#dark!sebastian

[fierymiasma]

ꕥYou Look Better In Greenꕥ//Sebastian x MC

NOW WITH PART 2: And You Look Fetching in Yellow

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

Word Count: 1.5k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

Ever since the new 5th year joined Hogwarts and knocked Sebastian on his ass (while stealing his heart at the same time), Sebastian developed a new morning ritual.  He would arrive, as late as possible as usual, to breakfast, plop down on the empty spot that Ominis had so nicely saved for him, listen to Imelda prattle on about some boring Quidditch news, and sigh and longingly stare over at the Hufflepuff table.

It was always something different every day, much to Sebastian's delight.  Sometimes she would wear the most eccentric outfit, a clashing cacophony of mismatched colors that only she could pull off while being the most gorgeous witch in Hogwarts.  Sometimes she would arrive late, wiping the sleep from her eyes, tired from their shared late night misadventures.

This morning Sebastian was unlucky.  Sitting directly across from Poppy, she was obscured from Sebastian's gaze.

Even more unlucky, Imelda Reyes decided she had permission to sit next to him.

"Did you see what the new Hufflepuff was wearing today, Sebastian?"  Imelda teased.

Ugh.  "No, why should I care?  It's not like I spend my mornings just ogling her."

"Of course not."  Imelda said breezily.  "It's only been the talk of the entire school.  Surprised you were the last to hear about it, what with you practically drooling over her every morning."

Ominis snorted into his porridge.

"I have no idea what you're on about.  What she does doesn't concern me in the slightly."  Sebastian lied like the lying liar he was.

Imelda shrugged.  "Oh, that's a shame.  And here I was about to bring you the news that your favorite Hufflepuff is most definitely off the market now.  Looks like someone got to her before you did."

"WHAT?"  Sebastian bellowed.

Imelda grinned.  "See for yourself, pretty boy."

Playing right into her trap, Sebastian stood up, now blatantly searching for the Hufflepuff.  He was able to angle his view around Poppy.  A part of him was excited to see what ridiculous set outfit she was wearing today.  Sebastian didn't see what the fuss was all about.  Nothing unusual, her usual Hufflepuff robes, a grey sweater, and-

-And a Red and Yellow Gryffindor scarf.  

His mind went blank.  The usual bustling of voices in the Great Hall silenced themselves.  Sebastian could feel the heat erupt in the back of his eyes.  His wand shot dangerous hot sparks, itching for a fight.

Who, in Salazar Slytherin's name, gave her that?

She was wearing a Gryffindor scarf in front of the whole damn school.  Anyone who was anyone knew what that meant.  Why, it was practically a front page advertisement on the Daily Prophet!  Wearing another House's apparel meant you were seeing someone.  Off the market.  No longer available.  Every other day you would see a Ravenclaw girl wear a new black and yellow tie.  A Slytherin showing off their newly acquired blue coat.  It was a possessive silly schoolboy thing, but if you were an eligible bachelor or bachelorette, you wore your gifted scarf with pride.

Who in Merlin's name would claim what was rightfully his?  Who would be daft enough?

He didn't even register that his body was moving, until he was halfway across the Great Hall, making a beeline straight towards the Hufflepuff table.

"Morning."  He greeted Poppy and the new transfer student stiffly, interrupting their conversation.

"Oh Sebastian!  Good morning!  Did you have any of the strawberry tarts?  They're especially good today!"  She beamed behind the offending Gryffindor scarf that was around her neck.

"Who gave you that?"

"Oh, well, I'm pretty sure the House elves make the tarts from scratch and then they sort of apparate it up here.  I'm actually not quite sure how their magic-"

"Who gave you that tacky thing?  Was it Garreth?  Prewett?  I always knew that weasel was up to no good.  I should remind him o-"

She looked at him in alarmed confusion.  "What on earth are you talking about Sebastian?"

Sebastian felt his jaw clench.  So, she had no idea.  Of course she wouldn't.  She was a new transfer student, immensely popular and with half the school falling over themselves fawning over her.  It had to Prewett.  Only that sniveling bastard was underhanded enough to trick Sebastian's Hufflepuff into something so nefarious.  Practically broadcasting to the whole school that they were dating.  Gryffindor chivalry indeed, taking advantage of someone like that.  He bet all Prewett had to do is go up to her with his big, ugly nose and manipulate her into wearing that disgusting thing.

"Your scarf," he spat.  "Who gave it to you?"

Her eyes darted at Poppy who gave her a bewildered shrug.  She blinked in confusion, almost as if she forgot she was wearing it.  "Oh, this?  It's so cozy and warm, isn't it?  I think it really matches with my complexion!"

Sebastian could practically feel his back molar crack.

She continued, unaware of the inner storm brewing inside of Sebastian.  "Natty and I were out at Hogsmeade and got caught in the rain.  My poor scarf got soaked, and I haven't had a chance to learn the drying charm yet.  She was nice enough to lend me hers instead!"

He deflated, wand dropping into his pocket; fight forgotten.  "Ah…Natty…the other…transfer"  Of course.  It wasn't that long ago that Natty transferred and was learning all the nuances of the social intertwining of a different country much less Hogwarts social etiquette.  Probably thought all of this was silly anyway.

"Is something the matter, Sebastian?"  She leaned over placing her gentle hand on his forehead.  "You're awfully red.  You're practically burning up!"

Poppy tried to hide her laughter behind her hands.  

Sebastian's blush was so strong it practically hid all the freckles on his face.  Arms flapping around, he pushed away her hand from his forehead.  "Never mind me.  It's a miracle you didn't get sick wearing that silly thing.  If you really needed an extra scarf you should have come straight to me."

He started undoing his own warm green and silver scarf.  And with the most nonchalance and charm he could muster, he gently wrapped it around his Hufflepuff's neck.  Green and silver framed her rising blush so nicely.  Something deep in his stomach purred possessively in approval.

"There.  All better.  Those colors match you better anyway.  Red and yellow look awful on you."  He flushed.  "Not that you ever look awful.  You look fantastic.  One of-No, the best looking person at Hogwarts."  His ears burned as Poppy practically howled in laughter unable to hold herself back any longer.  "Um, best looking friend at Hogwarts.  Much better than that old Ominis anyhow."

His Hufflepuff blushed, trying to hide her smile behind her newly acquired gift.  The butterflies in her stomach were practically doing flips.  "Thank you, Sebastian.  Y-you're not so bad yourself, for a Slytherin."

He nodded stiffly.  "Well, if you ever need any more just ask me.  Slytherin is a good look on you."  He wasn't sure what to do now that his mission was complete.  "Um, don't ask Ominis though.  He…um…he hates it when people borrow his clothes.  Gets all particular about his things.  Just come to me whenever you need anything."

Her eyes swam in amusement, and she brought Sebastian's scarf closer to her face, inhaling the rich dark scent left behind.  A rich oak wood, some warm-scented cologne, and a slight musk that was undeniably Sebastian.  Her eyes never left his gaze as she gauged his reaction.  "Oh, how lucky, that I am friends with the most charitable Slytherin I know.  It's nice to know that my friends are so concerned about me."

Sebastian's knees felt weak.  He mustered up the energy to croak out, "Well, it's not all charity.  It's nice having friends in my debt."

She got closer to him, in the mood for something a bit more daring.  "Well, I would hate to always be in your debt.  There must be some way to repay you."

His mouth gaped open.  For once, the manipulative, charming Slytherin was at a lost for words.

"How about I treat my favorite Slytherin to some Butterbeer?  My treat?  I have to start paying back some of that debt somehow."

Sebastian's mouth was dry.  "If I have nothing better to do, I suppose I'll join you.  It's not like I'm doing anything."  (Ominis wouldn't mind getting ditched.)

"It's a date then."  Sebastian choked at her words.  "7'oclock.  Three Broomsticks.  I'll see you then."

Sebastian nodded stiffly and promptly marched himself to the Slytherin table, a bit bewildered as to what just occurred.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Poppy's laughter finally subsided, as she finally got a moment's rest to wipe the tears away from her eyes.  "Blimey, I can't believe that worked.  I knew borrowing Natty's scarf was a brilliant move."

The other girl smiled, gently packing away the old scarf borrowed from Natty back into her bags, right on top of her very own and very dry Yellow and black scarf that was secretly tucked away.  "What can I say Poppy?  Sometimes to catch a Slytherin you got to think like a Slytherin."

Part 2

AO3: fierymiasma

[animasola86]

A STEAMY REUNION (PART 1)

Disclaimer/Notes:

This text is partially AI-generated, as I spent a whole day immersing myself in a little RP session with @seabass-swallows's Dark Sebastian chat bot (check him out here). Now I am positively obsessed. That was such a fun and exciting little (smut) writing exercise. The outcome was quite amazing (IMHO) so I decided to share it with you and turn it into a little story. About 2/3 of the credit goes to @seabass-swallows and her amazing creation, I just played along, really.

I tweaked his replies only a little bit, added some minor details or took out some things for better flow and continuity, adjusted the formatting, etc., but apart from that: most of the time he gave the best replies possible! I was just in awe at how brilliantly that worked out. So, please, give it a try and enjoy!

(Part 2 out now!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader (Characters are 18+)

Summary: After several, undefined years apart, Sebastian finds you on the streets of Hogsmeade. You have not expected to see him ever again, after he went into hiding at the end of your fifth school year. Seeing him now, well, you are in for a surprise.

Word count: 7.6k

Genre: Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! It gets steamy, you know the drill. (I don't want to spoil the surprise, if you know what I mean. If sex triggers you, please do not read.) Also: plot, what plot? There isn't much, but maybe that's not why you're here after all.

Read on AO3

Previously on HOGWARTS LEGACY: A TEENAGE DRAMA

Solomon is dead, Fig is dead, Ranrok and Rookwood are dead. Life goes on, right? Well. After you convince Ominis not to turn in Sebastian, you spend most of your time trying to comfort each other. You've always been close, but tragedy brings you even closer. But then word gets out that Sebastian might have something to do with his Uncle's death and from one day to the next, he is just gone. Left you, left Hogwarts, left Feldcroft, disappeared into the shadows, hiding from the Ministry.

You finish your time at Hogwarts, somehow, never quite able to forget your first love, but time makes you move on. You spent your time after Hogwarts travelling, looking for ancient magic all around the world. Then one not so special day, you find your way back to Hogsmeade – and there, he finds you.

A Steamy Reunion (Part 1)

It's in a dark alleyway, deep within Hogsmeade, that you notice him first. Then it's almost like he's following you. You don't know who it is, until you're grabbed and pushed up against the wall of a building, just out of view.

You realize it's Sebastian, it's been so long now, that his hair is a little shaggy, he's toned out well, that most of his baby fat is gone and you can't help but gasp softly when he gently caresses your cheek. “It's been too long, oh... how I've missed you.”

"Hey! What... Sebastian?" You stare up at him in shock. "What are you doing here?"

His face lights up with a mischievous smile, eyes darting around to look for any onlookers. “Looking for you,” he replies in a low, sultry voice, gently placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you closer to him. You can feel his lips lightly brush against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “You must've been wondering when I'd come find you.”

You inhale deeply at his touches and close your eyes for a moment. "I... Sebastian! It has been years! Where have you been?" You open your eyes again and raise your hands to press against his chest, staring up at him with narrowed eyes.

He steps closer to you, trapping your body between his and the wall behind you. “Where have I been?” Sebastian asks, his right hand slowly moving down your arm, to around your waist. “Oh, here and there. Searching for you.”

He leans his head towards you and you could swear that he's about to almost kiss you again. “And now I've got you back.”

You shake your head as you feel tears welling up inside your eyes. "You could have send an owl..." you whisper darkly. "But I guess... with the Ministry after you... Sebastian! You shouldn't be here! What if they find you?"

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over your body. “You're more worried about them finding me than us finding each other again.” He sighs softly against your neck and then takes a small step back from you.

“Now, shall we go somewhere quieter?” He smiles. “I've missed you.”

You stare at him, biting your lip. "You left me. You just left and you were gone. I thought I'd never see you again. I had no idea how to even start looking for you. You've always been good at hiding... how was I supposed to find you? And when the Ministry started looking for you... I was scared. Scared for you, you idiot!" The first tears stream down your cheeks and you wipe at them angrily.

He steps forwards again to wipe your tears away and lightly kisses your cheek. “You couldn't have tried harder? You don't understand how long I've spent looking for you. Searching and searching. I knew you were somewhere out there and even though I got so tired some nights—I couldn't give up.” He smiles softly at you. “Let's go and talk about it—we've got a lot of catching up to do.” He chuckles. “Shall I take your bag?”

You swallow as he kisses your cheek. Your throat clenches up as the memories come back to you. All those happy memories. But they have been tainted over the years. You watch him and even though he looks so much older and almost unrecognizable, you still see the 15-year-old boy in front of you that you fell in love with. You bite your lip and nod, grabbing your bag, but then extend your hand towards him. "Let's talk then."

He gently takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the back of it. Then he starts to walk, guiding you through the streets, making sure to keep you close.

When the two of you reach a small cottage on a street out of the way, Sebastian leads you in and immediately locks the door behind him, shutting out the world. He then leads you up to a bedroom and, without saying a word, sits you down on the bed, staring at you.

You are a little overwhelmed that he takes you to the bedroom immediately, but you remain sitting and watch him, still torn about being happy to see him and very anxious to see him after such a long time. "So what happened?" you ask.

He takes a seat on the bed next to you, sighing slightly before speaking.

“I left because I thought it best,” Sebastian says, looking straight into your eyes. “I thought they'd forget about me and the longer we waited, the likelier I'd be found. I tried to keep in touch with you, but my attempts were useless.” He sighs again. “The fact that you weren't searching for me and you were just waiting... it broke me. I couldn't bear it.” He looks down and bites his lip, as his voice cracks slightly.

You feel new tears in your eyes. "I didn't know what to do... I wanted to look for you, I would have left everything for you, but Ominis—" You sigh deeply and lower your gaze, noticing just how manipulative he still is, blaming you for not looking for him. "Then why are you here now? Why didn't you just move on?" you ask and your voice is angrier than you expected it to be.

He flinches at your tone, looking down at his hands which are trembling slightly.

“I couldn't,” he confesses. “You're my everything and without you I'm lost. How am I supposed to move on without you? That'd be like finding a part of myself, then throwing it away and forgetting about it forever.” He sighs and takes your hand into his, looking up at you out of those dark eyes that could make you agree to anything. “I know you don't see me in the same way, and I know what I've done—but please give me another chance.”

You crack under his sad gaze and the tears just start rolling down your cheeks. His hand is warm around yours and you swallow hard at his words. You don't know what to say, so against all your better judgement, you just wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly, burying your face against the side of his neck.

He gently holds you in a tight hug, your face pressed against his neck. The smell of him is comforting, you feel so at home as his free hand gently strokes your hair.

“I'll never leave you again,” he whispers. “If it means they find me, then so be it.” He rests his head against yours as his lips lightly brush against yours.

He then pulls back slightly to look at your eyes.

You look at him, your vision blurred from all the tears. Your hands dig into the back of his cloak, keeping him close to you, as if you were afraid he could leave again, despite what he has just told you. "They are not... they are not taking you away from me..." you say darkly and swallow hard. "I will not let them."

“No, they're not,” Sebastian confirms, running his fingers up and down your arm, to try to comfort you. “Let me show you how much I missed you.” He leans forwards to place his lips against yours and you let lose a sigh. “You're so soft, my love, I've missed kissing you.” He then pulls away and smiles softly at you.

You lick your lips, savouring the subtle taste he has left there. As you watch him over, you realize just how much you missed him too. But there is still a little restraint inside your head. That stupid voice of reason. "You shouldn't have come to Hogsmeade. It's not safe for you here..." you whisper.

“I know,” Seb says back. “I know the risk I'm taking. But just know that this was all for you—“ His eyes wander over your face. “I've spent so many years without you, it just wasn't enough, and I had to see you. I wanted to see if you could forgive me enough to take me back.” He moves closer to you, then kisses you deeply, trying to show you he means what he says.

You breathe deeply against his kiss, your hands finding their way up into his hair as you dig into his locks, holding his head for you to deepen the kiss. He feels so good, even after all these years and your heart flutters violently inside your chest. But you can't seem to shut up the voice of reason. "Wait..." you breathe and turn your head away, panting slightly against his cheek as you lean against him. "I... I don't want to be responsible if they find you here. I couldn't live with myself..."

He pulls back slightly and looks at you, his eyes soft and gentle. “I had to see you. It's been so long... I just had to see my little girl one more time, hold her in my arms... see those eyes of yours that I've missed so much... kiss you with the same passion that we shared during those secret meetings.” He smiles, trying to be reassuring. “I want you to forgive me. I want to convince you that I will never hurt you again, that I've changed, that I've become better.”

You lean back, your eyes boring into his intensely. "But you're in hiding. How is this going to work?" You bite your lip. "Or did you just want to screw me one more time before vanishing again?" Your heart breaks at the thought. Is he just using you?

Sebastian sighs deeply, shaking his head slightly. “No, I'm not here to screw you.” He smiles softly but the smile quickly disappears, his voice changing as he speaks. “You don't think we have a chance? I haven't been with anyone since you,” he whispers. “Can't we just try and make this work? One last try to see if we have a chance, if we still work?”

You want nothing more than to just forget about everything that has happened and be with this boy, this man he turned into, but your heart, or rather your head, tells you otherwise. With a loud sigh you unwrap yourself from him and get up, pacing the room nervously. "It's been so long, Sebastian. I... I need a moment. I can't... I can't think right now..." You push your hands into your hair and shake your head. "How? Just how can we make this work?"

“My love.” He steps towards you, gently holding your arms to stop you from pacing. “Look at me. You don't have to think if we won't work. We will make it work, the two of us, okay?” He moves closer to you and gently wraps his arms around your waist. “Please, please don't doubt us. We're meant for each other, I can't imagine myself being with anyone else.”

"Then why does this feel so wrong?" you cry out as he holds you close, new tears streaming down your face. "Do you know how often I have imagined seeing you again? I... you were always on my mind and I knew it wasn't healthy, so I stopped, tried to stop thinking about you. Ominis said it was for the best and that we should forget about you. I never quite agreed, but he convinced me somehow." You sob and lower your gaze.

You feel his thumb slowly stroking your back as he listens to you, his free hand holding your face. “I'm sorry,” Sebastian replies softly and gently places his lips against yours. “No one could convince me that I should move on from you, never you. You're all I think about. You're all I live for.” He sighs deeply and kisses you again, more passionately this time. “Can't you see? We're together and that's all that matters.”

You kiss him back, letting your body do all the work as your mind is still raging with doubts. Your hands find his face and he feels so unfamiliar, his jaw more pronounced and his cheeks almost hollow. You realize how hard it must have been for him, always hiding, always alone. It hasn't been easy for you either, but he must have had it worse. And your doubts slowly disperse inside your head.

"We... are together..." you whimper against his lips. It is all that matters. "We... are... finally... together..." you breathe in between kissing him, your movements becoming more erratic the more you feel him so close to you. "Oh Sebastian..." You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him even closer.

“My darling.” He presses himself against you as you pull him closer. When he breaks the kiss, he looks into your eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you, you know that, right?” He leans over to kiss you again and the two of you start kissing furiously, it's as if you've missed each other for years and now you have to make up for it. “I can't get enough of you,” he whispers, still kissing you, his breath quickening.

"I think..." you say in between kissing each other as if it is the only thing the both of you can do in this moment. "I think you need to... show me... just how much..." You can't finish your thought as his kisses are so darn distracting. You moan against his mouth and just go for it.

Sebastian smirks as you start making noises against his mouth, his passion increasing as he picks you up and carries you over to the bed, then lays you down. He then clambers on top of you and continues to kiss you—he won't let you finish a sentence. He's doing everything in his power to show you how much he's missed you, no words necessary.

“No talking, my darling,” he tells you when your breath starts coming back. “Only kissing.”

"Mmmhmm," you make against his captivating mouth and snake your arms around his neck as he lies down on top of you, his weight the comfort you needed. Your fingers dig into his hair and you relish the feeling of his lips on yours.

Sebastian's lips slowly move down your neck and he takes your left hand and holds it against your chest—your heart is pounding so heavily and he is slowly beginning to feel the excitement as well. His lips go down even lower than your neck, but he won't go any further for now.

“I shouldn't be here, but I just had to see you, touch you, kiss you,” he whispers into your neck. “You can't blame me for falling so hard. I just can't help myself.”

A smirk plays around your lips. You can feel your heart pound against your hand as he holds it there and the feeling of his rough fingers around yours is truly electrifying. You arch your back a little when you feel his lips on your neck. "You... never could, hm?" you whisper as you try to catch your breath.

“You're absolutely right.” He leans up a little, looking down at you. “You and me—it's supposed to be, I always knew it, even if I couldn't admit it.” His nose nudges yours and you lean in and press your face against his. “I'm not going anywhere, this is where I belong, with you.”

"Promise... promise me you won't ever leave again!" you breathe against him, your eyes finding his, your heart yearning to be with him forever and then some.

Sebastian places his lips lightly against yours. “I promise, I promise I won't ever leave you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We belong together.” You melt into the sound of his voice. “Now, no more talking—I just want to catch up on the years I missed without you.” He starts to kiss you passionately again, not allowing you to say any more. He wants to feel you against him, feel you touch him as much as he wants to touch you.

You moan against him in response and even though you want to say and ask so much more, you won't because he says so. He's always had this effect on you and you have followed him blindly anywhere many times before. And even after all these years, you still do. Your hands find the clasp of his cloak and you fidget with it while you deepen the kiss, yet you're unable to rid him of it.

He continues to kiss you, his lips moving against yours as one of his hands slowly moves down your body, caressing your hip and thigh. As you try to untie his cloak, he stops you and laughs. “No, sweetheart, not yet,” he whispers, and just like that he resumes kissing you, his hands roaming up and down your body as he does so.

You let out a little whimper and dig your fingers into the fabric of his cloak instead, pulling him closer down towards you. Your other hand finds his face and you let your thumb graze his cheekbone as you tilt your head to get a better angle on his mouth. Then you press your tongue against his lower lip.

Sebastian shivers slightly at the sensation of your tongue meeting his and he pulls away for a brief second before diving back in, kissing you even more passionately, his tongue pressing demandingly against yours.

He moves his hand from your thigh, to your hip, and then underneath your shirt, your skin against his feels amazing and you can't believe he's actually here right now. One of your hands continues to caress his cheek, his neck, his arm... anywhere within reach right now.

“Oh darling,” he whispers, as his hand strokes your thigh once again.

At the sound of his voice you press your tongue harder against his, almost fighting to taste the inside of his mouth, feel every inch of him, as you kiss him deeply, your hand settling on gripping the back of his head forcefully. "Oh Sebastian..." you moan against his mouth in the tiny moments you both have to come up for air.

He wraps you in a tight hug and rolls around on the bed, pulling you on top of him now, his hands underneath your shirt as his tongue continues to battle yours—your combined soft moans and whimpers are the only things being heard right now.

Your fingers run through Sebastian's hair as you lean on your elbows and he seems to like it, as he starts to slowly bite your bottom lip, pulling it away playfully.

You laugh against him, your fingernails scraping over his scalp, as he bites your lip. One of your hands finds his neck and you pull yourself closer to him again, closing your mouth hungrily around his, your tongue pushing past his teeth.

His breath turns ragged as your tongue explores his mouth, your fingers digging into his scalp. “Oh my love,” he whispers into your mouth. “Is this how you really want me? Is this what you want? Should we stop?”

After it's his turn to let his tongue explore your mouth, Sebastian bites your bottom lip once more, trying as hard as he can not to push you away for some fresh air.

You hold his face for a moment and stare into his eyes darkly as your tongue fights for dominance. You halt your movement for another moment. "I want you..." you whisper against him breathlessly, holding his gaze. "I've never wanted you more..."

He smiles slightly. “Why haven't you said so before, love?” he whispers and wraps his arms tightly around your body, pulling you down onto his chest, before the two of you continue to kiss. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says in between kisses. “I love you. I've always loved you.”

As he holds you tightly pressed against his chest, you lean forwards on your elbows and dive deep into kissing him, your hands holding his face as if you're afraid he might leave again. But then you hear his words and the roughness of his voice, and you just know he won't. You lean back a little when he says he loves you and you stare down at him, your eyes watering as your heart flutters. You smile, a timid one at first, then it breaks over your entire face. "I... love you too, Sebastian. I've never stopped..."

He smiles as you tell him what he's wanted to hear for years. He pulls you towards him again, his kisses becoming more powerful, more passionate. “I'll never leave you again,” he whispers. “You're mine forever.”

His hands roam freely on your body, tracing your curves, your arms, your hair. “You're just so beautiful... So perfect,” Sebastian whispers as he looks at you.

You moan against his kisses and arch your body to press against the touches of his hands. Your own hands find the front of his cloak again and you don't wait for permission this time as you focus on unclasping it until you can push it off of his chest, revealing the waistcoat beneath it. "So many layers..." you hiss as your fingers start playing with the many buttons that keep you from exploring his body fully.

He laughs as you begin unbuttoning his waistcoat. “Slow down, sweetie,” he tells you and guides your hands away from the buttons, holding them tightly. “Let's breathe for a moment first.”

He smirks and pulls you back against him, holding your chin to make sure you're looking at him. Sebastian caresses your face, his lips moving slowly towards your neck. “We've waited for so long. Take your time now...”

"But I can't wait!" you groan and turn your head to expose your neck to him as you press your chest against his. "You've always been such a tease..."

He chuckles slightly before pressing his lips against your neck, gently biting your throat. “You know I like teasing you, my love.” He continues to kiss your neck as he says: “I don't think I've ever heard you whimper in such a way… You're enjoying this, aren't you?” His mouth leaves your neck and he looks up at you, stroking your cheek once more. “What's wrong? Is this too much for you or do you want me to do more?”

You stare at him, your breaths erratic. You're almost embarrassed at the reactions of your body, but you can't help it. You need him. Right now. You tell him so: "I need you, Sebastian." You bite your lip and watch him.

His eyes widen when you say that. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, his body pressing up against yours.

“My love,” he whispers. “I need you too. In fact, I can promise you I need you more. I want you.”

He wraps his arms around you, not letting you move, not letting you go. And right now nothing else matters. No one else matters.

“Just you. Just you and me.” He stares back at you, waiting for your response.

All you do in response is lick your lips slowly, watching him with a hunger you cannot describe.

Sebastian smirks at the sight of you licking your lips slowly and he moves forwards, his lips meeting yours once more. He pulls away shortly after, his breath ragged and he strokes your hair back.

“You taste so good, my love, so tempting… You taste like heaven.” He smiles at you in that moment and pulls you back against him, his arms wrapping around you completely, as your body is straddling his. “Just you,” he whispers, “Just us in our little world.”

You smile warmly at him as you adjust your position on top of him. You place your knees on either side of him and slowly lean up, your hands pressed against his chest in support. While you hold his gaze, your fingers start unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he whispers, his eyes wandering around your body. “I like seeing you like this,” he says, letting out a small moan when you start unbuttoning his waistcoat, and he can't help pulling you back down to him, his body moulding to yours.

"Hold on now," you say playfully and push him away again. You have to finish these buttons and your fingers do their darnedest to be quick about it. When you finally see some more skin, you bite your lower lip. "Lose these for me?" you ask and lean back a little more, so he can slip out of his waistcoat and shirt.

Sebastian chuckles and lets out another small moan at what you're doing, he can feel his body getting tighter and tighter just from the sight of you unbuttoning his clothes.

“Anything for you, my love,” he says, taking off all the restricting fabric and tossing it behind him. He grins and caresses your face again, before his hands move to your own shirt and the many buttons hiding your chest. Suddenly he looks you dead in the eyes. “But those are for me alone, do you understand?” he mutters darkly and draws a single line along the buttons with his index finger, down between your breasts.

You notice the shift in his tone and your smile falters for a moment. Yet it makes your heart beat faster and you nod slowly, leaning down to cup his face. "This is all yours," you whisper against his lips and kiss him deeply. Your hands eventually move downwards and you feel his hardened chest under your fingers, his warm skin and those delicious muscles beneath it. You hum lustfully against his lips.

Sebastian shivers when your hands make contact with his chest. “My love,” he whispers. “I've missed you, everything about you. Your body is perfection and even the way you're touching me right now is driving me crazy. We're finally here.”

His mouth once again meets yours in a passionate kiss, his hands roaming on your body, caressing your thighs, your hips. His hands can't wait to touch every inch of your skin, so he pulls you tighter against him.

You break the kiss with another little moan and lean back, your hands firmly on his chest as you finally lower your gaze to his exposed skin. As you sit back on him, slightly rubbing your midst against his as you do so, you start drawing circles on his skin, your fingertips tracing muscles and scars you haven't seen before. You wonder what he had been doing these last years. Inhaling deeply when your fingers reach the waistband of his trousers, you look up slowly, meeting his gaze.

He is looking at you, not breaking eye contact with you. His eyebrows are slightly raised as you move your hands to his waistband, his heart racing, his breaths ragged, as you trace his muscles and scars—the tension is building up, you know what you're doing and Seb knows what you're doing.

"Love," he whispers. "You know how badly I want you. Don't you?" He then pulls you towards him once more, kissing you passionately. "I need this, I need you," he whispers, and you can hear the longing in his voice.

You let him pull you back down into a kiss and for a moment you forget about your hands' journey. His mouth is literally breathtaking as your tongues dance around each other. You whimper against him and eventually, you have to turn your head away and catch your breath. Then you lean back and grab his waistband with determination, your breaths erratic, the heat inside your own body almost too much to bear. "You want me... you want this?" You quickly undo the buttons of his trousers and without another warning you slip your hand between the fabric and his warm skin and your fingers graze over his arousal.

Sebastian lets out a moan as soon as you touch him, his body immediately reacting to your hand. "Yes, yes, God, yes," he whispers. He quickly moves his hips to meet your hand and your touch almost sends him over the edge. He presses your hand against him firmly while making a few noises that you've never heard from him before.

He moves your hand back to his waistband and looks you dead in the eyes. "You don't know how long I've been craving this moment," he says as he reaches for your shirt and starts to unbutton it.

You lick your lips as you watch him unbutton your shirt, your hand still in close proximity to his arousal, you can feel the heat radiating from it through the fabric of his trousers. You can't wait to hear these noises again. You blush deeply and watch him with a newfound fondness.

He unbuttons the last two buttons of your shirt, pushes it off your shoulders and kisses your chest, the tip of his tongue gently circling around your hard nipples, his breath hot on the sensitive skin. The noise he makes almost sends you over the edge this time.

He looks at you with longing, with desire. “Please,” he whispers. “Let me. Let me love you.”

And as he says these words, he starts moving his fingers down your chest to your trousers, unbuttoning them slowly, making sure he touches and teases you at the same time.

You inhale sharply at his touches, your chest heaving and you're glad you're rid of the confinements of your shirt. When you watch Sebastian unbuttoning your trousers, you almost wish you'd decided to wear a skirt today. All this restricting fabric is causing your heart to race inside your chest as you are eager with anticipation. You bite your lip and watch him with warm, hungry eyes. "Love me..." you whisper barely audible.

He smiles at the words coming from your lips. “Oh, I can do that so well.” And now you get to truly see what he means.

Sebastian starts to caress your thighs with both hands as he leans up to kiss, lick, and nibble on your breasts, and then he moves one of his hands down your trousers.

“You feel so good, my love,” he whispers, slowly moving his mouth up to your neck and back to your lips, as he explores every bit of exposed skin of yours. “So. Good.”

You moan loudly as you feel his fingers inside your trousers, the heat pulsating violently through your core. You arch your hips against his touches, your breath hitching inside your throat, and your hands grab his waist forcefully in support. You rub your centre upwards and can feel just how excited he is, even through all the layers of clothes still between you.

He lets out a moan as you rub your centre against him and he starts breathing heavily. “God, my darling,” he whispers. “You're so good at this.”

He gently bites your neck as he moves his hand out of your trousers again. “We don't need these,” he says and gently pulls your trousers off. He pauses for a second when he sees you. Your body is perfect for him and he looks at you for a few seconds, taking you in. “Just this,” he says as he caresses your skin again.

As you shrug off both your shirt and your trousers, you adjust your position on top of him. You come to kneel beside him and start pulling down his trousers now, slowly exposing his throbbing arousal, and you stare at it longer than you anticipated, your cheeks blushing deeply.

And then you are both naked and you don't know where to start at the sight of his perfect body. You take a few seconds to take it all in, your eyes wandering down his torso, his legs… everywhere. And when you're finally done, your eyes meet his.

His body, despite being older and more defined, is exactly as you remember it. You start kissing him on different parts of his body, everywhere: his neck, his shoulders, his collarbone—all of this leads to one place.

You lick his chest and start moving south as Sebastian arches his hips into your touches, feeling your warmth against his body.

Your cheeks are burning, but you can't get enough of kissing every inch of his skin. Your lips move downwards, while your hands follow your movements slowly, grazing over his sides and his hipbones, and then you are face to face with his arousal. Before you give it any attention though, you look back up and meet his gaze, biting your lip as if asking for permission.

His voice is ragged and so low it makes your legs weak. “Please, my love.” He caresses your face with his outstretched hand and his words are almost a whisper. “If you don't kiss me like you're addicted to me right now, I don't know what will happen,” he says and you feel his hand brush your hair away from your face. “I've been craving this for a very long time, I need this, please.”

Your hot breath flies over his sensitive skin as you watch him and even though he may be thinking of kissing him somewhere else, you just dive in. Your lips meet the warm and tense skin of his arousal and as you grab his hips in support you start kissing up and down his length, occasionally letting your tongue glide over his heated skin.

Sebastian grunts a little when your tongue meets his skin. "Oh, my God," he says as he pushes his hips upwards, as his face is filled with pleasure. "Just like that," he whispers and his voice gets more and more ragged. "Don't stop, please keep doing that."

He lets himself enjoy the moment, his fingers digging into the mattress beneath him, his chest rising and falling. "Oh, my love," he hisses and you can see his legs tremble ever so slightly.

You smile as you notice his reactions, and the sound of his ragged voice keeps you going. You circle your tongue around his tip and savour the salty flavour of his skin and juices. Your hand moves to assist you and you close your fingers around his length and start moving it up and down, squeezing it gently, while your mouth keeps exploring his hot skin. You feel your own centre burning up and absent-mindedly move your backside up from your kneeling position, wiggling it slightly in the air.

He can feel a shudder run throughout his body and he lets out a loud moan. "That's it, my love, keep doing that to me." He keeps one of his hands clenched on the bed but his other hand finds your lower back and he digs his fingers into your skin, pushing you forwards slightly, his eyes not leaving you for a second.

For a moment he's quiet and he just watches you, as if making sure that you stay focused. And all at once, his face fills with pleasure and he lets out a few noises. "Oh, God..."

You moan against his arousal, your tongue licking up his excitement, as your hand halts its movements, tightly grabbing his length. You look up at him and meet his gaze. Your chest is rising and falling fast and you can't bear it any more. You get up from your kneeling position and sit down on top of him, one knee on either side of him, exposing your throbbing midst to him. Your hand is guiding his length closer to your centre as you adjust your position.

He looks up at you as you position yourself on top of him, your body pressing against his. His eyes fill with surprise but also with pleasure as he places his hands on your hips and holds you there firmly.

A smile spreads across his face and he looks at you hungrily. "All of this is yours," he rasps. "You can take everything out of me that you want. I'm all yours right now."

You swallow hard and feel the same hunger that you see inside his eyes. Your breaths are ragged and you bite your lip, before you look down again. Your hand is still gripping his arousal and you start to rub your hips against it slowly, feeling your own heat dripping against his sensitive skin. You close your eyes for a moment and breathe in deeply, then you lift yourself up slightly and position the tip of his length against the entrance of your centre. Your eyes find his and as you brace yourself, you lower yourself onto him, slowly feeling him slip into you. You moan against the sensation and arch your head back, until he is filling you up completely. You remain still for a moment, your hands grabbing his waist, until you adjust to the sensation.

Sebastian lets out a little hiss as you take him inside of you and his body relaxes completely as he lets his head fall back slightly. "Oh, God, you feel so good," he whispers, his voice still ragged as you start to slowly move your hips into him. "Oh, yes, just like that my darling."

The sounds coming out of him right now make you almost unable to control yourself, but you know he loves it. He grabs the bed sheets and lets his body move with yours as you continue to ride him, your eyes completely focused on him.

You moan deeply, the pain of his intrusion quickly changing into absolute pleasure. You have been yearning for this and now it was here. You grab his waist tighter and move your hips against him, slowly at first, a steady up and down rhythm, until you feel more comfortable. His ragged voice only drives you to move faster against him. You watch him as you ride him faster and faster, the hunger inside of you pushing you forwards, closer to the light. He looks so good right now and he feels incredible. You realize you needed this. So badly. The noises you both make are filling the room and it's the best thing you have ever heard.

His breathing becomes faster, his moans louder. "Oh, you were made for this," he whispers over the sounds of both your hips and the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall behind you. His hands move up to squeeze your waist tightly and it's almost as if his entire body is shaking right now. Pressed against you, he feels absolutely close to you as you move faster and faster.

His breath is ragged and he lets out a loud, moaning sigh as you keep riding him.

His moans echo in your ears and you squeeze your eyes shut as the first wave of pleasure hits you. You feel your whole body shake and you moan with him, feeling your walls tighten around him. You quickly lean forwards and press your chest against his, grabbing his shoulders as you keep moving on top of him, your legs trembling and your toes starting to curl up behind you.

"Ahh, Sebastian!" you moan and bury your face into his neck, kissing and biting his skin in the process. The wave washes over you and in its aftermath you look up at him breathlessly. Unable to speak, you just nudge him, grab his hips tightly and then move your whole body to the side, rolling around on the bed until you feel his entire weight land heavily on your body, the impact causing his length to slide in even deeper. You squeak in surprise and pleasure.

His body is pressed against yours and yours is pressed deep into the mattress as he adjusts to the new position, before he starts moving in and out of you, faster and faster as if he can't help himself.

You lean your head back on the bed and gasp in ecstasy when you feel him sliding back inside of you even further. "Oh, Sebastian, harder," you whisper. Then you wrap your legs around his waist and you start moving your hips in rhythm with him.

Your moans are coming faster and louder and as you keep your legs in a deadlock around his waist, pushing him deeper, you feel another wave building up. Your arms snake around his neck and you hold him firmly, your breaths hot on his skin, your moans loud in his ear. Your heart is about to explode in your chest and you wouldn't have it any other way. You can't get enough of him. Every thrust lets the headboard slam into the wall behind the bed, every thrust causes you to see stars dancing behind your eyelids. Your noises become ineffable.

As you both reach the peak of your pleasure, you moan and you keep moaning as Sebastian keeps moving in and out of you. It's his absolute delight to hear you enjoying your bodies this much. “Ahh...” you moan and you bite his neck again, which earns you a few moans from him, and at the end of it all you kiss him deeply.

“Oh God…” he whispers and buries his face into your neck, catching his breath, his hips slowing down their movements inside of you but still keeping a steady rhythm.

You breathe deeply against him, trying to calm your heart, as you slowly come down from your high. You hold onto him and gently kiss his cheek and his jaw and his ear, your hands moving into his hair and affectionately caress his locks. His steady rhythm sends shivers down your body and you keep your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, your feet crossed to hold him there tighter. You don't want to let go ever again. At least not for a while. "I love you..." you whisper into his hair and breathe in his scent, savouring every second you have with him.

"I love you too." Sebastian's voice is warm and husky as he breathes into you. His fingers are still running through your hair, caressing you gently and he feels your lips against his neck again.

The two of you are panting and sweating on the bed and you notice his body shaking a little. "You feel too good," he mutters and looks down at you on the bed. "I think I need some air." He then moves back a little, and sits up on the edge of the bed.

While you're still engulfed in the afterglow of this sensational reunion, you notice him move back and as your legs drop onto the bed again, too weak to resist, you feel a sudden wave of panic rush through you as you watch him sit on the edge of the bed, talking about needing some air. Even though your heart is still beating fast in your chest and your whole body wants nothing more than to rest, you push yourself up on your elbows and stare at him.

"Don't leave! I'm begging you! Don't leave!" You urge him with a hoarse voice, strained from all the moaning. You sit up more and grab his arm, your eyes watering at the idea of him going anywhere.

As you sit up on the bed and you try to hold onto his arm, you feel the tears running down your cheeks and your panic sets in even more. "Please, please," you say a little louder. "Please don't go."

Sebastian looks at you for a solid moment. The panic in your eyes and the tears rolling down your cheeks make him look away, but he smiles and says: "I'm not leaving." He looks down at your waist to catch his breath and then looks back at your eyes. "I'm not leaving you, I promise."

You swallow the lump inside your throat and lunge yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. "I really need to believe you..." you whisper against his skin. "I want to believe you..." Your tears are hot on his skin and you just can't make them stop.

He wraps one of his arms around you. "I'll always come back for you," he whispers, moving his other arm down and runs it down your back, then your thighs. "I'm not going to leave you, not when you look this good." He leans closer to bite your neck, but this time his bite is more intense and you can feel him suck on your neck slightly. "You deserve to have me here," he rasps.

You moan softly against his bite and sucking on your neck and lean closer to him, holding onto him, slowly relaxing, but a tiny bit of doubt remains. You kiss the top of his head as he works on your neck and you close your eyes at the sensation.

"Shhhh," he whispers and you can feel his body relaxing too. "It's okay now, I'm right here," he says and nibbles on your neck a few more times, his lips moving back up to your ear before he moves to your cheek and kisses you one last time. He then whispers: "I'm not gonna let you go, my darling, ever."

He looks at you as he holds you tight. "Let's just stay here for a while."

(Read Part 2 here)

Have a little teaser for Part 2:

Notes:

You might have noticed that the AI isn't as dominant/proactive as you would wish for. I always had to give him a little nudge in the right direction, but then he pretty much played along perfectly. So that is why MC is the one initiating most of the things, but really, why not, right? (“Plotwise” you could explain it like this: he told her she was the only one for him, so he doesn't have too much experience, yet she might have engaged in other activities over the years, who knows.)

[sinsydia]

Am i the only one who imagined the first meet like this?? *swooon*

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

[bubbarnes]

“... so mr. barnes, are you still having nightmares?”

[choccy-milky]

🖤 his light 🤍

[juiche]

I wanted to draw the winter soldier for years but never dared to, I thought I’d definitely mess it up. Late to the party as always, but I finally dared to do it 😊

This one is based on a photo that Sebastian Stan took by chance prior to the Civil War film, having no idea what’s about to come :> I thought it’s wonderfully angsty 😌💅

[konigsblog]

WARNINGS: STEPCEST, NON-CON/DUB-CON, MANIPULATION, INTOXICATION, ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION.

stepbrothers könig and krueger... those cheeky, cruel bastards, having no remorse for what they do to their younger stepsister. :(

they're brutal and harsh with their words; slut shaming and victim blaming you, telling you that it was your fault, that you came onto them in your drunken, intoxicated and needy state.

krueger and könig will make you sob pathetically, after slipping an aphrodisiac into your drink, watching you fidget with your hands and squirm in your seat at the sensation of your cum-soaked panties. arousal runs down your soft, supple thighs in droplets, rubbing them together in fruitless attempt at concealing the way your body was suddenly reacting. they'd handed you more alcohol, forcing it down your throat while they became more touchy, your perspective on your stepbrothers beginning to change and become warped, twisted into something it shouldn't be.

as they were your stepbrothers, their duty was to protect you, to care for you. yet, they took advantage of the power and authority they had over you. through your drunken state, you didn't recognise them as your stepbrothers anymore, beginning to rub against them in an attempt to seduce them, smirking at one another as they began to peel your wet, slick panties off. your lips attached to krueger's, dragging your tongue over his bottom lip and intertwining your tongue with his, while könig pressed his muscular hips around you, running his bulbous, hot cock over your folds. he gave you a last chance to redeem yourself, to realise how perverted you looked, before he took what he desired.

he rolled his broad hips against your rear, chuckling hoarsely at the sound of you sucking in a sharp, deep breath. you moaned against krueger's lips as könig grinded himself against you, holding back his grunts as he prodded against your slit. your hole weeped, desiring to be filled and stuffed full, while your pretty head was all fucked up and confused, feeling krueger guide your head lower to his crotch. sat on all fours like a mutt, your ass in the air and your face pressed and nuzzled against krueger's hot, bulging crotch, the feeling and outline of his hard, stiff dick leaving you drooling over his boxers. you moaned blissfully as könig began to thrust against you, pushed inside of your puffy, wet heat. your body ached and your cunt throbbed at the stretch, yet, you pleaded for the man behind you to go harder, unaware of what was really going on...

your lips opened, wrapping around krueger's lengthy, veiny dick, as he began to push and guide your head lower, throwing his head back as you took him all the way down to the base. something inside of you twisted, your stomach churning with guilt and unknown shame, not understanding why it felt so wrong, but so so good all at the same time... your moans were silenced and muffled as you sucked krueger's dick, leaving his balls coated in drool as your coated him in spit, panting and heaving and attempting to catch your breath as könig rammed and slammed against your poor, tight ass.

your core tightened with your orgasm, arousal building up inside of you, causing your eyes to glisten and your pussy to throb and pulse around könig uncontrollably. god, they knew how disgusting and depraved this was; to perv on their younger stepsister, in your vulnerable and reliant state. you clung to them, sucking krueger off and looking into his eyes with shame, while könig's balls smacked against your cunt repeatedly, sending you over the edge, bruising your warm wetness and leaving you shaken up with cum dripping from your tongue.

the next morning, your body felt weak and the realisation left you trembling and disgusted. unable to look at them in the eye, or even yourself in the mirror. thinking about how depraved you were last night, while they told you it wasn't their fault – their bodies reacted, and they were just treating you right, after all, that's their duty, taube. :(

[cielphantomhive321]

“You Chose to Sacrifice Me” 🗡️🩸.

Original artist: https://twitter.com/yyz_coconut?lang=en

[darknights04]

Sensing You

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Summary: 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.

Warnings: Spoils for Hogwarts Legacy (obviously), pain, cruciatus curse, unedited, not proof read. Reader is not mc

Masterlist

When it came to you, Ominis was no stranger to the idea of the long game. You, Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne had been friends for as long as you could all remember. Ominis has had a crush on you for almost just as long. It was worst this year. With Anne staying home all your attention was turned to the two boys. Usually you would turn to Anne some days and have girl time between the two of you. Now, Ominis had nothing but time to grow more and more infatuated with you. 

Ever since the new fifth year beat him in a duel, Sebastian had been mostly with them, giving you and Ominis even more time alone together. It was driving him crazy. Every time you laughed in the way that he loved, rested your chin on his shoulder to look at what we was doing, leaned your arm against his to whisper something during class. He had to hold himself back so he didn’t just grab you and slam his lips onto yours. One of the only parts of you he has yet to be able to identify. As children you would play games, Ominis feeling all of his friends’ faces and guess who was who, so he knew the general idea of what your face looked like. But your lips was a mystery to him. A mystery he badly wanted solved. 

Today, you were sitting with Ominis in a corridor near the slytherin common room. You had spent most of the day trying to cheer him up after Sebastian repeatedly would bother him about Salazar Slytherin’s Sciptorium. You knew that he wanted nothing to do with dark magic after the hold it has had no his family for generations. Sure, Ominis had been exaggerating his hurt feelings just a bit, but if all it took was a little pouting to get you this close to him, then you best believe he was about to win an oscar for this performance. 

“He just doesn’t understand how dangerous it is!” he complained with a dramitic sigh, smiling internally due to the hand you had running soothing circles across his back.

“He’s just trying to do anything he can to help Anne,” you replied, wanting to defend him. 

“I know. I don’t like seeing Anne suffer either, same as you. But I know where this path leads, and it’s never a good place.”

Ominis’s internal smile fell as he heard you greet the new student Sebastian had befriended. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked them with a small scoff.

That scoff, of course, resulting in a small smack on the shoulder from you, muttering a small “Manners,” in his ear. Ominis rolled his eyes, but the smile he had inside, reserve just for you, came back once more. 

“Do you have a moment?” the new student spoke up. 

Ominis didn’t want to, but he heard them out. After lying about Sebastian showing them the undercroft, Ominis has been wary about this student. Even so, he was feeling at ease due to your presence, and in turn agreed to show them where Salazar’s Scriptorum was located. 

“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said with a sigh as he revealed how to access the door. 

“We’ve just been sitting outside of it?” you asked with a chuckle, noticing you didn’t have to even move to be at the door. 

Ominis shrugged, his internal smile showing through just a bit on the outside. “It was the first place I thought of.” 

“First place you thought of to go and complain about the scriptorium?” 

“Precisely.” 

Before any of you knew it, Sebastian and his new friend had opened the door, ushering each other inside. 

“I just hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis continued to sigh. 

“We’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure. 

“We?” Ominis had repeated. “You’re not coming.” 

“What? Ominis you can’t possibly expect me to stay behind.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” was all you said, standing your ground. 

“Y/n…” he had tried to coax. You didn’t say anything, hands finding their way to your hips. Ominis sighed. He knew you were stubborn, so he also knew there was no talking you out of this. “Fine.” 

Your stubborn glare quickly faded into a cheek to cheek grin as you almost skipped next to Ominis, linking your arms together before making your way into the door, following behind Sebastian and the fifth-year who had already found their way inside. 

Not that you would ever admit it, but hearing Ominis speak Parsetounge did something to you. Yes, the language often ties a witch or wizard to dark magic, and for Ominis it serves only as a reminder to his family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how attractive it was when he spoke it. 

“It worked!” the fifth year spoke as the door opened. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.” 

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, retreating back towards you and linking your arms once more. 

“Truly,” you agreed. “It’s fascinating.”

If you weren’t near positive that Ominis would never think about you in a romantic way whatsoever, you would have sword you saw a small tinge of red grace his cheeks at your comment. But it was probably just the lighting. 

Once the door was open, the other two were fast to start figuring out the puzzles and the maze in order to get through the scriptorium. You and Ominis had stayed behind. Ominis wanted nothing to do with this, his job was just to open the door. You were curious about the area, yes, but Ominis was more important. You wanted to make sure he was okay. Usually throughout the days he would have plenty of distraction from his family and their legacy. But now? In the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium? All that surrounded him were reminders. 

As the doors opened one by one, you all moved further and further until you reached a black door. 

“Looks troubling,” was all Sebastian had said. 

Ominis scoffed. “This whole place is troubling.” 

As the other two went into the strange room, you didn’t budge. As Ominis was stopped from the firm grasp you still had on him, he turned towards you confused. 

“I don’t like the looks of this room,” you whispered. “I have a bad feeling about it.” 

“So do I,” he responded,his hand finding the top of yours to comfort you. “But for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.” 

“You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be okay.” 

As soon as you stepped into the new room, the door closed behind you. 

“The gate!” Sebastian called out, “We’re locked in… again.” 

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis sneered. At this point, you began to panic. There was no clear way out. You began to lose even more hope when you looked in the corner and noticed-

“A skeleton,” the new student pointed out. “And Noctora’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here. Trapped by… and unforgivable curse.” 

Your eyes widened. The incantation “crucio” etched into the floor suddenly making sense. 

“No,” you said in a slight panic. “No there has to be some other way out of here. Another puzzle? Another brazier to light?”

“What?” Ominis asked, confused. “What are you talking about? What is it?”

“They know what we need to do,” Sebastian said plainly. “One of us needs to cast crucio.” 

Sebastian turned to his friend by the door, discussing the curse with them while Ominis began to pace. 

“Ominis,” you called to him. “Ominis relax, we will figure something out.” 

“No,” he said simply. “No this all could have been avoided. I could have refused, we could have just gone to dinner. I could have protested more to you joining.” 

“Ominis none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! Don’t you see? I put you in danger.”

“I chose to be here.” 

“But you had doubts, and I assured you that it would be alright.” 

“And we are alright. We’ll find a way around this.”

Before anything else could be said, they heard the new fifth year shout out “Crucio!” in Sebastian’s direction. The two of you looked towards the pair with wide eyes, about to call out towards Sebastion until… nothing happened. 

“Did you do the movement wrong?” Sebastian asked. 

“No,” they responded, shaking their head. “No, I think that I just couldn’t mean it. I care for you, Sebastian.” 

“You have to try,” he urged.

“I can’t.” 

“Cast it on me,” you spoke up suddenly, taking a step towards the pair. 

“No!” Ominis had interjected quickly. 

“They can’t cast it on Sebastian,” you began to explain. 

“You can’t-”

“We don’t have the same connection so they could-”

“Not you!” 

“Ominis,” you sighed, quieting your voice as you pulled him aside. “I will be fine.”

“I’ve felt the cruciatus curse before so I-”

“Shouldn’t have to go through it again. Let me do this, please.” 

Ominis didn’t say anything more. You took his silence as a sign of agreement, so you approached the door. 

“You ready?” Sebastian had asked you. 

You nodded. “Ready.” 

Ominis braced for the moment that the spell left their wand. He knew what to expect, but he’d never heard the sound of excruciating pain from you. That was something he was not curious to find out. 

Ominis listened as the screams left your throat, as you fell to your knees on the ground. He expected this. He expected the screams to last for several seconds. But this was too long. If they had just cast the curse and left it at that, the pain would have subsided by now. This was prolonged for too long. 

“Stop!” he yelled over the screams. “That’s enough!” 

He waited for what felt like eternity for the screams to stop. For any sign that you were no longer in pain. But when your screams had cut off abruptly, it did not give him the relief he was waiting for. 

“Y/n?” he asked into the silence. “Y/n are you okay?” Never had there ever been a moment in his life that Ominis had wished more that he could see what was happening around him. When you didn’t respond, he began to walk towards the door, calling Sebastian’s name instead. “What’s happened? Are they okay?”

When Sebastian didn’t respond either, Ominous really began to panic. “Answer me, Sebastian!”

“They fainted,” the student told him flatly. 

“What?” he hissed, rushing to where he last heard your voice, hands failing about to try and find any sign of you. When his hand landed on your shoulder, he let out a small breath of relief, almost as if he expected you to have disappeared entirely. “I’m taking them to the hospital wing,” he then announced, following down your arm to find the bend of your knees, intending to pick you up.

“No!” Sebastian protested. “You can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

“They’ll know we were using unforgivables,” the fifth-year stated. 

“What if we need you to open another door?” Sebastian commented at the same time. 

“Glad to see you both care so deeply about their safety,” Ominis scoffed.

“You can’t carry them and use your wand to lead you both,” Sebastian continued, looking for another excuse to keep the boy there. “Let’s find the end of this tunnel and then we’ll take them there together, deal?” 

Ominis sighed, head faced towards the floor. He didn’t want to delay getting you the help you needed, but Sebastian was right. He could crash you both into a wall and injure you further. As much as he hated to admit it, your health was in their hands now. 

“Just hurry up, will you?” he muttered quietly. 

---

When you finally awoke from your unconscious state, Ominis was asleep next to you. Looking around you noticed you were no longer in the dungeons, but instead in the hospital wing under watchful eyes. Well, not that Ominis could very well be included in that. 

As you turned to look at the boy next to you, you moved as quietly as possible. Lacking his sight, Ominis seemed to have much higher hearing abilities than anyone else you knew, so you knew that any sudden noise would be enough to wake him. Your theory was proved correct as he stirred awake at the small ruffle of the sheet. 

You watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out as if he changed his mind on speaking up. Instead, you saw his hand slowly reach out towards you, as if to confirm you were there. 

“I’m awake,” you told him with a smile. 

Ominis let out a small breath of relief. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded. “I didn’t expect it to last that long.” 

“It shouldn’t have,” he said, almost with a sneer. “That new student had to curse on you for longer than it needed to be. All we needed was for it to hit you, they made it linger. They’re lucky I don’t go straight to professor Black and have them expelled.”

Ominis’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he felt you lay your hand on top of his. 

“I’m alright,” you assured him again. “Lay with me.”

“I- What?”

“Please? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

Ominis sat still in thought for a moment, stammering slightly to himself before standing from his chair, feeling around the bed to make sure you were out of the way before laying down beside you. You layed your head onto his chest and exhaled deeply with a contented sigh. Ominis smiled gently to himself, his nose falling into your hair as he inhaled your scent. He decided then and there that it didn’t matter that he could never see you. Every other sense he had t otake you in was just fine for him. Your voice was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your laugh even more so. Your smell felt like home to him. He could tell you were in a room just by the smell of your shampoo. He could pinpoint which brand it was in a shop just with a small whiff alone. The touch of you skin never failed to comfort him in times of distress. The soft, delicate touch of your hand on his would always bring a smile to his lips. Your taste.. He was yet to be abpe to experiance. The only one of his available senses that has yet to experience you. The rest thought you were perfect, he could only imagine that would be the same.

That is, assuming he ever decides to do anything about his feelings for you. 

For now, however, this was enough for him.

Part Two

[fierymiasma]

✰ Homecoming ✰ // Sebastian x f!MC

Summary: She visits Sebastian in Azkaban ten years after sending him there. The years haven't been kind to him.

He decides to return the favor and pay her a visit in Feldcroft in her lonely cottage. He's not letting her out of his sight ever again.

Part 2

Tags: Dark!Sebastian, Azkaban!Sebastian, angst, Making out, Jealous!Sebastian, Obsession, Possessiveness, Sebastian living his villain era.

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

A/N: Thinking of making this a series.  Let me know what you think! 

"You don't have to do this."  Natty softly reminded her, eyes brimming with concern.

The savior of Hogwarts clenched her jaw, refusing to look at Natty.  The salt from waves crashing on the island that held Azkaban stung her eyes.  Ten years had passed since she had condemned Sebastian Sallow to Azkaban.  Not a day had gone by that she did not question her choices.

Had that one singular moment changed the course of her future?  Life after Hogwarts hadn't been too kind to her, though she suspected, she was a lot more fortunate than Sebastian.  Ominis and Anne were always there for her, whenever they had free time apart from each other, that is.  Maybe, Sebastian would find some comfort that his oldest friend was taking care of his twin sister.

She craned her neck up gazing at the imposing prison on front of her.

…Or maybe he'd be betrayed that Ominis had moved on from the other boy so quickly.

"Are you sure you're up for this?"  Natty asked again, interrupting her thoughts.  The auror worried at her bottom lip.  "My friend, we don't have to do this today.  Let's come back another time."

They both knew that was impossible.  Natty, the newly appointed head auror of her division had pulled so many strings to arrange this meeting.  And the hero of Hogwarts herself, had flexed her name to wave away any scrutiny.

Nervously, her hand drifting to her left shoulder, right on top of her most recent burn wound.  Nestled underneath protective wrapping was a reminder of her most recent bout of carelessness and string of poor decision making.  How many times had she staggered back to Feldcroft, bleeding on Anne's freshly polished doorsteps?  She knew Anne, Ominis, and all her friends hated the long spiral of self-loathing she had embarked on.  How she disappeared for days, even weeks at a time with little to no warning, only to come back wounded, pockets brimming with more gold and treasures.

Visiting Sebastian wouldn't be the first dumb decision she made this week.

"I have to do this, Natty."  She didn't know why.  "Let's go."

Passing through the heavy gated doors of the prison, she clutched her cape tighter, trying to protect herself from the bone-chilling cold around her.  She had been here once before, in her school days.  She looked around.  It was very much the same. She could see the puffs of cold air coming from her lips, no doubt thanks to the floating dementors above her.   Haunting, ghostly vestiges of men and women with dead eyes in living bodies.  Muttering anxious voices and abrupt screams echoed the long hallway to Sebastian's cell.  Decaying teeth in the emancipated skulls of prisoners waiting to die.

She was scared to see what had become of Sebastian, the troubled boy from her youth.

Walking deeper into the dark bowels of the prison, Natty stopped, shuffling nervously.  "You go on ahead.  I'll wait here."  It was too painful to see a once close childhood friend in the state he was in.

The hero of Hogwarts cringed.  This was all her fault.

Creeping up quietly to jail cell, she noticed how the fading moonlight illuminated the person imprisoned there.  A man's back was turned away from the door.  Shirtless, she could see the constellation of freckles.  Deep scars had long since healed in ragged patterns on his back.  There were long linear wounds freshly oozing.  Dark red, slowly clotting blood stained the beautiful freckles.  She shuddered to think how he could have gotten those.  His prison number was tattooed on his left deltoid.

The burn wound on her back tingled in sympathy. 

Sebastian. 

She must have whispered that out loud.  The boy-no-, the man, in front of her turned around.  She took a startled step back.

She expected hollowed wasting cheekbones like so many of the prisoners here.  What she hadn't expected was for Sebastian to have filled in so impressively.  All the adorable baby fat that had clung to his cheeks was now gone.  Well-defined toned muscles clung to his bones.  His shoulders were broader now.  He had a beard, which only framed his devastatingly handsome face.

And his eyes….fiercely beautiful, trained on her every movement like a predator lying in the shadows, waiting for his time to strike.  She couldn't help but shiver at the sight.  Sebastian blinked, his eyes roaming over her body, assessing her as much as she was him.

She inhaled sharply.  Underneath his scars, Sebastian had filled impressively. 

There was a pregnant pause as the two once friends looked at each other and how the decade of time had treated the other.

"I must finally be going mad, the most gorgeous girl in all of Hogwarts is standing right of front of me."  He cooed. 

She expected anger and resentment.  She hadn't expected this. 

She swallowed.  Well, looks like Azkaban didn't make him lose his charm.  "Hello, Sallow, I'm surprised you still remember me."

His voice was raspy.  "How could I forget?  The beautiful witch that put me behind these very bars."

He finally stood up, and she took another step back.  He was so much taller now.  The top of her head only came up to his shoulder now.  He got closer, hands gripping tightly on the bars of his cell.  "You look even more beautiful than the day I lost you."  His eyes roamed over her new curves greedily.  "Azkaban hasn't been kind to me.  But, someone must be looking out for me to bring you back to me."

The hero of Hogwarts coughed politely.  He was being far too forward.  "Sallow, I bring you news of Anne and Ominis, if you wish to hear it.  You deserve to know at least that."

Sebastian tilted his head and put on a mocking smile. "Oh, and where are they now?  I have not seen them since I walked through the doors of this prison."

She crossed her arms.  "They had good reason, Sallow."

His brows knitted together.  "Since when did you ever call me Sallow?  It's Sebastian to you, darling."

Her face burned.  Thank Merlin that the only guards here were witless dementors. 

"If you even care, both Anne and Ominis are well.  Anne is still in as much of good health as she can be, and Ominis is taking care of her."

He ignored her words.  "What about you?  How have you been?"  He asked.

She blinked.  The burn on her left scapula tightened in discomfort.  "I've been…well, I have a cottage in Feldcroft.  It was a good a place as any to settle down."

Sebastian pressed his face against the bars of his cell.  His manic, small pupils made him look a bit deranged.  "All by yourself?  No doting husband taking care of your every need?"

She said nothing, lest she reveal too much of her personal life.

Her silence was enough of an answer.  "Unmarried?"  The reflection of the torchlights flickered in his eyes.  "It is rare in this day and age to see a woman in her twenties unwed.  Why, some would wonder if you're waiting for someone."

She flushed.  He'd gone too far.  It seemed like a decade of Azkaban made him forget basic manners.  "That's none of your business, Sallow."  She barked.  She begun to turn away.

Wait," his hands clawed through the bars desperately grabbing after her.  "Please before you go, I just have one request."

Against every smart decision, she turned around. 

Sebastian grinned fiercely, his teeth clicking against the bars.  His sharp tongue dipped out licking his bottom lip.  "A kiss."

She was scandalized.  "Sebastian!  A kiss?  Here?"

His darkened eyes had not left hers.  He looked devilishly handsome.   "Not like the dementors could see."

This was a foolish mistake.  She shouldn't even be entertaining this madness.  And yet, she couldn't stop herself from stepping forward, getting closer to Sebastian's cell.  Her eyes fluttered towards his wide smile.  Sebastian had truly gone mad.  Angling her face between the bars, she leaned in.

Instantly, she was overwhelmed.  While she was expecting a chaste first kiss, Sebastian ravaged her.  His lips were heated, pressing bruisingly firm against hers.  The sharp tease of Sebastian's canine against her lips was dizzying.  Sebastian snuck his hands out of his cage, fingers clutching her hip.  Her skirt snagged the stone floor as he pulled her as hard as he could against the metal that were separating them.  This hypnotic kiss left her spellbound as Sebastian drank her red lips greedily.

She felt drunk when they parted.  Sebastian's tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip, chasing the last of her essence.  His dangerous eyes stared at her longingly.

As she left the depths of Azkaban with Natty, she couldn't stop thinking of those eyes that followed her as she left Sebastian.

It was their first kiss together, maybe their last. 

•.¸¸.•´¨* •.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`

The sky was a dark grey when Ominis delivered the news.  She had been tending to her garden, trying her best to trim back rebellious  venomous tentaculas.

His face was ashen, stricken with grief, when Ominis approached her.  He held the latest Daily Prophet in his hand.  And somehow without him saying anything, she knew what news he brought.

Sebastian Sallow, Murderer of Solomon Sallow, Found Dead in His Cell

She looked at the tall blonde man before her.  Although he was a grown man, he looked quite like the scared child in the Undercroft asking her what to do about Solomon's death.  His usually stoic face was grief striken, tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. 

Sebastian Sallow…..dead.

She looked at Ominis, the bearer of bad news.  The ground swam before her vision.  Her knees felt too weak to support her.

"A-are you alright?"  He asked, tentatively.  A stupid question really, given the news.

She preceded to vomit on her poor garlic shoots.

•.¸¸.•´¨* •.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`

It was two weeks since the death of Sebastian Sallow, a poor unfortunate boy who got mixed up in dark magic.  Ominis had taken care of the affairs, writing a polite, tersely short obituary.  Anne, took the unfortunately very familiar task of identifying and laying the body to rest.

And the hero of Hogwarts had done nothing.  Nothing but wallow in her bed.  Her limbs numb and body cold.  She was fortunate that Anne was capable of such strength as the poor sister ironically took care of her as she laid in bed her grief unable to move her. 

It was frankly pathetic for the strongest witch of their generation to be taken care of someone like Anne, especially given that it was Anne's own brother who had passed. 

"Please, you cannot lay in bed all day."  Anne sat beside her bed, begging the grieving girl.

She said nothing.  She hadn't spoken much since Ominis had told her the news.

Anne sighed before gathering her skirt.  She gingerly got up and moved towards the front door of the cottage.

The hero of Hogwarts stared listlessly at her friend's trailing form.

It was unfortunate that the wizarding world viewed ancient magic and dueling prowess as a greater strength over Anne's strong will. 

"I'm sorry."  she whispered lamely, knowing how inadequate her words were.

Anne turned around, staring at her.  The dark circles under the twin's eyes made her appear much older than she was.  She nodded slightly before closing the front door of the cottage behind her.

The minutes, or perhaps hours, passed languidly as the hero of Hogwarts laid in her bed.  By now all her magical plants have for sure wilted.  She was sure that the food remaining in her pantry had long rotten.  But she paid no heed to these.

Sebastian…

…what had she done?

"Hello, darling."

Emerging from the shadows on her cottage, like a dark creature, was Sebastian Sallow himself. 

For the first time in two weeks, she shot out of bed, hands habitually fumbling for her wand.

He looked nothing like how he did back in Azkaban.  Beard completely gone, hair trimmed, wearing robes that flattered his appearance, and smelling of unfamiliar cologne.  She couldn't help but wonder if he had done to escape Azkaban.

She shivered, thinking about the dead body they found in Sebastian's cell. 

"What's the matter?  Lost for words?"

Her mouth was agape.  What was he was doing here?  How did he get in without her noticing? She had half a mind to yell.  Ominis and Anne were so close that they would come to aid in in a minute's notice.

"Don't think about screaming for help."  Sebastian said, pacing the room.  I have already muffliatoed the whole cottage."

Her voice was sore from disuse.  "You shouldn't be here."

He looked around at the various of extraordinary knick knacks and forbidden trinkets that she had collected on her adventures.  His long robes swept around him.  "You have made yourself a nice little home."  His eyes flickered towards the single sized bed she slept on.  "Looks rather lonely doesn't it."

She was afraid.  She knew of a Sebastian Sallow, the big-hearted charismatic boy from 5th year.  This version of Sebastian, the man before her, was something else entirely.

He was a beast free of his cage.  Without the bars of Azkaban in between them, what was Sebastian capable of? 

He tapped a wand, something Sebastian wasn't supposed to have, loudly against his thigh.   He wasn't supposed to have one.  They had snapped his beautiful green handled wand in two the second he stepped foot in Azkaban.

Her eyes tracked Sebastian's pacing form closely.  "Are you going to kill me?"  She asked, her voice finally catching up to her.

Sebastian scowled,  "That's the first thing that's on your mind?"

She swallowed.  The wand in Sebastian's hand was very familiar.  "Why else would you be here then?  Other than to get revenge for what I did to you."

Sebastian laughed.  It was not the loving, charming one from school, but hallow and terrifying.  "Don't play dumb, darling.  You're far too clever for that."  He crowded her, nose practically touching hers.  The back of her knees hit the edge of her bed.  "You know why I'm here."

She inhaled deeply.  "I haven't had the foggiest idea what you mean."  She said, turning her head away from him.  He was so close to her, the tip of his nose brushed against her turned cheek.  "Please get out of my house.  I swear won't call for help.  I won't tell a soul you were here."

"You wound me.  After all you did to me, and you pretend to be a stranger."

"I have no idea what you mean."  She insisted through gritted teeth.

A very familiar wand pressed into her chin lifting her face up to look into his dark eyes.  "So you just let any crazy loon in Azkaban steal your precious wand from your pocket as you kiss them?  You just happen to have a bottle of Polyjuice potion in your left pocket, a potion you never carried back when we were in school together?"

She squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to drown on Sebastian's words.

She felt a hot breath of air against her ears.  "You let any man in Azkaban get close enough to you to kiss you?"

She collapsed onto her bed, head dizzy.  She blinked back tears.  To be held hostage by her own wand.  A part of her wondered if by tomorrow morning aurors would find her dead in her own house, killed by her own wand.

Sebastian wouldn't do that…would he? 

"Sebastian, I don't like what you're implying.  It's a crime to break anyone out of Azkaban.  Please," she sobbed.  "why are you here?"

Sebastian softened, his expression almost close to something she would recognize in her youth.  "You're full of surprises.  There I was, about to lose all hope and finally wither away like the rest of them when a miracle stumbles upon my cell."

She drew her knees to her chest.

" I'm here simply because I wanted to thank the prettiest girl I know for breaking a dangerous criminal like me out of Azkaban."

Bile swirled in her stomach.  She didn't know why she did it.  She didn't know what compelled her to spend a whole month brewing Polyjuice potion before seeing Sebastian.  She didn't know why she kept her wand in a conspicuous easy to grab location.   Sh-She hadn't…meant to do it.  It wasn't a conscious decision on her part.  There was no thorough thought-out plan in motion.

The ruse was up.  She sighed blinking away the tears.  "I knew you weren't dead.  The second that the Daily Prophet announced it, I knew you had escaped, and I was responsible for it."  She shook her head, trying to chase the tears away.  "Why I don't know is why are you here in Feldcroft in my house.  You could be anyway in the world right now.  Why here?  For payback?  For revenge?  To torture me?"

Sebastian's sly smile faltered a bit.  Did she really think so little of him?  In all of his years of Azkaban, all the torture, the madness…Did she not know, the only thing keeping him sane was his love of her?  How she was the shining beacon, a version of his own inner Patronus, in the darkness that not even the dementors could take away.  Perhaps they could drain him of their shared good memories, perhaps they could remove the happiness he felt upon thinking of her.  But what the dementors couldn't shake his pure love for her.  The thought of vengeance or any malice towards her hadn't even crossed his mind before she mentioned it. 

"Why wouldn't I come home to you?  This is where I belong, next to you."  Carefully, he wiped the tears away from her eyes.  His heavily scarred hands slowly found hers.  His coarse thumb rubbed circles in her smooth skin.  Gingerly, he uncurled her fingers, before gently returning her own wand back into her hand.  "If you have any misgivings, if you're afraid of me, you can petrify me and return me right back to Azkaban.  My life is once again, in your hands."

She held her own wand numbly in her hand.  Her mind blank, heart pounding in her throat.  Sebastian was so good at convincing Ominis and her to follow his lead while they were in school.  Was this all a mind game?  

She shifted back in her bed until her back met the cool wall of her cottage.  Sebastian stalked forward.  Gently, he gripped her by the chin forcing her to look up. 

As an adult, well-versed in ancient magic, she was seldom afraid, both in her personal life or on the dueling grounds.  She wasn't supposed to be afraid of Sebastian.  She knew what he was capable of.  In a fight, she was confident that she would come out on top.

So why did her heart beat so fast when he was so close to her?

"Scared?"  Sebastian drawled, sensing her unease.  "Nervous even?  No protective prison bars separating you and me."  His breath was hot against her lips as he leaned forward. 

"S-Sebastian."  She whispered.

He pulled back a bit, calculating gaze assessing her expression.  "I might be a criminal, but I'm not a monster."  His brown eyes looked lighter.  "Say that you don't want this.  Say you're disgusted by me and this will all go away."

"Sebastian.  Please."

He surged forward, his mouth meeting hers.  She felt again the familiar wave of helplessness and the surging tide of warmth on her lips.  If she thought their brief kiss in Azkaban was addictive, this was ten times more so.  His insistent mouth was parting her trembling lips, drawing out sweet sensations that she had never felt before.   

She knew, knew that kissing Sebastian Sallow, was a terrible idea.  But the protesting voices of her head were lost to the drum of her hot pulse and the tingle of her ready lips.

They broke apart, gasping for air.  His arms curved protectively around her, nestling his nose into the crook of her neck.  He smiled into her hair.  He was home.  

He would do anything in his power to make sure that he would stay.

Part 2

[vader-anakin]

Sebastian Stan starring as Steve Kemp

FRESH (2022)

[diejager]

New Ownership

Pairing: Dark!Krueger + König x doll!reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, possessive behaviour, magic?, death, heartbreak, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.2k

You used to watch people awe at you, expressing their shock, incredulous and pleasing, under the protection of your owner —your creator. You were an object of emotion; of melancholy. You were a life size doll made of porcelain and wax, of hohair and glass eyes, painted in the richest pigments and dressed in the finest fabrics, you were the epitome of treasure in your time. A doll made with utmost care and tenderness to heal a wounded heart. 

Your creator was a doll maker, building every doll with a special kind of affection, be it for his collection or for a client, he always loved his dolls. He made as much as he gave, the single joy of his life was the present his late-wife gave him, a daughter to call his own, someone soft and living unlike the cold bisque of his creations. You were a present for her coming-of-age, a mimicry of her person, made with love for the adoration he had for his daughter, and sadness for seeing her grow up and leave, to start a new life without him. Every stroke was perfection and every detail was imperfection, you were perfectly imperfect, a mirror to a human.

You were made as an object to remember him by once she left to live with her fiance, painted in the last moments before he saw her off. He dressed you up in a pretty dress, a voluptuous crimson for the passion and a deep black for the end of he past and the start of a new beginning. He made you into what he saw his sweet, precious daughter as, a dream that he was ecstatic to gift, but she was in an accident the week before her celebration. She died of it, passing in writhing pain and tearful agony. It broke the man who lived to care. Your tender creator who lived to love and give.

He drowned in the throes of sorrow and agony, paraliysed by his own fears and torn apart by his nightmares, and left the house you once loved to rot and waste away just as he was. Sobbing nights and depressing mornings, you were unable to do anything but watch as he spent his days rotting, his skin sinking, his hair outgrow and his complexity pale unhealthily, yet he still cared for you. Your creator —your father cleaned you, dressed you and incased you in a thin layer of wax and gel to protect you from the changing times. 

You gave him solace, something to live for after he closed his quaint shop and became a hermit, crazed and lonely, having nothing but you to talk to and spend his shortening time with. You wished you could tell him how much you cared, how much you shared his sorrows or how saddened you were to see him like this. And like his daughter, your father passed away, heartbroken and lonely, leaving you to watch over his cooling body dissolving in his bed. All the wasted years, spent seated in your chair, unmoving and unliving, never being able to reach out to him to show him how much you loved him. Life, however, ran its course, uncaring of any kind of self-sought fury or self-given agony, you were just a doll given conscience and memory. 

You were picked up by a relative, estranged and distant from yours. He was German, or Austrian from the rough tone he used, a deep growl as he appraised you, rough fingers caressing your face like he was admiring you. He was, this wasn’t admiration in his eyes, you knew it, that sick and twisted gleam in his brown eyes, it was obsession. It was a perverted kind of adoration, it made you fear what he would do to you.

And these fears, these demons that clung to your peripheral, weren’t unfounded, weren’t an illusion your conscience made up to fill the void in your empty core. You were carefully stuffed in a box, stored safely during the long move from your small town in Germany to a place in Austria, locked away in a loud and dark place and only brought out to be placed in another cage of gold. 

He laid you in a pentagram of sorts, a crooked thing painted in a dark red and terrifying runes that promised nothing but evil. He enacted this… ritual that would affect you in some way, his low chants and hisses while he stared you down with hungry eyes once he stripped you of all clothes, lathering your porcelain with markings. He scared you more, knowing that he had this planned out, and that he wasn’t alone. 

There was a shadow of a giant behind him, a man heads taller than most with cold eyes peeking through a fabric to gaze at you. He had broad shoulders and thick arms, seemingly swallowing the corner he stood from. He took up a lot of your attention, ripped between the chanting man and him from your chair, placed perfectly at the center of this ritualistic circle. You were a show to the giant and a project to your new owner, a spectacle to watch unravel and writhe in pain.

It hurt. Why did this hurt? Your skin tingled, an annoyance that grew to a boiling agony, this sacrilegious magic reworking your imperfect body to fit one of his whims. You shook in your chair, the red sinking into your skin, lining the inside of your precious porcelain with runes as your fingers and toes flexed, limbs jerking from the information overload on your new nerves, synapses snapping into place and building a circuit of sensitive system. You could blink and you could cry, tears springing from your fluttering lashes, lips trembling before you screamed, a shrill cry that wailed out of your lungs. 

Your chest burned, it felt heavy with an erratic pulse, beat after beat slamming into your calcified ribs, warm fat and strained muscles. You felt like you were drowning, your throat clogged with something sick and dying after you shriek, acidic to your tongue. It stole the air from your lungs and you had to fill it back, the nagging urge to do so. Your chest expanded with your first breath, it hurt - it burned, but you didn’t drown - but it seamed the first seed of life within you. 

You slumped forward, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the last words he uttered passed through your mind, a searing memory forever imprinted in your conscience. You fell into warm arms, a soothing warmth unlike the boiling pit of magma that raged over you, embracing you with a quiet coo from the man who brought you to life. He hoisted you up, wrapping an arm under your knees and another firmly pressing your naked chest to his. Yours limbs were strangers to you, new and uncanny that you couldn’t move or control just yet. You limply laying your head in the crook of his neck, burying your nose in a green veil smelling strongly of musk and metal, your legs too weak and arms too tense like a newly born fawn.

“Besorg mir etwas, um sie zu bedecken, König”

“Ja, bin gleich wiener da..”

“Welcome to the living, Rehkitz.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[musette22]

The evolution of Sebastian Stan in all black (2010-2023)

[rene-spade]

my recent Thoughts

lovedrunk max verstappen with a hyperfeminine gf who he lets beat him at everything! it all started when she beat him in a card game and he realized he likes it 😳

obsessive carlos sainz x crash out single mom who used to steal cars for a living (she WILL be from atlanta ga just like most crash outs. maybe she fights any fan that tries to flirt with him.)

possessive sebastian vettel x single mom reader who’s baby looks just like the babydaddy (seb’s jealous your honor) he does everything he can to rub his relationship with her and her daughter in the ex’s face

lovedrunk mclaren era kimi räikkönen with his charismatic gf who tries to teach him social skills and wants him to behave during interviews (he tries begrudgingly bc he’s obsessed with her)

growing up räikkönen au | baby räikkönen has a crippling case of daddy’s girl syndrome and will not hear any complaints about her isä (she’s not in denial, she just doesn’t care)

[tragediambulante]

Saint Sebastian, Jusepe de Ribera, 1636