#ominis x mc

[the-ozzie]

Flower crowns

Featuring the lovely Noelle ( @noelles-legacy ‘s mc) A little continuation of their super cute comic they made!! Hope I did noelle justice!

[phinik]

[zvdvdlvr]

— Comfort in Your Arms

— 🐍 synopsis. You have a nightmare, Ominis comforts you.

— 🐍 warnings. Bad writing. Non-descriptive torture.

A bloody arm reached for your wand, wrapping it’s spidery fingers around it. You stood up on shaky legs, sparks of green and red magic lighting your way forward. 

As you progressed through the dark room, screams pierced your ears. But the weird thing was: they didn’t make your skin crawl. You felt nothing as you pushed open the door to a whole different room.

In the center of the room sat a blond boy. The center of his eyes were milky white, seeming to stare into your own eyes. You came forward. He was bound to a chair, ankles tied to each leg of the chair. His arms were restained with rope behind his back. “Please don’t do this,” he pleaded.

You felt a tickling in the back of your brain: he seemed familiar.

However, you stayed silent as you stared the boy down even though he couldn’t see.

“Please, darling. Let me go. This- It’s not you. I know it’s not. Let me go,” he pleaded. His voice cracked, tears falling down his pale cheeks. “Darling, please.”

A wand raised. A bloody hand- your hand- lifted a wand. Wordlessly, you flicked your wand.

Loud screams. The boy in the chair thrashed in the chair, screaming. The chair kept him in place, despite his violent attempts to escape. His sobs reached your ears, and yet again you felt that tingling in the back of your mind.

“Please, y/n! Stop it, darling please!” He sobbed, head thrown back. His molars ground together as he tried to silence himself.

Y/n.

“Y/n please!” He repeated, over and over. His voice soon quieted, vocal cords sore from overuse.

Soon the room began to shake. You looked up and around, noticing cracks in the ceiling, revealing the white sky beyond the walls of the torture chamber.

“Y/n!” 

You felt your knees buckle as a part of the ceiling fell. 

“Y/n!”

You fell forward.

“Y/n!”

You shot up, coughing. You felt a sharp pain on tje skin of your sternum as you turned your head quickly, seeing your darling boyfriend kneeling on the couch beside you. “I ca- I can’t bre-“ you stuttered, pain growing sharper in your chest.

“Breathe, my darling,” Ominis cooed, moving to tear your hands away from your body, smelling the sharp scent of iron on your hands. “It’s okay, y/n. You’re here.”

You slowly calmed down, filling your lungs with air as Ominis guided you through the aftermath of… whatever hell that was. Tears fell down your face, falling onto your’s and Ominis’s clasped hands and sliding away, down to the floor. 

“I didn’t realize you were still out in the common room,” Ominis started slowly. “I thought you’d gone to bed. I didn’t know you were here, y/n, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered back, still thinking of the pain you had caused your boyfriend. Yes, it was a dream, but you feared the person you were turning into: fighting Ranrok’s pitiful group of Loyalist’s, battling money hungry Poachers who are more than willing to cast Unforgivables at you, and following Sebastian down the dark path he was headed; retrieving Salazaar’s spellbook, casting crucio on you, completely disregarding your and Ominis’s advice about staying safe. You feared you would become like the people you tried so hard to defeat.

Yet again the sound of Ominis’s screams… so vivid and life like floated around your brain. You wouldn’t allow him to get hurt- especially on your accord. “Ominis, I-“

Ominis stayed quiet as you cut yourself off. “What was it about, darling?” He asked quietly.

Tears sprung in your eyes. “It was horrible. Ominis it was you… You were ti-tied to a chair,” you explained, openly crying, not even caring about the time or how loud you were. “I was standing there. T-Torturing you. You kept begging me to stop, begging me ‘please’-“ sobs wracked your body as you crumpled into yourself, feeling Ominis’s warm body peel your face away from your hands as you scrubbed harshly at your eyes. “To stop. You told me you knew it wasn’t me. But-But you kept pleading me to make it stop.”

Ominis moved to sit by you, wrapping your arms around his body as he shushed you. He hadn’t realized exactly what you were going through. Ominis knew he loved you, and felt guilty for not noticing your troubles. He should have noticed sooner.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ominis,” you whimpered, voice hoarse.

“You won’t, my love. You could never hurt me. I promise,” he soothed, carding his fingers through your hair and hoped the gesture helped calm you down.

“But what it-“

“Stop,” Ominis cut in. “You will never be like them.”

You went limp in his arms as your cries slowed. “You deserve more than me, better than me,” you whispered as if to yourself.

“Absolutely not, y/n. Not one more word from you,” Ominis spoke. He slowly untangled your limbs from his. You looked up, scared you had actually sent him away.

“Come stay in the dorm with me. Sebastian is out doing good knows what at this hour. And the other one’s at his girlfriend’s common room.”

You took Ominis’s hand and stood up on shaky legs. You barely had time to grab your wand before Ominis swept you off your feet and into his arms. He knew the way to his dorm with his eyes closed (ha!) so carrying you would be no problem.

Despite the short travel to the boys’ dorms, you almost fell asleep. Ominis’s scent surrounding you and his secure grip put you at ease more than you would admit.

As he pushed the door open, you blinked awake. Ominis set you on his bed and silently changed into his nightclothes as you got inder the covers. After setting your wand on the nighttable, you snigfled further into Ominis’s pillow and waited for him to hold you.

Ominis pulled you onto him as soon as his butt touched the mattress. “C’mere, my love,” he murmured, letting you lie on him. Your ear rested on the silk shirt that covered his heart. “I know you deserve more than me telling you at one in the morning, but, I love you. I love you more than my whole soul y/n. You don’t have to say it back. I just-“

You brought yourself up to Oninis’s face and fently pressed tour lips on his, cutting of his increasingly anxious rambling. As he fell quiet under you, you pulled away breathlessly. “I love you too, Ominis Gaunt. More than you’ll ever know.”

You fell asleep soon after. Ominis closed his eyes and waited for sleep to find him, thankful that you found safety in him.

[sweetiebean00]

Of Nifflers and Magic

"Excuse me? Ominis?"  

Ominis lifted his wand from where it had been skimming the pages of one of his homework assignments. The quill dropped carefully beside the sheet as he tilted his head up to the voice that spoke. It was soft, quiet and rather meek. But not unrecognizable. Breathing in the scent of parchments and ink, he played the notes of the voice over. Coming to a stop to the new fifth year Sebastian had taken under his wing, the last time he spoke to her had been when Ominis found her coming out of the Undercroft. She had spoken quick, sharp even, a protective surge probably welling inside her to save Sebastian from his wrath. She was a Hufflepuff, loyalty was strong in them.

"Yes?"

"I- I am sorry for attempting to lie to you, about the Undercroft, but I had made a promise and am not keen on breaking my word on anything." He blinked, that was not what he was expecting. Before he could speak, she continued on. "I am also sorry for taking so long to come to you and say that properly or formally, however I have also come because I know not who else would be able to help."

"You have Sebastian at your side, could you not ask him?"

It wasn't sharp, it wasn't meant to be rude. The sound of shifting fabric filled the silence, and he got the impression she was shifting on her feet. Sebastian was an excellent wizard, if he hadn't been a Slytherin, Ominis would've had him pegged as a Ravenclaw.

"I- well, I can't." She swallowed, his brows raised but before he could question she was speaking in a rush. Her voice raising in pitch. "I can't ask him this and I can't really explain it, but it is about Sebastian, and well, you are really smart, and I was wondering if you could pretty please help me?"

"Are you wanting to court him?" 

It wouldn’t be the first time one of the many girls in their school had sought out Ominis to help with courting, confessions, and other such things. Unlike Anne who would either scare them off or use them to prank Sebastian, he didn’t help nor hinder them. Merely suggesting they go and talk to him themselves. Even if it always ended the same way, usually with Sebastian enjoying some time with them before one or both of them moved on.

His question earned a snort so loud it earned a very harsh shush from Madam Scribner. Ominis had no doubt the old librarian was scowling and keeping a watchful eye on them in the corner of her precious library. He waited, the silence thick as they waited for the librarian to go back to whatever it was she had been up to originally. Despite the stares he could feel gathered from the other students around them that had chosen to hide away in the library for Merlin knew what reasons.

If Ominis hadn’t known better, he’d think she was intimidated by him. That his reputation, his last name, had scared the socks off her feet. Except, he had felt the strength of her glare that night outside the Undercroft. He hadn’t needed sight to see the ferocious gleam of daggers that she sent his way, that if looks could kill he’d long since been dead. He felt it, the animosity, the protective way she had stepped between him and that damn door to send words so sharp they could’ve cut him to bits to protect his best friend. The bite to her voice, the cold timbre of apathy? He didn’t know her well, but he knew one thing for certain. There was no chance she was scared of him.

"Merlin no, he's just one of my first friends and is very protective. He figures hanging around me helps deter some unwanted peers." She breathed a laugh, before swallowing thickly. "It is about him, but uh, I can't ask him either. And before you think it's part of that… thing -it's not that either."

Ominis released a breath through his nose, his gut twisting the more she rambled. He had never thought the bright, walking ray of wild sunshine to be a nervous rambler. He could hear her fidgeting the longer he went without responding, the soft scruff and tap of her shoes against the hardwood. Her tie tapping against her chest as she no doubt pulled at the collar of her shirt, the soft thud of her braid hitting her back. He wouldn't be getting any answers to explain here, that much was clear. And despite everything, that was still his best friend. This is a... new student surrounded by peers who have already made their friends and grown up together, a person his best friend had taken in under his arm much like Sebastian had done for Ominis with Anne once. Slowly, as her words never once stopped, Ominis had gathered everything. Vanishing it all with a flick of his wand to be summoned later when he had the time to focus on his History of Magic homework.

"I will help, lead the way." Ominis paused, mind racing as a rock sank into his stomach. What... What was her name? Did he ever actually get it? Did he ever actually introduce himself?

She grinned, the rambling cut off with a breath of relief. At least he hoped it of was relief. She seemed to wait until his wand was out, the tip lighting up to help guide him through the castle. The walk was quiet, tense, and he was not expecting her to be quiet the entirety of the walk. How often he hears her voice as he wanders the halls, she was always doing something. Talking with her friends, to the portraits, humming to herself or just making some general noise if she wasn't getting up to something she wasn't. Although he hadn't witnessed her being sneaky as a secondhand person, but to be fair, she stood no chance of hiding from him that night outside the Undercroft. He remembers Sebastian earning a detention with Scribner for sneaking in with the girl, but had always assumed his friend had been his chivalric and self-sacrificing type because she had attracted Peeves attention. Now he was wondering what had really happened that night. 

"I don't believe we ever properly met each other," Ominis said after a moment, hearing her steps stumble as she tripped on her own foot. In the blink of an eye, he had her arm in his hand. Catching her in time to keep her upright. "I'm Ominis, Ominis Gaunt."

"Sebastian talks of you often," She said, her tone lighter. Soft, and he had a feeling she was smiling. "I'm Clara, Clara Clyde."

"Tis a pleasure, now," He breathed a heavy sigh, earning a giggle from his traveling companion as they traversed the stairs. "What exactly has Sebastian gotten himself into this time?"

"Oh! That!" The sound of fabric rustled once more as the silence seemed to stretch. "Well, you see, it's actually rather interesting, but-"

"You're stalling, and rambling again." He snorted at her squeak, "Not that I mind, but I would rather know what I am going to be walking into."

"Yeah that-that's fair." She sighed, her steps slowing beside him as they climbed the last step. "Okay, we were dueling. I had learned a new spell and I'm rather ruddy with... this type of magic, and had been practicing it on barrels and other things. Sebastian however, said the best way to improve was to duel and use it."

Ominis could feel the start of a migraine with the way this was going, because of fucking course that was Sebastian's idea. With his free hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Breathing in deeply only to sigh. 

“Of course he did, that idiot, I swear all he thinks about is dueling, finding a cure, and researching.”

She snorted a laugh that sounded more tense than amused, but she got points in his book for trying. 

"Yes well, it was this or he was going to hunt down a couple of students it would be best he didn't hunt down."

"Hunt down?" Ominis reiterated, "Just what would cause such a thing?"

"It's... a long story, for another time." She huffed a breath, tugging on his sleeve as they walked the hall to stop in front of a blank wall. "We dueled, it worked, except now... well, this is where you come in."

The sound of stone crumbling and moving filled the hallway, and he lifted his wand to get a better picture in his mind as the completely blank and empty wall in Hogwarts... turned into a door. He blinked, but then she was walking to the door and pushing it open. The hold on his sleeve guiding him in before the door shut behind him. The Room of Requirements, no wonder she was never found in the Undercroft, Sebastian had been pitchin a fit for weeks now. Claiming Ominis had scared her off, but he wouldn't go there either if he had a sentient room.

"Because we are stuck with this otherwise, and I’d rather not." 

He frowned, about to question what she had been talking about when he heard the highest, squeakist chirp-like grumble in his entire life. He grimaced, it was almost as if someone was trying to strangle or step on a cat. Or a rat was trying to sing, but was wailing instead. The sound pierced his ears, a migraine forming behind his eyes.

"Sebastian!" At the sound of her voice, it went silent. Only for furious chirping and grumbling to respond, "You put that down right now! You are not dying! Ominis is here to help-!"

More chirping.

"Is Sebastian-?"

"A niffler?" Clara huffed, the sound of struggle growing louder before she was stomping about the room. "Yes. I'm rather shite at transfiguration magic, and he wanted to try- ow! You don't need a wiggenweld!"

"So let me see if I understand correctly." Ominis pointed his wand at Sebastian, the image in his mind showing the silhouette of Clara's short figure snatching Sebastian out of her potion's cauldron. "You've transfigured Sebastian into a niffler. And... can't turn him back?"

Furious chirping was followed by a heavy sigh, "Not particularly, no. I tried but he wouldn't stop chirping and well-"

She was interrupted by yet more chirping as the sound of water splashing made him snort at her long-suffering sigh. Despite the dire situation, he couldn't the grin on his lips. This was one way for Sebastian to actually learn more about dueling, and it did teach him a lesson. Dueling wasn't the answer to every spell-casting related problem. Walking from the doorway, Ominis hummed in thought. While he could transfigure Sebastian back, this was a learning moment for her. What better way to learn than try again?

"Maybe your intent wasn't clear?" She was silent, even Sebastian went silent at the question. Allowing himself to be snatched out of the cauldron once more as she carried him to the center of the room to meet Omnis in the middle. "Here, Sebastian, behave. Clara, set him down and really mean the spell to turn him into his true form. If it doesn't work, I'll take care of him and we can give you proper practice that won't lead to... this."

"You want me... to try again?" 

Ominis nodded, only for the silence to be broken by Sebastian throwing the most dramatic tantrum Ominis had seen of a niffler or Sebastian in general. He was grumbling and chirping up a storm. Ominis rolled his eyes, snatching Sebastian from her careful hands and placing him on the floor. He held him by the scruff of his neck, voice steady and calm.

"Don't move or I will cast arresto momentum and leave you like that for a few more days." Sebastian released an indignant chirp, but when Ominis released him he didn't move. "There, try again."

Clara took a breath and held it, he could practically feel her nerves. He heard the air whooshing around her wand, heard her mutter the words clearly under her breath. Then she was casting, and the last thing he heard was terrified chirping. A moment of silence, then all Ominis could hear was the sound of hair ruffling, and a long, low hum. A very unhappy, low hum.

"Oh no."

"Did you just turn him-"

"-into a puffskein? Yep." She popped the p, and he snorted. Earning a nervous chuckle from her. "Well, at least we know I won the duel since he can't fight back, right?"

Ominis couldn't help it, laughing so hard his stomach hurt as her own giggles joined him in the room of requirement. All the while that low hum remained and Ominis could almost hear Sebastian's cursing, his whines as he begged Ominis to please just help him. For them to stop laughing. With the flick of his wand, Ominis transfigured Sebastian back into himself. 

"Oh, thank Merlin, I thought I was going to have to live in your vivariums for a moment there!"

Clara laughed harder, and while Ominis wasn't sure what a vivarium was, it did amuse him further. He couldn't hear Sebastian over their laughter, but when his loud and boisterous laugh joined in. Ominis felt peace, felt ease for the first time since Anne got cursed and Sebastian started looking for a cure on his own. Mayhaps, the new fifth year wasn't walking trouble like he had thought.

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[rhewart]

If the crucio scene was realistic.

I’ve been thinking about this moment for a little while now. The mc seemed to brush off crucio as if nothing happened. Like whatttt. Nooo.

This is really how it would go down.

Aneira (MC) would be in utter agony. looking for anything/one to cling onto.

Ominis would be freaking out and having ptsd flashbacks from hearing Aneira (MC) screaming. But he’s a gentle soul and he knows what it’s like to be struck by that curse so he would try his absolute best to comfort Aneira (MC) through it.

And Sebastian would be in total shock from seeing the true consequences to using curses. He would just freeze up.

All in all I think this scene would be utter panic and chaos in reality.

[spaceyaceface]

You Were The First

Ominis Gaunt x f!Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

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

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

Warnings: Mentions/Implications of child abuse

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

When Ominis Gaunt fell in love, he fell slowly. 

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

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

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

But somehow, she made his walls come tumbling down. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so he obliged. 

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this? Attack Sebastian Sallow Day?” 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did he rely so effortlessly on her? 

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

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

He’d trust her with his life. 

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

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

-

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

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

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

“I’m sure we’ll be—” 

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

“I think I see a path, come on now.” 

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

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

“We made it,” she said softly. 

“Barely.” 

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

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

“You’re awful.”

“You’re the one who laughed.” 

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Ominis,

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

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

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

Yours,

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You worry about me too much.” 

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

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

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

-

The first time she held him he fell apart. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What… what do you—”

“You’re crying.”

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

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

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

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

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

They never went back up to their dorms that night.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s lovely,” she said. 

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

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

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

“Ominis…” 

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

“I love you.” 

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

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

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

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

After that he lost count.

[ominis-gaunt-slytherin]

Sebastian, Ominis & MC by Pasta As Avatar

[celerydays]

Pairing: Sebastian x Ominis x f!Hufflepuff!MC

Warnings: A suggestive/censored panel of spicy dreams, voyeurism

(This IS going to be heading towards explicit smut after this, so just know that this is overall 🔞 NSFW / MDNI 🔞)

Synopsis: It's their seventh year and Clementine, aka "Em", has been running herself ragged and hardly taking the time to rest. She finally decides to take a brief nap in the Undercroft where no one could possibly find or bother her. Aside from two Slytherins, that is...

Length: 9 pages

master comic post | all related/tagged posts | my art | support me on ko-fi

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3 – coming soon]

👀 oh?

~~~~~

A/N: The rest of the parts going forward will be uploaded as image previews with links to the full pages on twitter / poipiku~

Updates will be SLOWWW since I'm also learning how to storyboard, map out dialogue, SFX, panels, and backgrounds as I go. Making a comic for the first time feels like it's literally causing my brain to have to rewire and function differently rn lol 🫠

I'm hoping/aiming to complete Part 2 in maybe...2 weeks-ish, now that I have a slightly better idea of how long this takes me 🫡💗

//Taglist//

@akashia94 / @blueseachelle @bunnybabyfanpage @bxrabbito / @cathyket @cinnamon-bun47 / @daughterofthemoon92 @doigettokeepyou @dragonoficeandwind @dreamqueenkala @drwhogeek91 / @eleanorstaghart / @fangirl-criminalminds-garvez @finalgirllx / @grandeoatmilklatte / @hotcinnam0nspicy / @infinitivesky @irishgal2022 / @jeniffler @justadreamer20 @just-another-fanfiction-writer / @lyl1pad @loving-him-was-red13 / @mediocrefruitlover @motelwitches @my-amazing-nerdyness / @nightelfanabell / @phinik / @sandrys-stuff-blog @sarcasticpluviophile @slinket @somekindof-losersclub @slytherin-paramour / @thecheesenmain / @weirdraccoon

[5sospenguinqueen]

Sebastian: I hear you like bad boys.

MC: Yeah, I suppose so.

Sebastian: (to Ominis) Tell her.

Ominis: He's literally the worst.

[kelleig]

Why pick one?

[elizahannah24]

Searching some Ominis and MC fanart until I found this, it reminds me of Nancy Altman as well 💚

@slytherinmodqueen

[slytherinsprincesss]

Sebastian: Hey MC, are you busy Saturday around 3?

MC: No? Why?

Sebastian: What about you Ominis? Are you busy Saturday at 3?

Ominis: No Sebastian, I’m not.

Sebastian: Perfect, because I am! You two go ahead to get butterbeer without me. Enjoy your date ;)

MC: did he just-

Ominis: yes, he did just set us up.

**I feel like Sebastian would be a great wingman to Ominis (when he really tries)**

[shadowtriovibes]

something wretched about this, something so precious about this

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 3k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), PIV sex, language kink, parseltongue kink

Summary: request: "mc finds herself absolutely taken with Ominis and his parselmouth." aka mc is absolutely taken with ominis' mouth in every sense of the word

“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious. “N-no,” you whine. « I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »

The first time you heard Ominis speak Parseltongue, you’d found it to be almost antithetical. It had sounded so bizarre coming out of his mouth, so different from the gentlemanly manner in which he most often spoke. Yet the strength of his snakelike voice sounded somehow familiar, and the way his sighing, hissing words wrapped around you felt like sinking into a warm bath.

“It worked!” you’d exclaimed, hoping your voice wasn’t trembling. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

Minutes later you’d writhed on the floor in unimaginable pain and all thoughts of Ominis’ potentially disreputable talent had flown from your mind. In fact, you’d been so rattled from being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse that it took several days for you to recall that you were no longer the sole member of your little trio with a rare gift.

A month later you’d asked Sebastian about it while you were studying for Charms, lazily levitating stacks of books while he had been pouring over Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook.

“What does being a Parselmouth mean?” you asked him curiously.

“Means you can talk to snakes,” he replied, half listening. “Understand them, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that, thanks.”

Sebastian looked up from his book with a skeptical expression on his face. “Then what exactly are you asking?”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, I just… Ominis made it sound like it was a bad thing, to be known as a Parselmouth. Like it’s given him a bad reputation. Why is that?”

Carefully closing his spellbook, Sebastian sits back and considers his words carefully before continuing.

“Well, the answer to that is right in front of you,” he says, gesturing to the tattered book on the table before him. “As Ominis said, most Parselmouths are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, and whether it’s warranted or not, he’s a controversial figure.”

“Sure,” you agree. “But… does Ominis speak Parseltongue much? How would anyone even know?”

“I think most people just assume,” Sebastian replies with a shrug. “His brothers spoke it, and he’s told me that they speak it more regularly at his home. Many Gaunts have chosen to keep a snake rather than an owl or any sort of conventional animal.”

You nod slowly. “Have you heard him speak it before that night in the Scriptorium?”

“A handful of times,” he admits. “Sometimes he’ll slip up if he’s especially angry or frustrated. I’ve also heard him speaking it in his sleep on occasion.”

Eventually, the conversation shifts to the spellbook and you once again forget about Ominis’ rare skill – this time for nearly two years.

By your seventh year, Ominis has learned about your ancient magic abilities, and your friendship has grown from one of rueful kinship to genuine affection. Nevertheless, he still seems to keep so much of himself guarded, even as you’ve shared so many of your worries and insecurities as you’ve grown into your role as the only living Keeper of your ability.

(It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen achingly in love with him along the way.)

These days you spend most nights studying with him and Sebastian. Usually, you’re eager to soak up the years of knowledge they’d accrued before you’d started school at Hogwarts, but tonight you find yourself distracted.

“Are you listening to me?” Ominis suddenly snaps, and you glance up from where you’d been reading the same paragraph over and over.

Ominis looks annoyed, and to his point, you certainly hadn’t been listening. You’ve both been sprawled out on the floor of the Undercroft for hours now revising for Potions. Sebastian had called it a night shortly before dinner, leaving the two of you to continue pouring over theory textbooks in preparation for Professor Sharp’s famously lethal end-of-term exams.

“Y-yes, sorry,” you stutter. “What were you saying?”

In your defense, winter has arrived in the Highlands and the stone floor of Ominis’ hideaway has cooled you to the bone. The weak flame flickering beneath your shared cauldron isn’t enough to pull you out of your daydreams about a nice warm bed, some cozy blankets, and perhaps someone to share it with…

(Someone who can whisper secret serpentine words against your skin, chasing your goosebumps lower and lower beneath the covers…)

“Again?” Ominis asks, more disappointed than angry this time. “You can’t focus on my words for a full minute before slipping into some reverie?”

Merlin, if only he knew that focusing on his words wasn’t the problem at all.

“I’m sorry, Ominis,” you whine. “But it’s getting late, it’s freezing down here, and we missed dinner…”

“You said you’d help me,” he reminds you, perhaps a bit vulnerably. “The exam is tomorrow afternoon, and my Draught of Living Death is still curdling.”

You groan pathetically and rub your eyes. “Ominis, you’re a dear friend, and I simply adore you, but you’re bloody rubbish at Potions. Perhaps we should take a break for the night.”

Ominis’ jaw clenches while he stirs his (admittedly lumpy-looking) brew.

“Ominis?” you ask hesitantly. “...I apologize if I was harsh, but–”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “Just… stop talking. Clearly, you’re no longer interested in helping me, so you might as well go back to your common room for the night.”

Sighing, you shift closer to where he sits cross-legged on the stone floor and gently rest a hand on top of his knee. You know how challenging Potions has been for him, especially lately; N.E.W.T.-level draughts are challenging enough when one can confirm that the brew they’ve already spent hours preparing has progressed to the appropriate color.

“I think you need to take a break,” you say softly. “You’re making yourself too frustrated, Ominis.”

You watch as a bit of the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders seeps away as his head hangs gently. As his fingers nervously twitch in his lap, he takes a slow, measured breath and lets his eyes fall closed.

« I need to do this correctly, even just once, » he says. « Then I’ll be able to sleep. »

You suspect he doesn’t even realize he hadn’t spoken English until you sharply pull your hand back with a gasp.

“Wh-what… did I, um,” he stammers. “I didn’t… say that the proper way, did I?”

“Well, er – you hissed it,” you say carefully. “That… that was Parseltongue again, wasn’t it?”

Ominis carefully nods. Your stomach clenches when you notice him hunch in on himself as if he’s ashamed of what he’s done.

“It’s okay!” you quickly tell him. “I, um. I haven’t heard you speak Parseltongue since fifth year, and – and I don’t understand it, obviously, b-but it’s alright if you want to use it.”

You trail off lamely and try to rest your hand on his knee once more, but he nudges it away.

“I apologize,” he says hollowly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you watch him duck his face and turn away from you – not so that he can’t see you, mind, but that you won’t see him.

“Omins,” you sigh. “Please, you – you haven’t scared me, I promise you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he counters in a deceptively soft voice. “I can tell, you know. Your heart is racing, you’ve gone warm all over… You want to run away. It’s only natural, when one is frightened. I would know.”

You swallow audibly and once more attempt to rest your hand on his thigh, and this time he allows you.

“I’m not scared,” you insist, and as true as your words are, you almost wish you were lying to him.

You think it’s probably less shameful than the truth, which is that Ominis’ brief Parseltongue outburst has your heart racing with desire, not fear.

“Then why…?” he asks before eventually trailing off.

“I find it fascinating,” you tell him softly as you trace your fingertips along the seam of his trousers. “It’s… compelling, Ominis. Perhaps a bit enticing.”

“Enticing?” he repeats softly. “You feel, er.. compelled by my Parseltongue?”

You shyly shrug before remembering a non-verbal answer won’t suffice. “I suppose I do.”

The both of you are silent for several long moments. The only sound that can be heard in the Undercroft is Ominis’ sickly bubbling potion, until he finally asks you, “May I kiss you?”

You hesitate for merely a beat, just to let your mind catch up, but before you can answer Ominis repeats himself in Parseltongue: « May I kiss you? »

This time, your non-verbal answer of crawling astride his lap and kissing him yourself is entirely sufficient.

Ominis moans into your mouth while you grab the lapels of his uniform shirt, brazenly rocking against his lap like one of those wanton witches in Sebastian’s rather foul romance novels. His hands settle on your hips and he helps you grind down onto him until you can feel for yourself where he’s grown hard.

“Wh-what are we doing?” he asks against your lips.

He doesn’t sound scandalized, or even hesitant – rather, he sounds like he’s asking how much you’re going to let him get away with.

“Whatever we want,” you answer him breathlessly. “Ominis, I – I’ve wanted this for so long, we’ll do whatever you want.”

« Whatever I want? » he hisses, and you shiver in his lap. « What I want is to get you on your back for me, sweet girl. »

Carefully, Ominis tips you from his lap back onto the freezing tile, but just as quickly he gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re sprawled out on some abandoned Potions notes. Your skirt falls halfway up your legs and Ominis traces his fingertips along your skin until he finds the hem.

« Spread your legs for me, my love, » he hisses, sliding his hands up the insides of your thighs. « Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you here? »

His unseeing eyes flutter closed as his fingertips brush against the hem of your undergarments. You’re wet – you have been since he’d first slipped into those low, hissing tones of his – but now he knows it. He can feel it.

“Gods,” he groans. “You.. you really like to hear my Parseltongue this much?”

“It’s your voice,” you whimper, grinding your hips toward his teasing fingertips. “You… you sound different.”

“Tell me,” he demands. “How do I sound?”

Realizing that he likely sounds the same to his own ears even when speaking the ancient snake language, you bite your lip and force yourself to focus.

“You – you sound powerful,” you admit. “Like your voice is stronger, or… it’s like I can hear it in my whole body, not just my ears.”

Ominis wordlessly rewards you by firmly dragging his thumb down the length of your core through your panties. You melt into his touch; your skin feels as if it’s on fire now, and the very same icy stone floors you’d complained about not long ago now feel like a soothing balm against your skin.

“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious.

“N-no,” you whine.

« I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »

You whimper and arch your back. “I m-might not understand Parseltongue, but I can tell when you’re teasing me.”

“Darling, I’ve barely begun to tease you,” he murmurs before leaning down and licking up the length of your body from your navel to the dip between your collarbones.

“Please, Ominis,” you beg.

« You’ve been distracting me all evening, » he continues. « I fully intend to have just as much fun playing with you, since you seem to enjoy driving me mad. »

While he kisses what’s sure to be an impressive bruise onto the side of your neck, Ominis slides your panties down your legs.

“I want you inside me,” you confess.

« You want the first time I take you to be on this dirty stone floor? » he asks lazily. « Are you that desperate to be fucked, sweetheart, or have I made you wait too long and driven you mad? »

You groan frustratedly as he starts to kiss his way down your body, pointedly ignoring your canting hips. “Ominis, I’m begging, please say you’ll touch me.”

Ominis presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your hipbone. « Don’t fret, my love. How could I refuse such a tempting offer from such a beautiful, albeit slightly mad woman? »

By the time he traces the tip of his tongue along the crease of your hip, you realize where he’s headed. An irreverent array of babble spills from your lips while you attempt to grind impossibly closer to his face, but he places his hands over your hips and keeps you firmly planted against the stone floor before he presses his tongue flat against your cunt.

If he were still speaking Parseltongue into your skin, you’d never know. Any words of praise or kindly teasing that spilled from his lips were drowned out by a litany of curses you’d never utter in front of a man like Ominis in any other setting.

“That’s it, my lovely girl,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh. « Your cunt is so wet for my tongue, and it’s even sweeter than you are. »

He’s switching between English and Parseltongue so easily that you can’t be sure he’s even doing it on purpose anymore, and you couldn’t possibly say which you prefer more. Being fully aware of every filthy word he says is a dream, but is it as delicious as not knowing what he’s saying as he utters secret confessions inches from your skin?

You don’t bother spending much time considering it while you lie back and let him lick you open. All you can think about is his tongue on your skin, pushing inside you, savoring every inch of your body while he learns you by touch and by taste.

That’s what he’s doing, after all – learning you. He’ll get you off, of course he will, but that’s not why he’s bent over between your legs with your calves thrown over his shoulder.

“Ominis,” you groan. “I need you in me, I… I need you.”

He presses a deceptively sweet kiss to your sensitive clit before he asks, “Is that so? I thought you liked my Tongue, and now it’s not enough for you?”

“Don’t tease me,” you plead. “I know you want me just as badly.”

While Ominis had been coming up for air between burying his face between his thighs, you’d been able to see just how affected he is – you aren’t alone in your eagerness, you can be sure of it.

« Right as always, you are, » he hisses. « Perhaps you don’t understand my words, but you can sense my desire, can’t you? »

He grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh to punctuate his words and you whine pathetically.

“Take me, take me, take me,” you chant while he sits back to undo his trousers and push them down just enough to free himself. You realize he intends to stay fully clothed while he takes you apart, and you shiver against the cold floor.

When he finally sinks inside, you fall helplessly silent.

Every ounce of focus you have is spent on relaxing your body, opening up for him as he buries himself inside you. He’s almost ruthless in his endeavor to fully seat himself in you despite his intimidating length. Save a few breathless not-quite-whines, you’re quiet beneath him.

« Nothing to say, darling? » he hisses at first, and then in a softer voice he asks, “Are you alright? Am I hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s good,” you moan. “Please… keep talking to me.”

“You want me to talk to you, hm?” he asks, grinding in until the flat part of his pelvis brushes against yours. « Do you need a distraction? You’re taking me so well, my angel. »

He starts to fuck you in earnest with a slow, careful rhythm to keep your bare skin from catching along the worn stones beneath your back. As he thrusts inside you, he keeps talking in that low, hissing tone. Soon you realize even his words match the rhythm of his body, rising and falling with his motions.

« Feels so good… Waited so long… I can’t stop, please don’t ask me to stop… »

His back feels feverishly warm to the touch while you drag your hands down from his shoulder blades to the back of his hips. In the years since you’d first heard the snakeline sound of Parseltongue fall from his lips, he’s grown taller and his musculature has changed into that of a lithe, well-built man. Now the strength of that voice suits the body from which it emanates, and both have combined to keep you firmly pinned to the floor beneath their might.

You cling to him as he fucks you harder. You feel so close already, tumbling toward the edge of pleasure beneath him as his serpentine words glide across your skin.

When you come around him, you hear him whisper your name in Parseltongue – it’s the same, you think, but softer, and sweeter.

« When I come inside you, » he hisses just above a whisper. « I want you to keep every last drop inside for me. Will you, my darling? »

“Ominis!” you wail.

“Fuck – fuck,” he gasps, and seconds later you feel the mess he's made inside you threaten to spill out with every slow, greedy thrust in his post-orgasmic haze.

“N-no, stop,” you whimper, and he immediately goes still.

“What is it?” he asks, his English crisp and clear.

You shift shyly beneath him and whisper, “Don’t… don’t keep going. I want to keep it inside for now, and – and when you move, it, um…”

Merlin, you don’t have the words to say you’re just as greedy as he is – you want to stay full of him, just as he’d asked in that ancient, indecipherable tongue.

Ominis presses soothing kisses to your face while you wrap your legs around his waist to hold him in place. His lips brush across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the curve of your jaw.

“Of course, darling,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here.”

Then, with his lips pressed to yours, he hisses, « I’ll stay right here as long as you like. »

[choccy-milky]

MC doesn't mind eating things that have been on the floor 💖😋

[rhewart]

Poor ominis doesn’t know to close his eyes when kissing