Summary: Y/n comes from the woodlands, her questions and behaviour is quite shocking for the conservative world Hogwarts resides in.
A/n: for stories sake, you are a Slytherin. Also the picture is a vibe of the stories aesthetic and not necessarily how your depicted in the story.
Also I wrote this 25 April 2023- there is no continuation. I was going to make this into a love triangle with a choose your ending option- but obviously I lost motivation- so now it’s more tongue in cheek kinda silliness
European standards be damned, Y/n didn't even want to transfer to Hogwarts in the first place. Why should she be 'more considerate' of her appearance anyway, the concept is so utterly foreign to her.
"Seriously Y/n, this isn't our home lands, your attire is not appropriate here." Your sister berates pushing a package of clothes into your hands. "I insist you wear this at once." Irritation curds your blood.
"Well then... perhaps you should've just left me in Fairestdale then!" You clasp your hands refusing the paper wrapped clothes. Oh how you yearned for the wild flower fields your friends would roam bear footed. "If we were their right now, I could be learning scorching runes with Master Howl right now." You huffed looking out the carriage window's view of the grand Hogwarts castle.
"I took this teaching position so that you had a greater opportunity to hone your magical abilities. Fairestdale is a lovely home, Master Howl and Miss Sophie are fantastic magic teachers but Hogwarts is a great place to learn more of the wizarding world beyond the woodlands." Your sister lectured with her rehearsed lines. “Besides- it’s good for a young witch to be exposed to more than 3 people around her age.”
"Be as it may - I will not conform to such strange requirements." You persisted. Your sisters veins pop from her forehead, finding your tantrum cumbersome.
"You cannot run barefoot around here Y/n and you most certainly not allowed to walk around in silk robes hanging off you like scarfs sown together." Your sister says raising her voice. Shrinking back into your seat tears prick at your eyes. “Girls here don’t dress like this.”
"I hate this place, it brings out the prudish nature of people which spurs on judgement! It’s everything mother and father were against. You've never yelled at me before." You say quietly with a wobbling lip. Your sister heaves a heavy sigh pinching her nose. She moves next to you wrapping her arms around your shoulders and pulls you into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry I yelled... I don't mean to shame you Y/n ... it’s just - this place is not the same as Fairestdale. People do not understand our culture and community." Your sister pleads. "I fear the scrutiny you will face." She says gently, running a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I heed your concerns sis but it’s not my responsibility to ensure others like me. I am myself and I refuse to change to make others comfortable." Your sister relents in hesitation.
You step through the dining hall, all eyes dragging across your foreign appearance. Unusual jewellery hangs plentiful off your figure. The loose silk fabric of your clothes hangs delicately wrapping it’s self ever so softly around your form. Hair adorned by wildflowers.
Everything about your appearance is a reflection of a muggle fairy tale, the absurdity in your folklore appearance was alluring to say the least.
The sorting hat adorns your head, making the difficult decision on where to place you.
"Ahhh, much older than the others. A difficult one indeed. Yearning for knowledge much like a Ravenclaw. Gentle natured like a true Hufflepuff. Longing for constant adventure like a Gryffindor." The hat hums undecidedly. "Despite your good nature pointing you to other houses... there is something auspicious that lurks below the surface that only Slytherin can help you with. Best be - Slytherin!"
Embarking nervously to your newly assigned house table. You walk awkwardly, towards the familiar blonde boy sitting with the emerald green crowd.
"Oh wow - you are truely a sight to behold." The dark haired boy announced, mouth left gaped. The blonde haired gentleman greeted you immediately.
"I must apologise for Sebastian’s most unusual greeting. Y/n it's good to meet you again my dear friend. Welcome to Slytherin." Your cheeks glow in a warm colour, elated to see your beloved friend Ominis. He pats the empty space between them, taking the seat between the two boys, you pull him in for a tight hug only to let go and turn your attention to Sebastian.
"My name is Y/n, its a pleasure to meet you Sebastian - I’ve heard many stories." You say proceeding to hug him.
"…You're not from around here are you?" Sebastian half announces.
"Oh? How did you know?" You ask in surprised. Ominis clears his throat.
"It's not typical to hug someone you've just met." He announces, you look off thoughtfully.
"So... when do you start hugging people?" You ask inquisitively.
"It depends, parents hug their children. Sometimes married couples. It's a pretty ... intimate act. It’s different here." Ominis answers awkwardly, unsure on how to answer such common knowledge.
You lean your head to one side in confusion. "So you people don't hug when you sleep? You just lay down like a log? That's weird." You announce, leaving Sebastian stupefied.
"Everyone here sleeps by themselves. In a shared room." Sebastian confirms as horror washes over you.
"I have to sleep in bed by myself?!" Dismay shrouds your being as you lean over in surprise. “This land is truely strange.”
"Seriously where did you come from?" Sebastian laughs unhumorously. Ominis reaches behind your back and pinches his companion.
"My dear Y/n, it’s not like the woodlands. Everyone here is very private in their daily routines. That includes sleeping and bathing…” Ominis mutters the last words. You stare down Ominis.
“Bathing by myself? But how would I throughly wash my own hair? Well I suppose if others won’t bathe with me, I’ll just bathe with you Ominis. Like we did in Fairestdale.” Sebastian flashes a scandalise glance to his best mate.
“We aren’t children anymore- it wouldn’t be appropriate.” He cuts turning is attention to his plate in embarrassment which only makes you scoff.
“I’d hardly thought that we were children three months ago.” The brunette sticks his hand up.
“I’ll join you.” Sebastian received another pinch along his arm.
“He will not be joining you- you will just have to do these things alone.” The angry blonde declares. “Try your best to acclimate to our customs and please be careful, there are people here who will attempt to take advantage of your naivety here. If you have questions, please come to me first okay?” You nod in agreement.
Your first night at Hogwarts was truely the worst night. Since you had arrived in the the last year, all Slytherin girls had been assigned their roommates. Leaving you with a room all to yourself. Whilst having a room of one’s own is typically a dream for many, this was down right hell for you. The evening weather continued to drop below a comfortable temperature, nobody there to huddle against for comfort. The eerie quite somehow echoed loudly in your ears.
The long night passed ever so slowly, leaving you begging for the morning to arrive in order to end this lonely hell. You had given up on sleeping all together. Standing up from your cold bed you tip toe though the halls, right into Ominis supposed dorm room.
Quietly you squint at the figures laying under the covers, trying to not wake any of the other boys sharing the room. Finally a whisper captures your attention.
“Psst, Y/n? Is that you?” Sebastians quite voice draws you next to his bed, you look over your shoulders to make sure you are not disturbing the other boys in the room.
“I never had to sleep by myself. I’m so exhausted but I can’t sleep. I’m just going to crawl in bed with Ominis- he can yell at my weakness in the morning.” You lean closer into Sebastian’s ear. “Which bed is he in?”
“He is to the left of me- but Y/n, do not disturb Ominis. You can just sleep in my bed.” Sebastian offers, lifting the blankets off his form as an invitation for yourself to sink into. You join under the toasty sheets without a second thought, snuggling up to the friendly man.
Drawing the curtains closed, you both hold each other as you finally drift off to sleep.
—————
Your woken up the a startle when you see Ominis looming over you with fingers grazing your arm.
“I thought I told you to come see me first.” Ominis drawls making your stomach sink as if you were in trouble.
“Well i was going too, but I found Sebastian first and he suggested not to disturb you-“
Summary: Y/n is being courted by a muggle. Sebastian admits his woes to Master Gaunt who heavily encourages Sebastian to meddle in Y/n’s affaires.
Warning: Depressing Ending! Angst! Tbh I wrote this on 23 May 2023 and couldn’t think of a way to tie the couple back together- so it just stayed with an angsty ending until I could come up with an idea… which never came…
“Good - it’s important for pure blood lines to continue studying the lost arts…” Ominis’s father announces placing his morning news paper down. The wave of his dark oak wand summoning two crystal glasses. The house elf scrambling with a bottle of whiskey, pouring two beetle berry whiskey’s.
The elf places each glass in their hands as Sebastian looks off towards to door way, hoping for his best mate to rescue him from the worlds driest conversation.
“And what about this L/n girl Ominis has been talking about?” Master Gaunt questions vaguely.
“Y/n?” Sebastian looks back to the master of the house, the feeling of unease settles in Sebastian’s stomach.
“Y/n … Ominis tells me you wish to be with her… why haven’t you secured her hand? Our community is just going to continue to grow smaller if you younger lot don’t help nourish our bloodlines.” An awkward silence fills the room.
“You may not have heard, but her affections lay elsewhere-" Gaunts fists hits the hardwood table, a loud thump silencing Sebastian.
"There is absolutely nothing extraordinary about this muggle born other than his ability to taint a perfectly fine blood-line, are you not a wizard? Why are you not using magic at this very moment to take back what is rightfully yours?" Sebastian swallows the lump forming in his throat.
"I would like nothing more than the be with Y/n, but it wouldn't be right... Y/n would not forgive me, she has ways in finding the truth. Besides, I could not afford to break her heart at the sake of satisfying my own." Sebastian is cut off once again by a disgruntled grate escaping Gaunt.
"Heed my words with great caution. If you do not try to win her heart, she will be taken by one who is quite unworthy."
Those words plagued his very thoughts. Even though Y/n is courting with a muggle, Sebastian was full-heartedly convinced she would eventually see him as a love interest, it was just a matter of time.
Yet as time goes on, she was still as attached to the muggle.
The more Sebastian thought of it, he wondered why you would even consider him in the first place? The muggle was everything Sebastian could be, a loving husband, a dedicated father, he could provide you with a home, ensure your happiness.
Sebastian had nothing new to offer, he would and could do everything the muggle offered. It hardly seemed fair. It’s not his fault he didn’t admit his feelings for you in time. He thought you would end up as his, so he didn’t rush the slow burn.
Regardless, the muggle seemed hardly qualified to hold your heart. He is after all- muggle born. He couldn’t possibly be capable of protecting you from the magical world if the occasion arises.
If a dragon were to appear what would the muggle do? Offer himself as food whilst you run? No this wouldn’t do.
It’s for these very hypothetical reasons Sebastian had decided that Y/n’s significant other will not be any use to her. It would be better for everyone if he were to just go away.
Sebastian will just have to create an environment where Y/n will have to pick between the two. He’ll just have to ensure she will have no choice but to pick him.
“Sebastian, I’m so glad to see you.” You say pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s been far too long, I’ve missed you dearly.”
He had just about melted at your sweet words. How he has yearned for such loving words. But now is not the time to get caught up in such frivolity. Guiding to the park bench Sebastian angles himself towards you.
“Y/n I have something to tell you and it’s difficult for me to say…” You lean toward him with a concern look etching into your face, a hand is placed onto his thigh. He gently guides your hand off his thigh and into his own palm, intent on keeping this exchange honest. “I am in love with you Y/n L/n, and I understand that you cannot return my affections. I only tell you this so I can move on.” He feels her small hand stiffen and clench at his palm as his confession tumbled from him.
“Sebastian I-“ he shakes his head pulling away from her grasp.
“Please do not say it. I cannot bear to hear your words of rejection. Just know that I love you, and I have been in love with you for years now. I just cannot stand to see you with someone so unworthy of your affections.” He locks onto the girls eyes filled with pools of sorrow which tug at his heart strings to see such earnest rejection without her needing to say another word. “I cannot see you anymore.”
“What?!” You reach for him as he pulls away, dodging your grasp. This was wrong, Sebastian has never once dodged your touch, if anything he always made excuses to ensure your warmth was always near.
“Seeing you in the arms of another man feels my heart with a thousand daggers. I cannot stand the sight, it’s far too painful. I am sorry Y/n, but our friendship ends here.” He didn’t dare spare a glance, fearing that he would crumble under your broken sight, he had a plan. Sebastian reminds himself to stick to his plan, you’ll soon be his own.
“Sebastian!” You call. He hears the crack of your voice as you sob for his departure. Whilst this fills him with sadness to hear your distress, it also fills him with a sickening amount of satisfaction to hear you so upset at his departure which etches a sick grin on his face.
This is good. He’s created distance between you two, making him ‘unavailable’ like a forbidden fruit you would often savour, no longer able to access.
“That soirée was so fun!” Poppy beamed as Imelda nods in agreement.
“Are you attending the next one?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. It’s a great achievement you know.”
Stunned silence falls upon your spirit hearing about parties you hadn’t attended, you hadn’t even heard they were being held.
“What soirée was this? I didn’t know there was one.” Imelda and Poppy glance at each other awkwardly as if remembering they were doing something they shouldn’t have.
“Oh Y/n… I had completely forgotten your situation.” Imelda says stiffly looking at Poppy for help.
“Well, Ominis recently hosted a soirée and since his best friend was attending naturally…” Shock.
Shock was all you felt.
It was seriously petty.
“Am I seriously not being invited to events because Sebastian doesn’t want to see me?” The two shrug uncomfortably looking off the the side.
You cannot believe this.
Being ignored.
Being outcasted.
“What a joke, surely I can attend the next one.” The two continue to look off sheepishly, wishing they hadn’t brought up the topic to begin with.
“Well Anne’s hosting the next one… so of course.”
“So of course I’m not allowed to come! What is this high school?! I’m being outcasted for not dating Sebastian. This is wholly unfair, why am I to be punished. It’s Sebastian who abandoned me! I’ve lost count at how many events I’ve been disinvited to, when will I be allowed to rejoin?”
“Do not fret, you can host your own party.” Poppy says reassuringly.
“But that’s not the point is it? I’m being ignored.” Imelda places a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“Listen Y/n, I know it’s stupid. But soon Sebastian will move on from the trivialities of it all and things can go back to the way things were.” You shrug feeling as though this drama would never come to an end.
“I just miss being with everyone, more than anything I miss my best friend.” You utter sadly.
A few months roll by and things in fact do not change.
You continue to be kept at a distance, if you were to join then Sebastian was always certainly not there. No one ever said anything, but it felt horribly awkward.
It was all just too much, you felt utterly ignored. You felt forgotten.
It wasn’t the case though, your friends Imelda and Poppy would often visit you at your home, but it wasn’t the same. Beyond that you missed Sebastian dearly despite the anxiety he was putting you in.
You felt an indescribable amount of anger towards Sebastian, announcing his affections abruptly, not allowing you to put in a single word. Perhaps if he shut his mouth he would’ve heard you say that you also loved him, and that you are with another man in hopes of overcoming what you thought was unrequited love. Oh how ironic it is, to be punished for not returning feelings when in actuality you do. But now it’s all different, now you have tremendous resentment toward Sebastian for behaving so childishly, for pushing you away and forcing you out of his life.
Sebastian- that prick, how have you ever loved him?
Even after acting like such a twat, why can’t you stop loving him.
A sense of resentment grew upon you when you were graced by the presence of your partner. You cared for him deeply, but if it weren’t for your relationship, you wouldn’t be experiencing this hardship, this never ending wave of loneliness. If you had just admitted the truth the Sebastian, then you both could’ve just been together.
But instead you hide your feelings.
Your muggle partner felt it too, the responsibility of your decaying personality. He loved you greatly, and it was for that very reason that he made the noble sacrifice.
He ended it.
It hurt deeply at the time, since he was all you had left other than Poppy and Imelda, but it really was all for the best. You would forever be grateful for the memories you had accrued from your time together. You did feel a sense of relief knowing now that you could return to your old life.
After parting ways with your ex, you make way for Feldcroft, determined to put an end to this silly drawn out drama.
It was through the window you saw Ominis and Sebastian sitting there, laughing together that you were flooded with ease. You bite back a laugh seeing Sebastian acting goofy. Merlin- you missed him so much. But sensibility came back to you like a punch to the gut when you heard Serena Gaunt call out.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Serena asked kindly, but you can see it in her stance that she is hesitant at your presence.
“Oh um - I was just hoping I could speak with Sebastian…” You were unsure of what you should say.
“Listen, it’s probably for the best if you two just part ways for good, it’s a lot of drama and frankly you are the cause of all of it. ” Once upon a time Feldcroft was your second home, now you felt like you were trespassing on private property. It’s a strange feeling, knowing your no longer welcomed.
You bite back the tears at the realisation that you would be causing problems by being there.
This wasn’t your place anymore.
You would only bother him.
“Your right, I’m sorry to bother you Anne, I’ll see you around okay?” You force a smile onto your face
You started to retreat away from Feldcroft, turning your back to your second home as if it was a final goodbye.
“Wait Y/n, you weren’t bothering it’s just-“ Anne sighs pinching the bridge to her nose.
You speed up your retreat, hoping that Anne didn’t hear your sobs escaping you. You didn’t have anyone you’d rather be consoled by than Sebastian, you wanted him desperately to be with you.
Now, you had no one.
You might as well just disappear and wallow in your sadness alone. You need not bother anyone.
————
“What do you mean she isn’t here anymore?” Sebastian questions confused at the sudden appearance of an angry Imelda gripping fist fulls of his shirt and a distraught Poppy who was unable to retain her panicked tears.
“You stupid man! Don’t act dumb with me! I know you Sebastian! I’m not blind the the psychological torment you put her through! Now she’s gone and no one knows where she is! And it’s all your fault! You took your manipulations too far!” She yells landing a firm punch to his jaw. Ominis grabs at Imelda and pulls her away thrashing.
“Don’t be stupid Imelda just calm down. Sebastian didn’t do anything!” Anne argues, upset with the whole situation. “Just start from the beginning, what happened.” Imelda continues to growl angrily in Ominis grip as Poppy pipes up between sobs.
“She ended things with that boy, he told us that she didn’t want to burden him, so she left for Feldcroft to seek a room until she sorted out other accomodations. Only she never made it here did she?” Poppy’s eyes well up again, terrified to hear the confirmation.
“So that’s why she was here.” Anne utters making all heads in the room turn to her.
“What do you mean - she was here.” Sebastian questions, eyes locking on to his dear sister with frustration.
“She was here a few days ago…” Anne sighs feeling stupid for not saying something sooner. “I told her you didn’t want to see her, and so she left.” Sebastian stumbles back as anxiety crippled his chest.
His plan was to create distance, isolate you so you would finally leave that dip of a muggle and come running back into his arms.
Guilt wraps around him as his skin prickles with anxiety.
Where on earth were you? It was unlike you to isolate yourself when you always come running to him. But that’s the thing isn’t it? Sebastian made sure you didn’t have him as an option, so instead of seeking comforts elsewhere, you had chosen to seek comforts nowhere.
Summary: Rosalie and Emmets daughter visits during college break.
“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”
“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.
“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.
“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.
“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.
“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.
You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.
“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.
“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.
“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.
“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.
“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.
“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”
“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.
“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.
“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”
“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.
“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.
“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.
Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.
“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.
It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.
But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.
Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.
But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.
Y/n, is Rosalie’s and Emmets grown-up daughter, and it’s time Rosalie finally accepts it.
Summary: Tired of waiting on meeting your soulmate. You use your witch powers to speed up the meeting.
The red string theory is an old Chinese theory where every person is born with an invisible red string tied to their pinky finger.
Over time the string will tighten making the journey to their soulmate more difficult, the string might get tangled and tied but never severed.
Once the string draws you both together, the red string will remain short, keeping you two together and never apart for long.
Patience was not a trait that you possessed.
Since honing your witchcraft as a teenager, your patience slowly dwindled, often opting for witchcraft to quickly resolve any obstacles in your way.
Your discipline to not use magic in your every waking moment became an extremely abstract concept. If there was one rule that you set yourself, it was to let your relationships grow and develop naturally without any magical intervention.
It would only make the adventure of life boring.
So it was then that your teenage self promised to not use magic to conjure your soulmate. It would only ruin the organic meet-cute you were destined to experience.
But your teen years have long since passed and now you sit in your cottage home as a grown adult, alone and yearning for a partner to share a life with, looking down at yet another wedding invitation. ‘Plus ones are welcomed’ the letter reads. Sighing to yourself, knowing you have no one.
It was that very moment you had forsaken your childish promise to not intervene with the natural order and just speed up the meeting already.
What’s the point in having magic if you don’t make use of it? If others could, they would too.
It’s not like you were going to use magic to manipulate your soulmate. You were just going to use magic to locate and meet your soulmate and woo them, so you can finally be together and live happily ever after.
It’s not technically cheating … right ?
Any hesitation was snuffed out when a notification rung out, your phone screen displaying pictures of a new engagement ring from another friend.
A stabbing reminder that seemingly everyone in the world had someone, and you yet remain lonesome.
Moral values be damned.
You tried doing it the right way, but your soulmate is taking his sweet ass time meeting you.
Since he took too long, you’re just going to have to take matters into your own hands.
Sitting in your safe space, you preformed a viel ceremony to enable you to visualise and see the red string tied around your pinky finger. Immediately, you see the taut red string pointing towards the west. Indicating that your soulmate is currently in a western direction.
“The worst part of having imprinted is having to convince them of the bond.” Paul states, taking a hulking bite from is plate, as the others murmur in agreement.
The roaring bondfire sizzle and crackles in the crisp night air as the Uley pack discuss the worst parts of imprinting as they feast on the evening’s barbecue.
“No the worst part of imprinting is meeting them young.” Quil argues as Jacob pats his back empathetically.
“No, the worst part has to be explaining that the supernatural is real.” Sam says, as the others murmur in agreement. “Burdening your imprint with a new and dangerous reality is heart breaking, but keeping them in the dark is a betrayal and a greater danger to their safety.”
“Please, at least all of you whiny babies have an imprint.” Leah broods.
Embry nods along in solidarity. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to any of that.” Embry agrees, stabbing his fork aimlessly at his plate. “But I agree with Leah, I’ll gladly do all of that if it means I finally get to meet my imprint.”
Paul snorts are Embry’s claim. “Sure kid, just wait and see. In fact, when you meet your imprint, and you have to convince and explain to her the bond and the supernatural, I’m gonna be sitting their and laughing my ass off.”
The window blows the tree branches unceremoniously, as if hearing Paul’s taunting challenge.
Seth stands from his comfy seat to point out a mysterious figure emerging from the tree line. “Uh, guys, who’s that?”
Your quick strides soon draw you near the group, your eyes locked onto Embry as he feels gravity moving as you become the centre of reality that holds him down and nothing else. You become his sole focus as the world fades away before he feels reality shift back to normal.
It didn’t take a single word for everyone to know the mysterious figure approaching their group was Embry’s imprint.
Paul begins to grin, his taunts playing out before his eyes.
You continue to stride silently past the others, eyes unmoving from Embry until you are just at an arms length.
“This may sound crazy, but you are my soulmate.” You utter, expecting shock, resistance, mockery or denial. But instead Embry smirks with an airy laugh.
“Funny. I was going to say the same to you.” He says, rocking on his feet excitedly. Glancing down with a cheeky grin to Paul whose mouth is left agape.
“Really? Just like that, you accept my outrageous claim?” You ask relieved but also sceptical.
Embry shrugs his shoulders. “It’s a wolf thing, you?”
“It’s a witch thing.” You begin to giggle at Embry’s widening eyes. “Come for a walk with me, we have much to discuss.” You grab his hand and begin to drag him away from the pack who remains in stunned silence.
“That’s so unfair.” Paul whines as the other grimace in the ease of Embry meeting and bypassing all of the difficult rites of imprinting.
Summary: An erotic short on Y/n and Ominis have found pleasing company with eachother. During the Gaunt soirée’s the two would always disappear into his room to read from his personal library.
Warning: smut, depictions of smut. Characters are adults.
It’s like a tradition at this point.
Every time a soirée is hosted at the Gaunt Manor; Ominis Gaunt and yourself would go upstairs to ‘trade literature’ only to get lost in the whirlwind of reading and not come down for hours, sometimes you would be stuck in the books right until the end of the party… or so your family thought.
Your parents believe you to be a shy sweet angel who’d rather seek refuge in the comfort of books, reading the night away.
Typically this would be unacceptable and typically your parents would force you to socialise, but this was THE Ominis Gaunt- the most eligible bachelor. They could only hope that your shared hobby would lead to romantic feelings being fostered in the privacy of the library.
Your family simply live in blissful ignorance.
Who would’ve thought their beloved daughter was capable of such sin?
Honestly it’s shocking to think parents are this clueless.
Whilst the Gaunt soirée continues on with ball room dancing, champagne saucers, and negotiations for pure blood pairings.
Ominis Gaunt and Y/n L/n stay hauled up in his room fulfilling the filthiest of fantasy’s. He pins you against the door, grinding into your lonesome hips as your mouths tangle and melt into each other.
You begin to tear open his trousers like a present on Christmas Day.
Too many nights you stuffed your fingers inside of yourself, desperately trying to replicate the feeling of Ominis pounding senselessly into you.
Finally you will have the relief of him inside of you.
Usually, Ominis would mock and tease your desperation and would commit himself to the worlds longest session of foreplay before even considering sheathing you onto his cock, however, tonight is different.
Ominis was equally as desperate to stuff himself into your gummy walls. He spent many nights pumping senselessly into his fist, searching ardently for that mind numbing release your pussy always draws from him effortlessly.
He moves to suck at that soft spot on your neck as his trousers drop to his ankles. You claw at your long skirt, pulling the fabric up around your waist.
Ominis holds his painful erection, pulling your leg around his waist to gain better access to the heaven he so desperately wants to plunge into.
Sliding his tip along your wet slick, he begins to sink his throbbing member into your yearning walls. Groaning low guttural moan into your ear.
He presses you harder into the door as he begins to pound you ruthlessly into the hard surface. Your gushing pussy wrapping tightly around him. His sticky breath in your ear causing your walls to flutter around his veiny cock.
“Ahh if you keep doing that I won’t last much longer~” Ominis threatens, as his hips continue to snap senselessly. “Always so wet for me- so desperate for me aren’t you?” Your eyes just roll back hearing his taunts whispered to you.
“You tease me but your the one thrusting desperately into me. I bet you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.” Ominis chocked on a moan.
Yes indeed.
It’s best to leave their darling girl alone.
Maybe the two might end up together as they read the night away.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader, implied Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger.
Timeline: Non-specified.
Summary: Ginny doesn’t find ginger men attractive, the same can’t be said for her friends.
Warnings: Mentions of implied sex, mainly just fluff and humour. Some original background characters have been created just for purposes of the story.
"I'm just saying, ginger men are literally the worst looking, I'd never chose one," Ginny says harshly, raising her hands in defeat at she makes her point.
"Gee thanks sis," Fred says, leaning forward to tap her on the back of the head, not to hurt her but just enough to ruffle her hair and frustrate her.
"Yeah, way to make a guy feel pretty," George mutters with the same playful tone as his brother, flicking out his long hair as if to push it sassily over his shoulder. Ginny simply roles her eyes at their behaviour, turning to Parvati who tries to argue the point.
"Yeah but Septimus Goshawk, he's ginger and he's fit!" Parvati says arguing the point, met with an enthusiastic nod from her sister. Fred and George sat back with smug looks on their face at the new information, shooting a 'told you' look towards Ginny.
"Or Rigby Tennerfink!" Padma piped up, mentioning the wizard singer, one of the infamous heartthrobs.
"Gross!" Ginny scrunched her face up, picturing the red haired singer serenading a crowd of adoring women. "The only man for me is Aegus Troy," she adds, a smile passing her lips as she daydreams about the blonde Irish Chaser.
"Ginny, you used to fancy Gilderoy Lockhart, you're hardly one to talk," Hermione laughs, earning a chuckle from the group.
"And you fancy Ron so you're entirely biased!" Ginny replies, laughing at Hermione who tries to protest but it's a hopeless endeavour. "I need someone who is completely neutral here and doesn't fancy one of my brothers"
"Have you seen Bill? That'll be hard to find!" Parvati says, earning a giggle from the girls in the group. Fred and George groan simultaneously in defeat at hearing their oldest brother's name brought up, once again being the target of girls affections.
"Aha! Y/n!"
You walk down the stairs from your dorm, throwing a cardigan over your shoulders as you walked, only to be greeted by the group in the common room who all look up at you expectedly as Ginny calls you over.
"You're unbiased," she begins to say, pausing briefly as you move to be beside the couch where George and Fred sat, perching on the arm of the sofa next to Fred.
"I don't know, dark magic isn't really my thing," you say sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brothers next to you.
"Not that! Are ginger men unattractive? I need someone unbiased, someone who hasn't shagged or wants to shag my brothers," she says, getting comically irate as she desperately tries to prove her point.
George suddenly snorts out a loud laugh that he desperately tries to cover with a fake cough, leading Ginny to shoot daggers at him and then you.
"You haven't!" She spits out, turning her head to shoot daggers at her brother. "George!"
"Course not!" He says trying to seem as honest as he can as he raises his hands in surrender.
"No way," you reply sincerely.
"I would never do that to you," George says in complete honesty, though his resolve is cracking quickly and you can hear a tone of humour in his voice, though it appears Ginny didn't pick up on it.
"Oh," Ginny says, realising her mistake and shooting an apologetic look at you and then George.
"Me however..." Fred says with a laugh, admitting everything, immediately making a blush form on your cheeks as you all laugh at Ginny's over the top gasp. She throws a cushion at Fred who laughs, grabbing it and throwing it onto his brother beside him. He then reaches up to grab you and slide you across into his lap as you squeal, feeling his cold hands wrapping around your waist as he holds you firmly on his lap, placing a kiss in your hair, finally able to in public now the secret was out.
"No way! Do I not have one friend that hasn't slept with my brothers?!"
"We haven't," Padma and Parvati say quickly and defensively in complete sync.
"Although if Bill offered..." Padma adds, causing another groan to fall from Fred and George. George dramatically groans and falls back to lean on you as Fred's head drops into your shoulder in disgust, causing you to laugh.
"Well at least I know who my true friends are," Ginny huffs, though her words hold no weight as she smiles sarcastically.
"Or future sister in laws," George quips, only to be smacked by another cushion, this time launched by Hermione.
When no laugh comes from Fred as expected, you turn to look at him questioningly only to be met with a small smile tugging at his lips. When he catches you looking, he offers a sort of one sided shrug, eyebrows raising with a wide smile, as if he completely agreed with George.
Y/n, who's extremely drunk: Harold, I have something to tell you but it's a secret okay!
Harry who is very sober: Y/n, I won't tell a soul.
~later on~
Harry: RON! RON! RON! Y/N HAS A CRUSH ON ONE OF YOUR BROTHERS!
Ron who is also very very drunk: BLOODY HELL! SERIOUSLY?!? ohhhh I wonder who it is... Percy? No he's a git...Charlie?! No, she doesn't really know him that well... BILL?!? Wait no, he's engaged... George? Wait or is it Fred? Wait which one of them is which....oh crap....*big gasp* WHAT IF ITS GINNY?! Wait no, she's my sis-
cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
male orc x fem reader
Word count: 9k
You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say.
Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him.
The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town.
So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing.
It didn’t. It just felt lonely.
As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth.
When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.
You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape.
You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright.
Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.
You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step.
It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now.
His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.
“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter.
He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.
“As you wish.”
Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere.
You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on.
You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder.
Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face.
You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand.
In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here.
Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest.
As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.
As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue.
And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.
You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”
You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.
You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went.
You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you.
The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you.
He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch.
“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud.
You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road.
“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”
“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.
Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”
“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”
He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”
You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”
You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily.
You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center.
He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty.
When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something.
He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when.
Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face.
As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken.
Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier.
But anger was good. At least anger felt productive.
You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was.
The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled.
“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice.
You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you.
His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again.
“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”
You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape.
The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible.
And then you were on the move.
You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you.
Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.
After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence.
“You’re slow.”
“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts.
“And who is to blame for that?”
You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”
“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt.
“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”
He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out.
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did.
Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes.
You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down.
It seemed you were wrong.
Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp.
Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots.
You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm.
You did not listen.
Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so.
As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you.
He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”
“What?”
“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”
“It’s a river.”
He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”
“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”
He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”
You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way.
You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses.
You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this.
You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed.
At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance.
You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”
“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”
He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”
“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”
He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts.
“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively.
Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”
And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water.
The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean.
You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water.
You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.
When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left.
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind?
No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you.
You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones.
As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found.
In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt.
Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know.
You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now.
They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly.
As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here.
But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down.
As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape.
You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off.
You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors.
As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting.
You were faster this way. That was what counted.
You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.
“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”
A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest.
Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now.
You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again.
Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet.
It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke.
“Do you have a name?”
“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers.
“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.
He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return.
His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying.
When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance.
The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off.
Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you.
He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”
“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”
He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”
“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”
“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”
So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat.
He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far.
He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn.
You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.
If you were saved.
You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls.
Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke.
As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”
You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first.
“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”
You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now.
“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears.
You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you.
The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”
“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”
The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”
“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.
“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”
“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”
With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent.
After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat.
That was it. There was no one coming.
He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings.
“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”
“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”
“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?
Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”
Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”
“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”
You shrugged. “You could kill me.”
“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”
He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more.
It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt.
But even if you’d shut down, the world had not.
And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent.
He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore.
You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them?
As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?
You wanted answers.
You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath.
You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”
He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”
You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.
You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again.
“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”
“I will not fight for you,” you spat.
“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”
He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor.
You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.
You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar.
“What was that?”
“An attacker. A foolish little man.”
You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’
“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I told them.”
You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”
“Your people didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”
You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them.
You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running.
It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go.
Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace.
You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way.
You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity.
Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”
“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”
“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.
You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”
“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”
Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given.
“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked.
“It is not just. I will not kill you.”
“So what now?”
“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.
“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”
“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”
Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”
“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”
You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”
“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”
“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”
“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”
“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”
“You know that’d not what I mean.”
“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”
You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”
He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”
You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave.
This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run.
As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent.
You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before.
You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to.
As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway.
You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent.
He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”
He froze, his shoulders tensing.
You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”
“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head.
“How could you know?”
He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”
You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far.
“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”
He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent.
“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”
Oh.
The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes
You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.”
He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”
“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”
Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.”
“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”
His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”
He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”
You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way.
“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him.
“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.
“About my intention to court you.”
You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice.
“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”
You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”
He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.
“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor.
Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast.
And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether.
It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed.
He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining.
He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.
But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.
He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”
You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”
He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”
He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”
That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”
You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship.
While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you.
As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth.
He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds.
His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him.
His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you.
Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto.
His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did.
As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts.
You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent.
You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face.
You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming.
You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret.
“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”
He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”
He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.
It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal.
No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust.
And then, as it went further and further, it became too much,
You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm.
He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you.
You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you.
You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did.
He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”
You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily.
So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared.
“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him.
He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.
His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone.
As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight.
He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come.
His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him.
He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest.
You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you.
He didn’t seem to care at all.
“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears.
“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”
You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend.
But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it.
“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.
He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”
You snorted.
“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him.
“You reject that fool's advances.”
You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”
“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”
That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”
He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”
You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”
“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”
You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?”
You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.
He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.
Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”
“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”
He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”
You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
Summary: Not wishing to celebrate his birthday. Sebastians beloved girlfriend ignores his wishes, and hosts the best birthday lunch.
Masterlist
When asking your beloved boyfriend what he would want to do for his birthday, he said “nothing, it is just like any other day.”
Silly Sebastian. Surely he realises by now that you would never accept such an answer. So if your beloved was not going to tell you what he wanted, then you’ll just have to take matters in your own hands and ensure he has the best birthday.
You spent the entire night preparing the available ingredients for a feast and baking the scrumptious cake. When all the food preparations were done you hid the meal and retreated outside to wax everyone’s brooms at Feldcroft.
It was early the morning of Sebastian’s birthday, and your beloved lays fast asleep in his feather plush bed. Gently lifting the covers you finally rest your head after being awake the whole night.
You spent a good few hours holding Sebastian in your arms sleeping the exhaustion away before the Sun rays ascended your shared room. You feel Sebastian begin to stir under the morning light and decided the best way to wake up on your birthday is the be assaulted with love rather than morning light.
Peppering kisses all over his face, Sebastian hum an internal laughter, he lays unmoving with a soft smile creasing his lips, accepting this form of being awakened.
“Good morning.” He hums again, eyes remaining closed. He rolls to his side, and curls into you, lapping up your affections. You raise your hand the base of his scalp and run your nails from his neck, through the roots of his hair and back. Sebastian releases a satisfied shiver and a pleased groan with every stroke your nails make. “Feels nice keep doing that.” You continue to run gentle scratches as the birthday boy had requested.
That’s how most of the morning was spent, holding each other, loving each other, kissing each other. Eventually you both finally relented to escaping the bed when Anne knocked on the door to inform of the morning tea being ready.
Quickly washing up you both retreated to the living room where you joined Anne and Ominis to enjoy the worlds best cup of tea in the worlds best company.
Ominis and Sebastian spent their day at the qudditch fields playing with the local men whilst Anne and yourself apperated into town to grab some last minute additions to the birthday lunch. The crisp baguettes were gifted along with other delicious preserved spreads to add to the table.
Arriving home, you both made quick work to set up the dining table as Ominis and Sebastian were just about to open the door.
“What’s all this for?” Sebastian asks staring at the table covered in various delicious dishes with streamers and other decorations adorn the ceiling.
“It’s your birthday lunch silly.” Sebastian continues to eye the table filled with cold cut meats, cheeses, breads, spreads, picked vege, eggs, and freshly tossed salads.
“All this for me?” He stands in shocked silence. Ominis grabs at his shoulder.
“Happy birthday, may there be many more celebrations ahead.” Moving to their seats, the lot dig into their meals, stuffing themselves silly into a food coma.
They all lounge about in their exhaustion, reading in silence. Enjoying the company of many whilst entertaining themselves.
This was pleasant.
This was heaven.
There was no hassle, or enforcement to fill the silence.
Everyone was content.
Sebastian strayed his eyes from his thrilling read to lay his gaze upon his beloved girlfriend.
He didn’t want to partake in a celebration. Yet she pushed for one and made it the best birthday ever.
A/n: this concludes the series but I’m not opposed to revisiting this series with other dramas.
“You’re telling me you don’t know what your own wife ‘looks’ like?” Though you’re confused, it also makes logical sense that Ominis has no idea what you may look like, he’s never touched your face or more of your body beyond your back.
“Sebastian had described your features to me, I know what you’re suppose to look like.“ Standing from the bed you reach your arms around to undo your wedding dress, pulling at the strings to unfasten your corset and slide off the silky slip underneath.
A warm colour adorns his face as he hears the sifting fabrics, feeling shyness creep over him as though he shouldn’t be here. Ominis begins to shift up the bed, resting his back against the headboard as you begin to kneel back into the mattress next to him. You take his hands guiding it to gently place on your face.
“Well go on then.” His hands remain where you had placed them, fingers touching feather like along your cheeks. You allowed him a moment to gather himself as you watch his face turn beetroot red. “Don’t be shy, I’m your wife… you were going to touch me sooner or later.” You tease poking his cheek. He stifles a laugh as he pushes your finger away.
“Okay, alright… feels strange to finally do this.” He says nervously. He grazes his fingers across your face, working up the courage to move beyond this point he finally drags his fingers past your jaw and begins to feel around your neck, his feather like touches bring goosebumps to your skin.
His index drags along your collar bone until he continues to glide his fingers down your arms and giving your hands a light squeeze. His hands round back to your collar bone dragging his fingers continuously along the bone.
“Why have you stopped?” You were enjoying this. It all felt so intimate watching him slowly see you for the first time. “I’m okay Ominis, really, I promise you.” He stays silent and unmoving, finally working up the courage he drags his fingers down your chest and flattening his palms to press into your fleshy figure. You suck in a deep breath at the sensation which causes Ominis to rip his hands away from your body.
“What? What happened? Did I hurt you?” Panic rising in the poor soul. Though he was so nervous, you couldn’t help but giggle at his endearing worry.
“No need to panic... It was rather pleasant feeling your hands on me.” You say grabbing his hands and pressing them back into your chest. “This feels… nice.”
“Does it feel nice…. When I do that?” He asks slowly palming at your chest once again.
“Very nice.” His hands grope at your chest. Courage filling him quickly now that he has over come the scariest part. He continues to slide his hands down your waist and past your hips, he rounds his hands to your back, and grab your behind in handfuls. Pulling at your back knee, he repositions you over his lap.
“I had not realised how soft you were.” He breathes into your ear. Arousal fills your lower stomach hearing his voice coated in fervour. “Can I?” He asks, too embarrassed to say anything more.
“Yes.” Sliding your delicate hands you drag your palm across the bulge growing beneath you.
A sigh passing his lips, sliding his fingers between your legs, he runs his slender fingers down the folds feeling your essence coat his fingers, his middle finger effortlessly slipping into you. You shudder against him, being touched and filled with such gentle vigour.
His finger continues to slide in and out of you a soft moan slips from your glossy lips. Pulling his fingers away, Ominis grabs you, pushing you slowly back into the cushy mattress.
He slowly sinks between your legs, pressing soft kisses into your thighs, he presses a final kiss onto your folds before sinking his mouth onto your clit, licking long seductive movements against your slick. Your hands shot down grabbing fist fulls of his hair, arching your back off of the soft sheets. His tongue searches tirelessly for that special spot that will unravel you. Sliding his fingers against your slit he sinks them back into you. The stimulation was pushing you feverishly over the edge.
Whilst you typically wouldn’t complain about this, you were adamant on coming undone on Ominis member.
“Ah feels g’d, please I need you.” Urging for him, he doesn’t hesitate to heed your call. Hovering above you, he lines himself up. Leaning down, he presses his chest against your own, enjoying the feeling of your fleshy mounds pressing against his own chest. Connecting your mouth to his own, he slides his tongue into your mouth as he begins sinking his hips slowly into your own.
Harmonised moans melting together as you swallow each others moans. His hand slides down to grip your hip in a loving hold as the other cradles the back of your neck. His mouth detaches from your own, sinking his head between the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin.
Everything felt so sensual. His hold, the way his body slides against your own, the way his hips slam against you. Rocking your hips up to meet him, he groans at the pleasure of it all. “Please don’t, I won’t last long if you do that.” He urges as you continued to rut your hips into his own, drawing out your high.
“Feels- too good.” You utter. You wanted this, wanted more, you wanted to feel this forever. The pleasure was so intoxicating. How could sex feel this loving? It was erotic at how passionate it was.
He sucks your neck as you both continue to rock into eachother, feeling his shaft slide along your fluttering gummy walls. Your head presses back as a loud moan is forced from your throat. “Oh -Ominis!”
Pleasure washing over you in waves, your slick gushing as your silky walls clench and spasm around Ominis. “Fuckkkkkk.” He groans as his hips snap haphazardly against you, seed spilling into you.
He collapses on top of you enjoying the feeling of you drawing him in. Lips connecting, a wet and satisfying kiss.
Pulling away Ominis rolls onto his back heaving heavy breathes to fill his lungs with the air you had stolen. You squirm into his side seeking continuous comfort from your lucid activity.
“I want to do that again.” You smile, giggle at his satisfied expression.
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