[Tags: Biker!König, Backpack!AfabReader, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, König is a certified munch, technically it's voyeurism.]
Your hands were gripping his waist, holding close to him as his backpack.
Cars blurred as König drove past them, speeding on the freeway, keeping his hand on your thigh. You knew it wasn't the right time, really you did, but fuck your brain wouldn't stop thinking about it. Wouldn't, *couldn't* stop thinking about him fucking you. You didn't care how, you just wanted his cock, his fingers, his mouth, *anything*.
Your hand slid down to his thigh, testing the waters, gauging his reaction. This was dangerous, you knew this. It was stupid, but fuck you wanted it. His head flicked over to you briefly before his attention was back on the road, and he took an exit. He slowed down the speed of the bike, abiding by the laws of the road, and still, your hand stayed there.
He continued down the road, taking the scenic route on your trip, his hand still gripping your thigh. You noticed there were less cars, and your confidence about your actions grew. Your hand slid over to the inside of his thigh, and he gripped yours in turn, as if warning you. His body was tense, agitated as he felt your hand wander.
His action only spurred you on, and you pressed into his back as your hand found his clothed cock. You could feel him, half-hard from your touches, and his hand cupped yours. He didn't know if he wanted to pull your hand away or press it harder into him.
With an irritated growl, he ripped your hand away, planting it up high on his chest. He sped up the bike, speeding down the road before finding a secluded space. Stopping and parking the bike, he got off as fast as he could and grabbed you, pressing you up against the bike. Helmet still on, gloves still on, his hands hurriedly ripped your pants zipper open.
He cursed as he fumbled first, in a hurry to get you naked, before he succeeded. His hand came to your core, running a gloved finger across the cloth of your panties.
“Soaked these.” He hummed, his voice low and muffled by the helmet. You shivered at his touch, a jolt of heat zipping up your spine.
He teased your cunt through the fabric, pressing and gliding his fingers before pulling his hand away, ripping his glove off. Hurriedly, he yanked down your panties, his bare fingers teasing and prodding your cunt.
“Couldn't keep your mind off of me, hmm? So needy, couldn't wait until we got home.”
He spoke, not expecting an answer from you as he pushed two of his fingers inside you, watching as you swallowed the digits. Slowly, he started to move, not willing to rush the process even if he was in a hurry. He kept a steady pace, his thumb pressing down on your clit before rubbing soft circles, adding into the stimulation.
Your gasps and moans only spurred him on, even if they were muffled by your own helmet. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but seeing him with his helmet on sent heat straight down to your core. You didn't need, or want, really, the man who fucked you at home. Right now, you wanted the man who would take whatever he wanted from you on his bike.
He pulled his fingers out of you after a few minutes, and you whined at the sudden loss. Before you knew it, he grabbed your waist and sat you ontop the seat, making you sit. He pulled your bottoms down further, bunching them around your knees. Ripping his helmet off and letting it fall to the grass, he dropped to his knees in front of you. He gripped your thighs, pressing a chaste kiss to the soft plushness there, before his tongue licked up a flat stripe across your folds.
He groaned at the taste, delving further into your cunt. He sucked and licked, trying to get every sweet drop of you. His mouth went around your clit, teeth scraping gently before his lips latched around the sensitive nub, starting to suck. He used his tongue, adding in more stimulation to bring you closer to the edge faster.
His hands kept your trembling thighs apart, forcing you to make room for him as he relentlessly ate you out. He was acting like a man starved, who had just been given a feast. His mouth went back to your folds, teasing and thrusting with his tongue. He brought his thumb to your clit once more, adding to your pleasure until he had you writhing. He kept going, and going until he had you shaking as your orgasm crashed into you.
He licked up your sweet finish, not caring if it was over stimulating to you in this moment. Pulling away, he licked his lips as he looked at you, making sure to get all of you off of his face.
thank you ao3 for being an archive and not an algorithm. thank you for letting me like things without consequences, thank you for being free with no ads, thank you for having lawyers to defend our freedom of speech. thank you tag wranglers. thank you to all authors and thank you ao3
synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!
tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.
“Crucio!”
The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.
Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.
When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.
When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.
You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.
“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.
Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“
“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.
You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.
“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.
Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.
You hoped it would never come down to using it though.
“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.
That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.
Breathe in, scream, breathe out.
Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.
They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.
Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.
“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”
“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.
The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.
When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.
Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.
Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.
His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.
Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.
‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.
“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.
His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.
“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.
“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.
After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.
Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.
“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.
“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.
Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.
“I’m so sorry.”
Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.
“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.
“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.
“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.
“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.
Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.
“What if I had lost you?”
The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.
Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.
Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.
This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.
You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”
Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.
You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.
“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.
A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.
The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.
You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.
“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.
“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.
You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.
there’s a new potent drug called “the bed” out on the streets. just one hit of the damn thing and you’re passed out cold, tucked in, multiple blankies, honking and shooing for hours. scary stuff.
I do not force xreaders to be blank slates. I do not leave hate comments if a xreader character behaves in a way I wouldn’t. I don’t demand part two’s. I let the writer take me on a journey and enjoy the fic as they intended as it is their labor of love. And if I don’t enjoy the fic? I EXIT THE FIC AND SAY NOTHING TO THE AUTHOR!!!
#a lot of pro-lifers fail to understand that late term abortions happens to women who wanted the child#but are forced to terminate the pregnancy because of issues like these or malformations or are life-threatening to the mother#and this behaviour is just causing pain on more pain#pro-life is just being sadistic and cruel 99% of the time for the sake of it
and she COULD have chosen death. She COULD have chosen not to abort. She COULD have let her baby die slowly and followed after. You could choose that, too, if you had the choice.
It’s not about forcing abortions on people. It’s not about making them do it. It’s about having a choice, and protecting that choice. So that people can choose.
I constantly think about this demise photo session I did a little while back. The baby wasn't going to live very long once she was born, and the parents decided they didn't want her to be in pain. They were distraught because their friends and family had told them they were giving up on their baby--about 24 weeks, iirc--making them feel worse when they were already devastated. Then the dad clarified that they didn't support abortion, especially not at 24, 25 weeks, it was awful, he didn't support it....while I stood there with his baby, in her little hat and a tiny white dress and next to a little angle statue they bought at the hospital gift shop for $13.99. That they had aborted.
I don't know how he justified the dissonance to himself. All I could tell him was that I'd never met any parents who had to terminate this late who didn't love their baby just as much as he did.
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