the skepticism clear in your voice. “A benevolent act, done out of kindness?”

“Kindness?” Tywin repeats, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No, Y/N. This has nothing to do with kindness. It has everything to do with legacy—yours, mine, ours. Together, we can reshape the foundations of this realm. I thought you, of all people, would understand the value of that.”

Your jaw tightens, and you set down your goblet, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. “And do you think I’m so eager to cast aside the name I was born to? To let it be consumed by yours, to be dressed in red and gold and paraded as your prize?”

Tywin’s gaze sharpens, but his expression remains composed, almost amused. “You think yourself diminished by the name Lannister?” he asks, his voice quiet yet cutting. “You are mistaken. Names change. Blood, however, does not. You would do well to remember that.”

The statement hangs in the air, a reminder of the power struggle woven into every word between you. For a moment, you study him, this man who seems both captivated by your resistance and determined to conquer it. His amusement, his tolerance of your sharp words—it is almost as if he relishes the challenge you present.

“Perhaps you find my bluntness inconvenient,” you say, choosing each word carefully, your voice cool. “But make no mistake, Lord Tywin: I am not some empty vessel to be filled with your ambitions. I am a Targaryen, and that will not change, no matter how tightly you try to bind me.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that somehow both soothes and chills you. “Good,” he says, surprising you. “I would not want a weak-willed bride. It’s your fire that interests me, Y/N. You may resent this arrangement, but I know that you, too, have ambition.”

You hesitate, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t expected. He’s not wrong, and he knows it. You’ve spent your life as a toy in others’ games, yet a part of you longs for something more. Tywin sees it, and he knows how to wield that knowledge.

“If you think flattery will convince me,” you say, voice softer now but still guarded, “you’ll find it a difficult task.”

He merely lifts his goblet again, taking a slow sip before responding. “Flattery?” he echoes, an eyebrow arching. “I don’t waste time with it. I’m simply offering you a choice—join me willingly, and wield the influence you deserve. Or resist and remain a tool of others’ ambitions, a relic of a fallen dynasty.”

His words settle over you like a weight, cold and unrelenting. This is Tywin’s game—a careful blend of power and persuasion, of promises and threats. And though you’d rather cast aside the gown, the golden thread in your hair, the Lannister colors binding you like chains, you know that this is the hand you’ve been dealt.

For tonight, you’ll play along, if only to see what more Tywin Lannister will reveal. You lift your goblet, the bitterness easing just slightly, and meet his gaze across the table, the sharpness in your eyes matching his own.

“To legacy, then,” you say, voice cool, raising your glass in a half-hearted toast. Tywin’s smile deepens, as if sensing the smallest flicker of surrender.

“To legacy,” he replies, his voice as steady and unyielding as the stone walls of Harrenhal, sealing your uneasy alliance with the clink of crystal and the promise of a future neither of you fully controls.

Arya slipped down the dimly lit corridor, her footsteps silent as a shadow. She’d left the kitchens moments ago, her heart pounding with the thrill of sneaking away from her tasks and Tywin’s ever-watchful gaze. She moved carefully, glancing over her shoulder to be sure she wasn’t followed. Finally, she ducked through a small doorway that led her toward the lower halls, where she hoped to find Hot Pie and Gendry.

After winding her way through the damp stone corridors, Arya spotted them near the flickering light of a sconce, their backs pressed against the wall as they whispered together. She crept up, tapping Hot Pie on the shoulder, causing him to jump.

“Ary! Thought you’d gotten caught,” he hissed, relaxing once he realized it was her.

Arya grinned, her grey eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and determination. “Not yet,” she whispered back, casting a glance down the hall. “I’ve got a knack for not getting caught.”

Gendry chuckled softly, crossing his arms. “And where’ve you been? Thought Tywin had you running about all day.”

Arya nodded, her expression sobering. “I’ve been doing what he wants, yeah. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Hot Pie shuffled his feet, glancing nervously between Arya and Gendry. “Ary,” he began, voice low, “is it true? That he’s got a… you know, a Targaryen locked up here?”

Arya’s expression softened at the mention, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face. She’d been careful not to speak too much about it, knowing the danger it might bring. But these were her friends, her brothers in everything but blood. She could trust them.

“Yes, it’s true,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “Y/N… she’s like a sister to me.” Her voice grew stronger, her gaze fierce. “And we’re going to help her escape.”

Hot Pie’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by her resolve. “But… but she’s a Targaryen,” he stammered. “Aren’t they… dangerous?”

Arya’s gaze turned steely, and she crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. “She’s not dangerous, Hot Pie. She’s family. More than most, anyway.” She looked away, her thoughts drifting back to the days they spent together in Winterfell—the shared laughter, the stolen moments of peace in a world that always seemed to be on the verge of war. “If anyone deserves freedom, it’s her.”

Gendry glanced between them, his brow furrowing as he took in her words. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he said, voice quiet but understanding. “You want us to help her escape, along with ourselves?”

Arya nodded, her jaw set with determination. “She doesn’t belong here, locked up under Tywin’s watch. Once we get out, we’re taking her with us.”

Hot Pie shuffled his feet nervously, casting a wary glance down the hall as if expecting Tywin himself to appear out of the shadows. “But… how? Tywin keeps a close eye on everything. Even if we try, there’s no guarantee she’ll get out in one piece.”

Arya looked him dead in the eye, her tone fierce and unyielding. “We’ll find a way. She deserves better than this. And if there’s even the smallest chance we can get her out, we’re taking it.”

Gendry nodded, giving Arya a supportive look. “I’m in,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “If she’s as important to you as you say, we’ll help her. But we’ll need a plan.”

A flicker of relief crossed Arya’s face, but her voice remained steady. “We’ll think of one. Just keep your eyes open, and stay close. The moment we see an opportunity, we’ll act.”

Hot Pie sighed, shifting uncomfortably but nodding all the same. “Alright, Ary. If you say so.”

She gave them both a small, grateful smile, feeling the weight of her resolve settle more firmly on her shoulders. She knew the risk they were taking, the danger they faced. But for Y/N, for her sister-in-heart, it was worth it.

As they huddled closer, discussing possible ways to slip past the guards and navigate the castle’s many corridors, Arya’s eyes caught a familiar figure in the distance. The shadows played tricks in the dim light, but she recognized the silhouette of Jaqen H’ghar, his silent, calculating gaze lingering on her for just a moment before he turned and disappeared around a corner.

She felt a shiver run down her spine. Jaqen was mysterious, unpredictable—a man of many faces and secrets. And while he’d saved her life once, she wasn’t sure what he’d make of this plan. With a last, wary glance, she turned back to her friends, ignoring the figure as best she could.

“Alright,” she said in a hushed voice, returning her focus to Hot Pie and Gendry. “We keep to the shadows, stay out of sight, and don’t get caught. And when the time comes, we get her out of here. No matter what.”

With nods from her friends, Arya felt a surge of determination. She didn’t know how, or even when, they would make their move. But one thing was certain—they wouldn’t leave Harrenhal without Y/N.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf #house of the dragon #got x reader #got x you #got x y/n #got tywin #tywin x reader #tywin lannister #tywin x you #tywin x y/n #house lannister #house targaryen #legacy

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thecharacterchronicler · 5 months ago

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Heirloom (Part 3) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: Weeks after your arranged wedding, you and Ominis have a few things to confess to each other…

Word count: 3’925

Warnings: arranged marriage, panic attack, (unwanted) pregnancy and explicit smut.

(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Masterlist ))

The living room was plunged in darkness, the old clock ticking on top of the chimney, where a slightly outdated portrait of the Gaunts hung, each member coldly keeping an eye on the manor. You walked in, nervously playing with your hands as you approached the green velvet sofa facing the fireplace, finding Ominis lying down on it, his blond hair in a mess gainst his pillow and his tie losened.

You felt bad for waking him at such a late hour of the night but you had spent the past few hours after dining together hoping he would join you in his bedroom but it seemed tonight - like every other night - he had preferred the sofa instead of sharing a bed with you. Of course, you wanted to respect his boundaries and his privacy. You knew that Ominis had married you out of the goodness of his heart, because he was your friend and wanted to save you from a far more tragic fate, not because he felt anything more than friendship towards you and, although you had engaged in marital duties twice since your wedding night, his stubbornness to sleep in the living room made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t planning on it happening again…

“Ominis.” You called, softly, as you gently brushed a strand of pale blond hair away from his forehead.

You didn’t expect him to jump, startled by the intrusion despite your gentleness. He immediately sat up, his pale eyes shooting open in panic.

“It’s me.” You told him, to reassure him and it seemed to worked, his body immediately relaxing as he recognized your voice.

“What’s the matter ? Is everything alright ?” He asked you, suddenly worried.

“Yes… Or maybe not, actually.” You replied, hesitantly. You looked over your shoulder to the portrait of his family, watching you with cold stares and haughty faces. “Can we talk… In private ?”

“Of course.” He nodded, getting up from the couch to follow you out of the living room. You went upstairs, down the dark corridor that led to your bedroom - his bedroom - out of habit, it was the only place in the manor where you truly felt safe, no portraits or house elves to spy on you.

He closed the door after himself and you began to nervously pace around the room, unsure of what to say. You had tried to talk to him all day long with no avail, not that he didn’t listen, you always had his full attention whenever you opened your mouth to speak. It just that you were terrified of his reaction and the effect it might have on your marriage.

“It’s terrible, Ominis.” You warned him, still walking around the room as he stood still by the door, his head following the sound of your footsteps on the creaking floor. “I’m so sorry, you can’t imagine how bad I feel, I never meant for this to happen.”

“Now you’re scaring me, darling.” He said, worry in his tone and etched on his face. “What is going on ?”

“I don’t want to hurt or upset you, I really am so sorry…” you continued, heart racing and chest heaving in panic.

“I could never be mad at you.” He stated, as if the very idea of it didn’t make any sense to him. “Whatever it is, you can trust me, I can hear it…”

“Oh no, Ominis, you’re going to be mad. Furious even. And you’ll hate me.” You assured him, as tears began rolling down your cheeks. You gasped as you felt his hand on your wrist, gripping you tightly to stop your frenetic pacing of the room. He pulled you closer, forcing you to look at him, which made it even worse. How were you supposed to tell him such a tragic news when you were certain to see the disappointment and anger on his face in reaction ? Your best friend had been nothing but kind to you and you had betrayed him, how could he forgive you ? And with such a wound in your still fragile marriage, how could he ever love you afterwards ?

Because that was the worse of it all, the idea that he’d never love you as much as you loved him. He was a loyal friend who had sacrificed his future for your sake, agreed to be married to you for the rest of his life so that you wouldn’t have to be with his brother and you had had the audacity to believe that, with time, his feelings for you might evolve into something more than friendship, especially when he had agreed to be intimate with you, not once but twice… But the doubt always subsided; did he do this only because he was a good friend who couldn’t refuse you anything you demanded ?

That question had been haunting you for days, keeping you awake on most nights as you tortured yourself with the guilt you felt for forcing him in an arranged marriage and for wanting him to love you back so desperately.

But it didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Not with the unforgivable betrayal you were about to confess to him.

“I can assure you, darling, there’s nothing you could do that could make me hate you… So please, tell me what it is all about.”

You looked at his handsome face, his angel-like features and the worry he felt, so visible in his absent stare. You knew that you were going to ruin everything between the two of you and it broke your heart. The pain you felt in your chest felt like the stabbing of a burning knife, keeping you from breathing properly. You gasped for air but the bedroom suddenly seemed devoid of any, the sobs stuck in your throat making it even harder to fill your lungs. You started panting desperately, your body trembling. You were going to die, you were sure of that.

Ominis reached out to hold your other hand in his and guided you to his bed, making you sit down on the satin sheet as he took place next to you, his grip tightening on your hand. You felt his fingers gently brushing off some of the tears streaming down your face but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You held his hand and gripped his arm with the other, digging your nails into his skin as you suffocated in panic. You felt lightheaded, as if you were about to faint and at this point, it almost felt like a welcomed reprieve…

Suddenly, you felt your new husband’s lips press on yours, interrupting the flow of your desperate gasps for air. It was a gentle kiss that only lasted a few seconds and, as soon as he moved away, you took a deep inhale, your lungs finally filling up with the air they so miserably craved.

“My apologies, I didn’t know what else to do to help.” Ominis said, as he wiped some tears away from your cheeks once more, before brushing your hair out of your face. You couldn’t deny that it had worked wonders, your breathing slowing down and your heart beating more steadily. “Now please, tell me what happened.”

“I have reasons to believe that…” you started, taking a break to inhale once more, nervously staring back at his pale eyes. “I might be pregnant.”

“Ah.” was all that he said. You searched his face for a reaction, some kind of emotion but he stayed impassive, blankly looking in your direction.

More tears escaped your eyes. It was the end of your friendship. The end of your marriage. The end of everything.

“I’m so sorry, Ominis. I really didn’t mean for it to happen, I know you wanted your bloodline to end with you.” You told him, your words interrupted by sobs. “I never meant to betray your trust like this…”

The sound of your cries seemed to knock him out of his shock, both of his hands reaching out to cup your face.

“Please, calm down. I cannot bear to hear you cry.” He said, his voice soft and warm despite the terrible news you had just shared with him. His touch was impossibly gentle as he placed another soft kiss on your lips, probably just to ensure you wouldn’t suffocate in panic once again. “It’s not your fault, I’m the one who’s been imprudent, I should have been more careful, it’s just that you are so… Perfect. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Then don’t hate me, please.”

“Never.” He stated, without hesitation. He silenced one of your sobs with another kiss, pulling you into a hug. You closed your eyes in his embrace, feeling relived that you had told him the secret you had been keeping for days, although you still couldn’t imagine him being anything other than angry because of it. Yet, he showed no sign of being upset - or feeling anything, really - focused on kissing you each time a cry got stuck in your throat.

As time went by, you ended up lying down on the bed, your head resting on the soft pillow and your body relaxing into the mattress, an exhaustion you had never felt before taking over you. Ominis stayed close, lying next to you with his arm resting over your body, some sloppy kisses shared as his hand slowly started wandering under your nightgown.

You weren’t sure how it had came to this, how could he still want to touch you knowing that you may be growing his heir in your belly ? How could he be so calm about it all when he had made it clear that it was the one thing he didn’t want to happen ? However, one thing you knew was that you had no intention of stopping him. Especially if the bold way his fingers were exploring your body was meant as a last moment of weakness before never speaking to you again.

He squeezed your breast between his fingers, probably noticing as well as you did how much more tender your flesh was compared to usual. You gasped as he pinched your unusually sensitive nipple, which had turned a few shades darker in the last few days. He apologized for his roughness by placing a wet kiss on your lips, before moving his mouth to the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with burning kisses.

You closed your arms around his shoulders, holding him close for a moment before moving to switch positions, straddling his legs as his head fell back on the pillow. His chest was heaving rapidly when you popped the buttons of his shirt open one by one, revealing the pale skin of his chest. You gently caressed your way down to his trousers, working on the buttons down there while his hands slowly caressed their way up your legs and thighs.

Once you were able to free his erection out of his pants, it stood gloriously straight up and hard in front of you, the soft pink tip glistening with his arousal. You gave it a few stroke with your hand, watching as he closed his eyes and opened his mouth in reaction, breathing heavily. You couldn’t think of anything more gratifying than seeing him like this, enjoying himself, because of you.

You tugged your nightgown up as you moved and gently lowered yourself on him, feeling his erection easily sliding inside you, stretching out your entrance and pushing past your walls until you could be fully seated on top of him.

“We shouldn’t.” Ominis breathed, his face clearly saying the opposite.

“I’m not sure it matters anymore.” You replied, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach. He groaned as his tip hit the deepest part of you and you left out a quiet whimper, loving how he filled you up so perfectly.

His hands flew to your hips, his fingers digging in your flesh as he guided you off him in an upwards motion. You believed he wanted you to get off of him for a moment, until he pulled you back down onto him with strength, causing his cock to slam inside you.

You pushed on your knees to repeat the same motion over and over again, following the pace he set, feeling an intense pleasure already building inside you.

“Goodness, I love you.” He breathed, eyes shut, head in a daze.

“What ?” You stopped yourself, sitting down on him, wanting to make sure you had heard him correctly before allowing your heart to burst with joy.

His eyes shot open, his expression mortified. You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, and you could almost see the gears in his mind turning trying to come up with a proper explanation.

“I guess there’s no point keeping it a secret, we’re supposed to spend a lifetime together after all.” He admitted, carefully chosing his words as his cheeks turned pink. “So you might as well know that I love you. I’ve been intrigued by you from the moment we met, I’m not sure when my feelings turned into… something more, but I do know that my love for you is unconditional and irrevocable.”

It was your turn to be frozen in a shocked daze after hearing his confession, unsure of what to say or how to react. Earlier, you were convinced that he was going to detest you for the rest of your lives so such a turn in the situation was confusing and unexpected to say the least.

“Of course I do not expect anything from you, I’ve always known my feelings were unrequited and it is fine by me if it remains that way, I just thought that you ought to know…”

“Unrequited ?” You repeated, astonished. “Ominis, I’ve had feelings for you for years !”

“You… Really ?”

“Absolutely ! But you’ve always been so cold and distant even as a friend, I certainly didn’t think you felt anything for me.”

“Well, it seems we’ve been quite foolish to not talk about this sooner then.” He stated, still so serious while you left out a happy giggle. You leaned forward to kiss him, feeling his arms coming around you to hold you close.

You slowly started moving again, foreheads pressed against each other, his warm breath caressing your face with each of the low grunts of pleasure that came out of his mouth in reaction to the way you were swaying your hips on top of him. It felt even better this way, the short circular movements allowing you to feel his entire length and full girth inside you, exquisitely moving back and forth.

You weren’t that far from climaxing when he thrusted his hips upwards under you, adding more pressure to your tantalizing moves, making you cry out as the bubble of pleasure at your core imploded and your whole body was submerged with bliss. You heard him groan as he came too, fully releasing himself inside you as the consequences no longer mattered, his fingers still digging into your hips so strongly that it almost felt painful.

You collapsed on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he attempted to recover from the intensity of his pleasure. You were already partly asleep in his arms, feeling blissfully safe and comfortable, when he turned over to get his satisfied cock out of you, before pulling the covers over your body and planting a final soft kiss on your lips.

You woke up as the morning rays of sunshine illuminated the bedroom, your head still swimming in bliss despite the soreness of your body. You turned to your side, to avoid facing the bright sunlight and to snuggle up against Ominis but, as you outstretched your hand to the other side of the bed, you didn’t find anyone else between the sheets.

A noise almost startled you, forcing your eyes open. You rubbed them a few times, struggling to sit up on the mattress as you found a shirtless Ominis, filling a heavy looking suitcase with various items from his bedroom. It took you a moment to realize what he was up to, but when you did, your heart sank in your chest.

“Are you leaving ?” You asked him, your voice breaking the silence of the bedroom, making him freeze in place. He threw a few more books inside the trunk before turning around to face in your direction.

“We are leaving.” He replied, approaching the bed.

A wave of relief hit you, happy that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you. A man who didn’t want to have kids would have fled during the night without looking back but Ominis was a gentleman, and he wasn’t just any man, he was your husband.

“And where are we going ?” You asked, as he sat down on the bed and you leaned to kiss his cheek, making him smile.

“Wherever you want to go, darling, as long as it is somewhere our families won’t find us.”

“So you’re planning on running away ?” You knew he had thought about it many times before, leaving without looking back so that he could be free from his family and no longer carry the burden of being a Gaunt. You often felt guilty about it, imagining that he would have done it after graduation if it weren’t for you and your arranged marriage to a Gaunt, leaving him no choice but to stay to make sure you wouldn’t be a victim of his family’s famous cruelty…

“It’s about time I do.” He stated, holding your hand tightly in his. “With all my savings and the few precious items I own, we should be able to live comfortably, far away from here.”

“And what about… The baby ?” You inquired, almost in a whisper. You hadn’t talked about it since you had dropped the news and you felt somewhat worried of his reaction if you reminded him about it…

“The baby won’t lack anything, neither will you. We’ll settle down somewhere comfortable and my family will never know of his existence. Our children will be safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, joy bursting out of you in a stream of happy tears. The plan was perfect, there was nothing you wanted more than to disappear from society, be free from your families’ expectations and live a simple life, with the man you loved… And the babies you may be blessed with.

“I packed what I thought useful but I’ll leave it to your care to chose the outfits you’d like to take along.” He explained, standing up from the bed to get back to his task because he knew he was so easily distracted whenever he started touching and kissing you. “I have a few items to fetch from my father’s office. Then, we can leave whenever you are ready.”

You agreed and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead before leaving the bedroom. You stretched and got up, freshening up and getting dressed before opening the wardrobe’s doors wide and surveying each of your pieces of clothing one by one.

Once you were done choosing the most practical and appropriate outfits you owned, you giddily left the bedroom to go downstairs where you believed Ominis would be waiting for you. But instead of finding him excitedly waiting for you in the hallway, with all your and his belongings packed up, the first silhouette you saw wasn’t his and your heart jumped. You hurried downstairs to stand by Ominis’ side, straightening up although Marvolo’s cold and twisted gaze always made you feel in danger.

“I see you and your wife are about to leave on a little vacation, a honeymoon perhaps ?” The oldest Gaunt stated, his eyes on the luggage waiting by the door. “I’m sure mother and father would love to know where you are going.”

“Don’t worry about it, they know.” Ominis lied, his tone cold, as his arm protectively came around your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Do they ? Mother seemed pretty determined to keep you both locked up in here until your wife produced an heir… Unless ?” His deranged eyes dropped to your belly which you couldn’t help but cover with your hand in reaction, as if you could protect your unborn child from his abominable uncle that way.

“This family won’t get an heir from me. Not now and not ever.” Your husband declared, but you clearly noticed he wasn’t as determined as he used to be about it.

“It’s fine by me.” Marvolo shrugged, his gaze still on you but clearly focused on something else now. “All that matters to me is that you give me back what belongs to me.”

“Such as ?”

“Such as the precious ring on your wife’s finger.”

“Father gave me this heirloom as a present for the wedding and I gave it to her.”

“It should have been mine, I’m the eldest son.”

“Father knew that you wouldn’t take care of it properly, that’s why he gave it to me. What do you want that ring for, anyway ? Pay up a gambling debt ?”

You noticed how tensed Ominis’ body was against you, his hand ready to grab his wand to defend himself against his brother. You saw a sadistic smile appear on Marvolo’s lips and sure enough, he pointed his wand at both of you, Ominis pulling his out as soon as he heard the familiar noise.

“I won’t let you steal it from my wife.” Ominis said, determined.

“And I won’t let you leave with it so it seems there might be an issue here.” Marvolo retorted.

“It’s alright, you can have it !” You interrupted , pulling the ring off. “But you have to let us go and not tell your parents about it.”

Marvolo seemed amused by your request, maybe because you had gave in more easily than he had expected but you didn’t want to see them duel each other over a ring, as pretty and special as it looked.

“Deal.”

Ominis sighed as you took a few prudent steps towards his brother, placing the golden ring and its black gem in the palm of his hand. He didn’t thank you but smiled at you in a way that caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. He slowly closed his fingers over the ring and walked away, the tension still subsiding in the atmosphere.

“Let’s hurry up.” Ominis finally said, grabbing the suitcases and your hand and guiding you out of the imposing Gaunt Manor. He looked worried, your escape suddenly more rushed than planned.

“Do you not trust Marvolo to keep his word ?” You asked him, trying to follow his large footsteps in direction of the iron gates of the propriety.

“I don’t trust Marvolo for anything.”

The morning was cold and quiet as you followed your husband into the unknown, hopeful to make it far away from his family and yours before anyone was alerted of your unexpected travel plans. You felt nervous about it, but at least there was one thing you knew for sure; as long as you were with him, then you had everything you could possibly need.

“Ominis ?” You called, softly, making his head turn in your direction to show that you had his full attention. “I love you.”

A smile illuminated his face despite his apparent apprehension and his zeal to get as far away from his family’s manor as possible, his face momentarily softened as he squeezed your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the mark that his heirloom had left on your finger.

“And I love you more.”

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

Previously in the series;

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moonpascaltoo · 2 months ago

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ominis gaunt

MASTERLIST • HOGWARTS LEGACY • 11/29/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

@shadowtriovibes ✰ something wretched about this, something so precious about this mc is absolutely taken with ominis' mouth in every sense of the word

@spaceyaceface ✰ you were the first Ominis Gaunt has never known affection. He has never known how it felt to love---to be loved. She came and changed all of it. ✰ only in dreams She spent her days in love with him, and her nights wishing they were together. But she knew it would never be---Ominis Gaunt had sworn off love for the sake of ending his family's legacy. She knew she wouldn't be an exception to that.

@hufflepuffwitchhh ✰ he’s so in love ominis is in love with you. now, who's gonna tell him?

@thenerdykneazle ✰ her touch Ominis had never been fond of being touched. Or, at least, he had few positive experiences with it. That changed with the arrival of the new fifth-year. ✰ amorous tension Poppy is quite sure her best friend has feelings for our favourite heir of Slytherin. MC is quite sure she doesn't, despite abundant evidence to the contrary. When Ominis asks MC to help him study for an upcoming potions exam, she jumps at the chance. ✰ the scriptorium After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

@metal-mouse ✰ because you’re mine You are most surprised to see Ominis Gaunt return to you with a broken nose and a black eye from a fight. He's being awfully cryptic about who he got into a fight with, until you've finished healing him and he confesses why he's so upset.

@darknights04 ✰ sensing you part 2 You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

@forbidden-amortentia ✰ a jeweled promise In 7th year, to formalize Ominis & reader courting/dating, he gifts them a necklace. While putting it on, it can only be unlocked with parseltongue, so a bit possessive but mostly sweet demonstration of his affection & devotion to reader. Possibly includes some tender touches and kisses in the neck/ear/jaw area.

@princessconsuela120 ✰ hold me close and hold me fast You fall asleep on Ominis' shoulder during class.

@chickenlizard13 ✰ all you’ve done part 2 part 3

@sissyisawitch ✰ actions speak louder than words Even though the two of you are not on good terms after a certain event, you and Ominis decide to go and explore Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium in order to help Sebastian. But you know what they say, danger helps to reconcile… but also to bring out the truth.

@dittanyinbloom ✰ note taking part 2 part 3 part 4

@cranetreegang ✰ the polyjuice ploy

@sebastianswallows ✰ temporary blindness

@awkwardauthorwrites ✰ in the middle part 2 After a few months of knowing the reader the boys suddenly realise one day they are falling in love with the reader and start to become a bit bitter towards each other and very jealous if another guy gives her attention.

@galaxiasgreen ✰ moonlight In search of distraction from Ranrok's rebellion, you dance with Ominis in the Undercroft. ✰ a cruelty vivid and sweet part 2 part 3 Never before had he really met a Muggle-born. He had no idea how naïve they were. How unprepared. Certainly, his family said they, and Muggles in general, were inferior, stupid, barely worthy to be at Hogwarts. Barely worth existing. But you weren't any of those things.

@thecharacterchronicler ✰ like an evening sky You ask Ominis to be your date for the ball and he feels sorry that he can’t see how beautiful you are... So you help him get a much more detailed and intimate idea of what you look like.

@weasleys-wizard-writes ✰ return You and Ominis are finally reunited on the Hogwarts express after several weeks apart. The only problem is, you're running late, and Gaunts are not known for their patience...

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt fic recs #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #ominis gaunt fluff #ominis gaunt angst #ominis gaunt oneshot

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btsbabe7 · 7 months ago

Text

Perfect Storm

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Warnings!: 18+, unprotected sex

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ominis,” you breathe in relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose we could go wherever we please.”

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

“Perhaps we could go to The Undercroft?”

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

“The Undercroft,” you hum in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve known nothing else.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you thinking about?”

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

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Prove it.”

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

“It’s alright,” you whisper.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

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

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

“I know, Omi.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you done this before?”

He shakes his head.

“Have you?”

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

“Only once,” you reply shakily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Omi, your cock feels amazing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Omi… I’m going t— Nngh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s plaguing your mind, Ominis?”

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

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

“What about them?”

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

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

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

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

You pat his chest gingerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

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

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

⚡︎ Golden - Sebastian Sallow x reader

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

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

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

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

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

May 2024

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