#dark!ominis

A = Aftercare

After turning you into an amorphous, trembling wreck, Dark!Ominis likes to stay snuggled until your last shudder, his head against your chest to listen to the rapid beating of your heart, which beats only for him.

Then he looks after your well-being, taking care of your basic needs such as the care of your injuries inherent in the intensity of your lovemaking (bruises, chafing, burns, etc.), hygiene, diet and hydration. During this process, he wraps you in a softness that is so comforting it surprises you the first time, forcing him to remind you that you belong to him and that Ominis Gaunt, however dark he may be, always takes care of what belongs to him! Don’t forget that!

B = Body part

Ominis loves your skin. Its texture, its warmth, its smell... It’s both the direct interface with your soul and the playground where he can exert his power over you. He alone has the privilege of setting it on fire, making it quiver, marking it, breathing it, tasting it, hurting it and even... repairing it, for the pleasure of starting all over again.

C = Cum

Cumming in you is an affirmation of his total domination. However, his refusal to perpetuate his cursed lineage and his categorical refusal to share you means he will only release himself inside you if you have effective contraception. If not, he will impose one on you, and you should know that he will not hesitate to rip out any life that dares to take root in you.

D = Dirty secret

Although not normally given to exhibitionism, Dark!Ominis sometimes imagines reaffirming his exclusive possession of your charms before the entire world, especially when he witnesses the desire you arouse in someone else. Rather than act out his fantasies in the public arena, he prefers to eliminate any rivalry by cunningly imposing unshakeable bonds, such as an inviolable oath or a blood pact. And all to seal your commitment to each other.

E = Experience

If not an experienced man, Dark!Ominis is an intuitive, well-informed and terribly possessive one whose sole aim is to make you inextricably dependent on him. So he’s fervently committed to outdoing the competition, leaving such an ardent mark that even in your fantasies, it’s impossible to imagine anyone else being able to satisfy you.

F = Favourite position

His favourite position is to have you, bound and helpless, your perfection stretched out suggestively, ready to be savoured, punished or screwed as you deserve. This way, he has full control over what he gives you.

He also likes to have you, standing, chained with your arms and legs spread wide, every inch of your body quivering, accessible and ready to suffer the slightest of his whims.

G = Goofy

Dominating you and turning your body into a ruin of total dependence on him is too serious a matter to laugh at.

H = Hair

Particularly self-aware, Dark!Ominis always makes sure his appearance is impeccable so as not to attract unwanted attention. So he takes care of his appearance and trims his modest body hair. He expects you to do the same, even shaving your private area himself, turning the moment into a unique experience that’s as sensual as it is dangerous - and, much to your chagrin, horribly arousing.

I = Intimacy

The few people he’s ever loved deeply have all left him in the end, and he lives in fear that you, the only person he wants by his side, will leave him too. That’s part of the reason Dark!Ominis seeks intense intimacy during your lovemaking. It strengthens your bond and therefore his hold over you, giving him feel security. It soothes his anxieties about losing you and makes the love you’re supposed to feel for him tangible.

J = Jack off

When he was a teenager, Dark!Ominis saw masturbation as a lack of control over his impulses and, because of his strict upbringing, he associated it with depravity. As a result, he strongly repressed his sexual needs rather than satisfying them.

Today, he’s perfectly comfortable with his sexuality and his darkest desires, but he doesn’t jerk off. Why should he when you’re a slave to his lust?

K = Kink

In his eyes, your total submission is embodied in the ecstasy of erotic asphyxiation.

Closing his hand around your offered throat, savouring your life pulsing under his fingers as he possesses you in the most absolute way, holding the ultimate power of having your existence at his mercy is the quintessence of his domination. He loves to deprive you of oxygen while the pleasure builds and contracts in your core like a spring, and then for you to take in all the air, he allows you to take in as the lust surges through your body, flooding every cell.

It may seem paradoxical, but Dark!Ominis has an enormous need for validation. Receiving your praise reinforces his sense of control and power over you. Also, your praise boosts his self-esteem, which has been damaged by his traumas, and reduces his anxiety about you leaving him.

Like Ominis, he also enjoys temperature play for the variety and sensory intensity.

Dark!Ominis excels at summoning snakes, albino cobras, using the Snake Summons Spell. Far from being mere creatures, his sinister and sensual hissing transforms these reptiles into instruments of immobilisation, torture or, to your shame, pleasure.

L = Location

As soon as you agree to submit to his authority, he orchestrates your immediate removal to his lair, a place where he exercises total control over his environment and over you. In his territory, you have no choice but to bend to his wishes.

In the event of merit or misconduct outside, he uses spells to ensure your privacy while he rewards you or inflicts the punishment you deserve.

As a game, he sometimes takes pleasure in tormenting you discreetly with his fingers or his wand at social events, thus asserting his dominance and constantly reminding you of who you belong to.

M = Motivation

You. No more, no less. When you provoke him, when your kindness envelops him like a soft, warm blanket, when he feels your gaze weighing on him, the smell of your arousal, the jealousy, the need for affection... You and more you...

N = No

Dark!Ominis can be manipulative to get what he wants from you, and he enjoys hurting you until it gives you pleasure. But, dark as he is, unforgivable curses are his red line. He knows that imperius and even cruciatus curse are sometimes used for erotic, but he categorically refuses.

Cuckolding: You belong to him and exclusivity is the pillar of your relationship. Under these conditions, sharing you with someone else makes no sense.

69: When he’s eating you, Ominis refuses to be distracted by anything, even if it’s your greedy mouth.

O = Oral

Destroying your throat with his cock is certainly the most delicious tihing ever. But he also likes to savour what is rightfully his.

P = Pace

He usually savours every moment, taking pleasure in correcting you, forcing your body into submission if you upset him. While his tempo flirts with his changing moods, one constant remains: the amplitude of his movements. He loves to feel every inch of his length opening up your walls, pulling out before thrusting back into you, hard, until his hips slam against yours again and again.

Q = Quickie

He prefers to take his time. However, to punish you and remind you he owns you, he may sometimes force your body to accommodate him to his selfish climax and leave you frustrated with the desire he’s aroused despite you.

R = Risk

Dark!Ominis experiments a lot at beginning your relationship in order to study your reactions, test your limits, and then push them back. But once he’s analysed you, he generally sticks to tried and tested practices.

S = Stamina

Dark!Ominis has patience and determination in spades. Whether he’s punishing you or rewarding you, he can deal with you for hours on end.

T = Toys

Like Ominis, Dark!Ominis disdains the use of toys. They hinder his connection to the nuances of the reactions he provokes (he's already deprived of his sight, he needs to perceive all your sensations). However, he revels in a luxuriant range of accessories and spells to intensify your sessions,

U = Unfair

Dark!Ominis can be profoundly unfair, revelling in the simple pleasure of hearing you beg and sob, pleading for deliverance.

One of his favourite torments is to explore and then relentlessly push back the limits of your pleasure, whether by forcing your orgasms or delaying them.

What’s more, if you’re in need of punishment, Dark!Ominis won’t hesitate to keep you on the edge, making you look forward to a more intense climax than ever, before destroying the orgasm you covet more than anything, thus reinforcing his dominance over you.

V = Volume

His acute self-awareness means that he muffles against you or in his hand the sounds that want to come out of his mouth. However, he demands that you release every cry, every groan, every gasp, and that your lips proclaim to the world who owns you.

W = Wild card

Dark!Ominis is possessive, manipulative, and dominant. However, if he’s in a familiar environment, he may accept a temporary reversal of roles, either to reward you or for strategic reasons.

X = X-ray

Dark!Ominis is tall, slim... His skin is as clear as porcelain, a constellation of moles stretching from his flank to his pubis. His nipples are the same pink as his lips. While not exceptional, Dark!Ominis is rather well equipped in length and girth, straight as an ‘I’.

Y = Yearning (libido)

Before he met you, he had no trouble controlling his libido. Everything’s different now. This upheaval upsets him far more than he’d like, which partly explains his enthusiasm for punishing you.

Z = Zzz

It has been more than a month since the truth behind your nagging doubts and restless nights finally revealed itself. Like any other woman with a keen intuition especially towards their grimy, unfaithful lovers, you were unfortunately right about your suspicions towards your boyfriend of almost a year, Sebastian Sallow.

To say that you did not have the slightest idea that he'd do such a thing was a complete lie — sure you weren't an academic wonder, but you certainly weren't that daft.

Alana Crowley — a fellow 6th year student from Slytherin. A friendly, seemingly unproblematic young lady at first, until she decided to latch her claws onto your boyfriend, that is. She had been awfully clingy around Sebastian for the past two months, and that foul git of a lover had no qualms with her blatant display of her not-so-subtle forms of affection. In fact, he seems to thrive in the attention, much to your dismay.

You've seen the looks he had given her. You've felt the all-familiar sparks between them during their seemingly harmless interactions and stares. As the woman whom he loved first, you were aware of Sebastian’s irresistible ways of communicating with his eyes: his longing stares, the way it twinkles when a mere glance was spared towards him, and how its warmth enraptured the entirety of your being the moment he gazes upon you with raw adoration. 

He was doing the same tactics he had used in capturing your poor little naïve heart during one summer getaway after your 5th year. He might as well just slap you on the face for using the same tricks on another woman — it all hurts the same either way. But the fact that he had been doing all these scandals right under your nose however? Absolutely unforgivable.

What you hadn't expected was how you ended up finding out: witnessing him doing the deed with his little side piece in the Restricted Section. It was the day when the both of you had planned a study session together for your NEWTS with Ominis Gaunt, his best friend. Sebastian was uncharacteristically late, thus you and Ominis went looking for him, and unfortunately ended up stumbling upon the scene.

“Wait! Hngh–! What will you do if your girlfriend finds out— haaaah! A-about this?”

“She won't. She doesn’t even suspect a thing. Everything’s under control, lo— oh fuck!”

Those were the exact words both you and Ominis had heard as they engaged in their explicitly raunchy little act while you pathetically watched behind the bookshelves. Betrayal was a brutal weight, and it had clasped itself around your ankle within that moment, submerging you within the icy depths of bitter realization. 

You thought he’d be faithful to you like he had promised. Hell, the both of you went through that absolute shitstorm during your 5th year together. Surely that accounts for at least some form of loyalty and honesty about each other's feelings and intentions, right? But alas, he had broken that simple unspoken rule, and your trust towards him was no more.

While you were right to trust him with your secret regarding your unusual magical prowess, you've made a fatal mistake of entrusting your heart to his bloodied hands. Yet despite the gravity of the situation, no tears, hysterics, or even any form of hints were shown of how utterly devastated you truly were.

There was no way in hell that you, (Y/F/N), the famed wielder of ancient magic, would crumble over a mere cheating bastard who couldn’t keep his own filthy little flobberworm in his pants.

Perhaps Sebastian didn’t know you that well after all, because if he did, he wouldn't have dared to incur your anger the second time around. It was fair to say that you’d let him have a taste of his own ignorance and foolishness, and you weren't afraid of forgoing the brakes and letting your unbridled rage hit him like a Graphorn on a wild rampage.

Thus, here you were, currently standing in front of the potions station within the Room of Requirement. You’ve been keeping a watchful eye over the bubbling concoction that you had been secretly brewing for nearly a month.

Three measures of boomslang skin… One measure of bicorn horn… High temperature for twenty seconds… 

Upon stirring the thick, mud-like mixture, you quickly set your stirring utensil aside, letting the potion brew within the cauldron. There were two remaining pieces left in completing the little set-up that you've constructed out of your own pettiness, which consisted of this particular potion and a willing volunteer. 

For the most part, the former was complete. But the latter? That was an entirely different problem on its own, but you had your ways.

An echoing creak resounded throughout the magical space as the doors of the Room of Requirement swung open, revealing your fellow 6th year Slytherin friend with slicked back blonde hair, holding up his wand which was blinking red at the tip. The opal-eyed male sauntered towards you carefully, avoiding any possible objects he might collide against.

“Glad you made it, Ominis,” you welcomed. You gently grabbed his arm as you guided him towards the nearby chaise lounge. He sat comfortably at the rather cushy seat, a smile present on his face.

“I came here as soon as I got your owl, and I apologize for the delay too. Sebastian's been quite slippery as of late,” he sighed. You plopped down beside the male while a floating tea set poured you both a cup of tea, to which Ominis accepted with utmost gratitude.

“Not surprised,” you nonchalantly drawled as you savored your Earl Grey tea. “He doesn't loiter around his usual spots as of late. I wonder why.”

The pure nonchalance of your sarcasm caused a chuckle to arise from him before partaking in his own beverage. Your eyes trained towards his unseeing ones that seemed to have this knowing glimmer. With the countless vexations that both you and Sebastian had brought upon him during your 5th year, it was now Ominis' second nature to detect your devious little plans from a mile away, ready to reel you in whenever you got too far.

Which brings you to the oh-so-burning question that was living rent-free within your mind: why is he, out of all people, helping you?

Setting his teacup aside to the nearby side table, he reached for the inner pocket of his coat, grabbing a vial containing several strands of dark brown hair. 

“Managed to nick it off him this morning before he woke up. Thankfully he slept like a log,” he hummed. You grinned at him, levitating the vial to the nearby cabinet beside the potions station. Ominis leaned back against the backrest of the lounge with his legs in a figure four lock.

“Also, I believe we have pressing matters to discuss, (Y/N)?” his posh-toned query cuts through the momentary silence. “Surely you didn't invite me all the way to the Room of Requirement just to deliver several strands of hair.”

“Perceptive as always,” you smiled mirthlessly, eyes and tone getting slightly darker as your teacup floated off to the nearby table. “You’re right. We need to talk.”

“...Go on.”

“I’ll be frank with you. I’m not quite sure as to why you’d even agree to this little request of mine in the first place,” you admitted. “So kindly enlighten me, Ominis. You're far from the type who would engage in petty little acts of vengeance. Why exactly are you helping me?”

Ominis bit his lip, silently cursing within his head as he racked through his mind for a valid excuse. While he couldn't blame you for your cautiousness given that Sebastian himself was his closest friend, this was a topic that he had desperately avoided out of fear of rejection and for the sake of preserving his friendship with his oldest friend. That’s right — he was in love with you, and has always been eversince you’ve deemed yourself worthy of his trust.  

You’ve always had him wrapped around your pretty little finger even before he became aware of the butterflies. He loved you enough to forgo his own wants and needs of having you; to keep you close yet far enough so that he'd never be able to claim you for himself out of the bare minimum respect towards you and his best friend. He settled for your presence, pining hopelessly for the real thing, and he wasn't about to let his demons run rampant and ruin everything no matter how strong his urges were.

Or so he thought.

“A mere extension of my own good will towards a dear friend. Nothing more,” he answered stiffly with a trace of longingness evident within his misty orbs. This minute detail, however, doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp, calculating eyes. 

“Whether Sebastian's my best friend or not, infidelity is deplorable. Whatever acts of vengeance you have in mind is both warranted and well-deserved,” he added firmly.

You hummed in response, seemingly satisfied yet not entirely convinced with the purity of his intentions. Your eyes gazed upon him coyly, your lips curling upwards.

“Perhaps. But that's not your only reason now, is it?”

Ominis froze as you chuckled knowingly, an underlying dark tone present within your seemingly innocent display of amusement. His exhalation was slow, feeling your presence come nearer towards him. Much to his surprise, you pushed his leg that rested atop the other, lodging your knees in between his lower limbs. Dainty hands rested themselves gingerly upon his shoulders, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

“Surely you have your own motives, Ominis. You know what I’m brewing, yet here you are, giving into my little whims…” you trailed off with a hint of smugness in your whisper. His heart hammered at the featherlight touch that trailed itself along his prominent jaw.

“Now, let me word my question differently this time. What exactly do you hope to get from all of this?”

The sudden calloused allure of your tone caused the blonde-haired lad's breath to hitch. He gulped, breathing slowly and deeply to calm the raging tempo within his chest. His lips remained pursed — this was obviously not a good time for a romantic confession, and silence was the best option if he wished to keep his pesky little feelings under wraps. 

The madness within him was less noble with its intentions, however. It was a perfect opportunity to whisk you away at your most vulnerable emotional state — to steal you from Sebastian after that unsavory stunt that he had pulled. He’d do anything to have you. Anything. But alas, the demon itself was constrained by the chains of his strong morals, never to see the light of day.

Unfortunately, you were a lot more quick-witted than he thought, capable of putting two and two together: the way he’d comply to all your requests, how he instantly comes to your rescue, his willingness to put up with this ridiculous plan, the rosy hue that was slowly creeping up his pale complexion — all of it finally made sense.

“You like me, don't you?” 

His silence was more than enough, and the frown that was once on your pretty face morphed into a satisfied smirk. You leaned back, letting your eyes feast on his flustered state. A devious improvised plan formulated itself within your head and a sultry giggle escaped your lips. 

His thin lips were soon parted by your thumb. The said digit invaded his cavern, to which he welcomed by lightly grazing his tongue against your skin. He yelped as you gripped his chin harshly with your thumb hooked within his mouth, forcing him to look up while you gazed down upon his face with cold (E/C) eyes.

“Well?” you teasingly whispered, the pad of your thumb smearing his own saliva onto his lips as you await his answer. “Do you?”

“... Yes… Yes, I do,” he rasps, his morals finally consumed by the wildfire of his own desires.

“Good.”

And just like that, he fell right into your trap.

You gently lowered yourself onto Ominis’ lap, straddling him while your lips claimed his into a searing kiss. The opal-eyed man softly whined, dragging his palms along your thinly-clothed thighs before resting his hands on your derriere. A delightful purr erupted from your throat before biting on his lip as he snuck his fingertips under the thin layer of your knickers, giving the soft flesh a firm squeeze.

Feeling your lungs burn for air, the both of you parted, gasping and heaving. Your (E/C) orbs were hazy, clouded with both carnal desire and smugness. The way your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend's best friend looked so helplessly eager to give his entirety to you gave you a dizzying rush of prideful feminine arrogance.  

You sat upright while his hands drifted to your waist with evident impatience. Your clothed slit was now aligned right onto the stiff tent on his trousers. A breathy, euphoric moan escaped his lips, throwing back his head slightly as he was reduced into a shuddering mess. God, you were so warm — to think that he was feeling it through layers of clothing was downright maddening. The throbbing ache within his trousers was growing unbearable, and he wanted nothing but to relieve himself from this sinful agony. 

He has waited for so long. He has fantasized about you during his lonely nights, spread out and his for the taking — without Sebastian in the equation. He'd love nothing more than for you to strip him bare and do as you please with his body. The mere notion was enough for his stiff erection to twitch within its confines, leaking droplets of liquid desire.

Your lips curled into a gleefully sinister smirk. It was akin to witnessing a valuable gift unwrap itself; a revelation of how atrociously needy Ominis Gaunt gets once the correct buttons were pushed. 

“I think it's only fair if I give you a little taste of what you want, no?” you chuckled. A quiver raked through his lithe frame upon feeling the thin skin of your lips tracing itself along his prominent jawline. 

“Ah…!” he gasps with unbridled delight at the delicious suction against the delicate skin of his neck. Merlin, he never expected you to be this bold. A giggle erupted from your cherry red lips, drinking in the scrumptious sight of his flustered state. 

Oh, you were going to have fun with him for sure. 

He felt his legs part as you slid in between them, metal faintly clinking as deft fingers began to unbuckle his belt. His heart pounded against his chest, taking a gulp to soothe his now parched throat. His shaky fingers wandered to his vest, unbuttoning the garment while you palmed his stiff appendage through his underwear, kissing the weeping tip through the cotton thin fabric. 

His pleasure-induced whimpers successfully stroked your ego, and you allowed yourself to indulge deeper within this abysmal erotomania. Your hands creeped up along your own legs as you stood up, brunching your skirt all the way up until you reached your own lacy undergarments. 

While stripping the flimsy article off your being, you relished in the sight of the opal-eyed male loosening his own necktie and shortly unbuttoning his white shirt. You bit your lip upon witnessing his bareness: his soft, alabaster skin teasingly peeking through the undone clothing. 

God, he's beautiful.

"Hmm. Keep those on," you sighed breathily before he could take the articles of clothing off his frame. Ominis smirked lightly at this, putting his hands up as he laid back on the backrest of the chaise lounge. You knelt before him once more, slipping both his trousers and undergarments off him at the same time. He hissed at the sudden cold air nipping against his heated skin while you purred in delight, nuzzling your face filthily against the thick, leaky appendage.

"Please, (Y/N)..." he whimpered as you traced the tip of your tongue lightly against a thick vein at the underside of his shaft, clear globs of precum leaking from the tip at your teasing ministrations. The slick muscle eventually wandered towards his blunt tip, and a hiss of unadulterated pleasure escaped his bitten red lips as his fingers ran through your (H/C) locks; all in hopes of grounding himself from this euphoric high.

"Yes... That's it...! Darling— Oh, fuck...!" he groaned through gritted teeth as his fleshy head was enveloped within the warmth of your mouth. The pleasant vibrations from your moan further stimulates his already sensitive, twitchy organ. The flat of your tongue moved at every suction, resulting in every possible form of salacious sound being torn from his mouth with little to no mercy. 

He writhed at all the sensations that engulfed his senses; his pale, veiny fingers intertwined with strands of your (H/C) hair while his other hand gripped the armrest of his seat. Fire scorched him from within his loins while his toes curled, his brain in a state of mush and primal frenzy.  

Your own slender fingers wandered towards your own weeping hole, running the pads of your fingertips along your own heated flesh. Your mind was beginning to blank out as you began to take in his increasingly heady scent, audibly gurgling as he pushed your head deeper to accommodate his entire length.

He gasped, heaving a lungful of air as the blunt tip mercilessly hit the back of your throat. All you could do was to acquiesce to his desires as he brutally bobbed your head up and down his stiff erection. Your scalped burned delightfully at his iron grip on your hair, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. 

“I’m close… So fucking close…!” he groaned. His pace quickened, bucking his hips up this time, your throat instinctively tightening up at the repetitive intrusion. The sound of gurgles and squelches turned increasingly audible as he bucked his hips up wildly with his mouth hung slightly ajar.

A salty taste soon engulfed your senses, spurts of his hot seed flooding your abused mouth. He let out a shuddering groan at the suction as he was milked dry by your mouth. You pulled your head away with a pop before swallowing his essence, licking the sides of your lips to clean up any remaining traces.

Before he could even come to his senses, he felt your lips on his once more, instantly snaking your tongue into his hot cavern. He whines, tasting himself whilst running his slick appendage against yours. His head was still spinning from his release, his sightless eyes in a daze as he inhaled through his nose, taking in your addictive scent as much as he could. As soon as your lips unlatched itself from his, he let out a soft, needy whine, to which you responded with a giggle.

“Lay down,” you instructed softly, and he complied, letting you hover over his willing body. 

Tracing your fingertips along the center of his frame, you pushed the layers of clothing aside, revealing the expanse of his smooth pale skin — he was truly a work of art, rivaling that of marble statues. He hissed as your leaking hole descended dangerously close to his shaft, which was pulsating with anticipation as it felt the warm droplets of your essence drip upon it. 

Without a warning, you pressed your soaked core directly against his member. As soon as you began rocking your hips, Ominis absolutely lost the remaining traces of his sanity, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped before gasping for air. Your warm slick coated his now throbbing member, and the intimately lewd sensation effectively fried the remainder of his rationality. A loud groan rumbled from his chest upon placing your hole against the tip, moving your hips in a circular motion. 

Fuck, he was so close to entering you.

He wants to be inside you. No, he needs to be inside you right now.

“Ah-ah-ah,” you teased disapprovingly as Ominis tried to slide his member within your aching core. You pressed down harder against his twitching shaft, earning a pleasured whimper from him in response. 

“I didn't say we could go all the way, love,” you grinned, a hint of malicious amusement present within your eyes. “But with how desperately needy you are right now, perhaps you should… Convince me.”

He groaned impatiently, the pads of his fingertips sinking onto your fleshy thighs. He shifted under your weight pathetically, his nether regions craving for the deliciously warm friction against your slicked lower lips — the addictive sensation that you had cruelly deprived him from all of a sudden. You remained still, letting out a mirthless chuckle.

Dainty fingers wrapped around his neck, followed by a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the side of his lips. Shifting yourself slightly, you reached for his stiff erection, guiding the tip to your drenched hole. The fleshy tip merely prodded your entrance, never going past the head, much to Ominis' sheer agony. 

“F-fuck… (Y/N), please!”

Oh, you loved the sound of that: the way he begs and grovels like an animal in heat just to engulf himself within your warmth — truly a boost to your already inflated ego.

“Please, what?” 

“Please let me have you… Fuck, I need you so badly right now...”

His eyes widened at the painfully slow, inching intrusion; his eyes glassy with wanton tears. There was a raging urge within him to just snap his hips up, but he dared not to cross you — he was taking no risk in ruining everything, not when he's so close to obtaining his filthiest desire of finally becoming one with you. With one hand, you removed your necktie, your eyes never leaving his vulnerable, quivering form.

“How badly do you need it, love?” you asked mockingly while he let out a shuddering gasp; your warm juices slowly trickled down his shaft, pooling at its base.

“So fucking bad… I'll do anything. Please…” he whimpered.

A smug, menacing grin broke out of your lips.

“... Anything?” you repeated.

“Anything. Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Good boy.”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs the moment you descended on him, your walls fluttering around his thick, twitchy appendage. You bit your lip as you began unbuttoning your shirt while gyrating your hips, much to his sinful delight. Blood was rushing to your head, trapping you within a dizzying frenzy of lust and desire, only to be fueled further when his hands gripped your bare waist, guiding you along his shaft.

You felt so full, and he was prodding and brushing at all the right places, making your eyes roll back at every slam of your hips upon his. Your juices were dripping everywhere, and the sounds of filthy squelches and wet slaps of skin filled the room along with the shaky, breathless little moans that escaped your sweet lips. Ominis panted, snapping his hips up occasionally in hopes of drawing out a more feral response from you, to which he was successful. 

You were a wreck — disheveled, legs quivering, covered in a sheen of sweat, inner thighs drenched solely with your own juices, and a drunken grin on your face while you rubbed your sensitive little pearl.

“Fuck— R-right there!” you cried out as he brushed against a spongy spot that made your thighs shake, your domineering façade slowly disintegrating. Every thrust from him had you choking on air with how rough he slams his hips, reducing you into nothing but a moaning mess.

This was genuinely one of the few instances where Ominis is upset about his lack of sight. All he ever wanted was to see you unravel before him — to look into his eyes pleadingly, writhe in pleasure as he brought waves upon waves of pleasure on your submissively sensitive body, and to present yourself to him in every debauched position possible before he fucks you into oblivion. 

Oh, the extent he would go to just to even catch a glimpse of you, especially when you're bare — he'd worship the ground you walked on, and treat you like you were the most prized person within the entire world with no questions asked.

He'd do anything for you. Anything.

“Fuck, I'm close…!” you mewled, feeling your walls slightly spasming around his cock, causing the male to hiss at the velvety grip of your core. Your thighs began to tremble, and you heaved as you began to move faster, chasing your high. 

“Cum for me, darling. Oh fuck, you're amazing,” he pants, his mind in a drunken haze.

He pulled you into his arms, thrusting his hips wildly while breathing in your heady scent as if it's the last time he'll ever inhale a lungful of air. An airy, shuddering moan tickled his ear, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Your walls had finally convulsed around him, and you felt spurts of his warm cum flood your long awaiting pussy. 

A sharp exhale escaped his dried mouth as you shakily let your worn-out body lay on top of him. He was still inside you, but the growing soreness in your thighs was preventing you from moving. Your heart was still hammering in your chest while your limbs felt like jelly, the exhaustion evident within your body. Ominis hadn't moved a single muscle either, his mind wandering into places, deep in thought. 

As soon as you attempted to get off him, however, his arm snaked around your waist, holding you in place. You glanced at him with tired, confused eyes.

“...Stay,” he whispers, his embrace tightening around you as if you'll disappear from his grasp anytime. The underlying neediness within his tone caused you to give into his harmless request, sinking back into the warmth of his embrace.

“...Okay.”

You nuzzled in his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat with a sigh of comfort. A serene smile was present on your face as you relaxed, slowly getting lulled into a well-deserved nap in the comfort of his arms.

Willing volunteer? Check.

The echoes of the courtroom had followed him for weeks afterward, a symphony of guilt and regret. The sharp, authoritative voice of the Chief Warlock. The hushed voices of the onlookers. The low, choked sob that escaped Sebastian’s lips when the verdict was read. It all blurred together into an unrelenting hum that Ominis could never silence.

But the boy who walked out of that courtroom was not Ominis Azrael Gaunt anymore.

The man called Ominis Azrael Gaunt was a creature bound by duty and blood, forged in the crucible of his family’s darkness. He was a master of the dark arts, a Gaunt in every sense of the word. The laughter of his youth, the warmth of friendship, the fleeting dream of escape; all had been snuffed out like a candle caught in the wind.

This man sat in the shadowed halls of the Gaunt Manor, his pale fingers tracing the smooth divots and ridges on his wand. The manor was quiet as death, save for the faint crackle of a low fire that brought no warmth. The cold, unyielding marble beneath his boots reflected the man he had become. Hard, cold, and unfeeling.

And yet, even without sight, the world around him was never truly dark. His father’s magic burned like a deep, sickening green, pulsing faintly in the edges of his awareness, a constant, oppressive presence that marked every room.

“Ominis!” That voice, sharp and demanding, cut through the suffocating silence. “Come.”

Ominis stood as his father’s magic flared brighter, its oppressive heat pulsing in the stillness. The quiet shuffle of his boots barely broke the silence as his hand instinctively found the smooth, ornate serpent carved into the head of his cane. Guided by the faint ripples of magic that marked his father’s path, he moved forward.

He did not need sight to know the way; the corridors of the manor were etched into his mind with the clarity of years spent treading their lifeless expanse. Each step was a descent, spiraling deeper into the suffocating abyss of his family’s expectations.

The heavy oak doors of the ritual chamber groaned open as he approached. The air here was thick, brimming with the metallic scent of blood and the sickly sweetness of burning herbs. He felt the heat of the flames licking at his skin before he heard the crackle of the fire that illuminated the room in shifting shadows he could never see.

“Your brother failed me again,” his father began, his tone sharp and unforgiving. Ominis felt the heat of his gaze, sharp and cutting. “And so, as always, I turn to you.”

Ominis did not flinch at the words. He stood still, his head slightly bowed, an unfeeling statue in the presence of the man who had shaped him into this hollowed creature. A faint, sticky warmth brushed against his fingers as a vial was pressed into his hand. The faint pulse of green within it vibrated against his fingers. A fragment of his father’s magic, raw and unrestrained. His blood.

“You know the incantation,” his father said coldly. “Do it.”

The vial’s weight was insignificant, yet in his hand, it felt impossibly heavy. The liquid inside sloshed faintly with the movement, its scent filling his nose. A coppery, vile promise of power. He hesitated, his mind flickering with distant memories of another life. Laughter. A voice full of mischief. The echo of Sebastian’s footsteps as they raced down the cobblestones at Hogwarts.

But it was only a flicker. A whisper drowned in the thunderous silence that now consumed him.

“Ominis,” his father snapped, his voice like shattered glass. “Do not disappoint me.”

He snuffed out the memory.

The vial was warm in his hand, pulsing faintly as if alive. Ominis felt the tendrils of his father’s magic unfurling, brushing against his own aura like the touch of a blade. He walked to the altar, each step guided by the vibration of ancient sigils carved into the stone floor.

The altar itself radiated an eerie, sickly green light, faint and shifting, alive with whispers of long-forgotten incantations. His fingers traced its cold surface, feeling the grooves where blood had run for millennia. He uncorked the vial and poured its contents onto the altar. The thick, viscous liquid spread in uneven lines, pooling in the carved runes that began to glow with hungry light.

The green aura of his father flared in response, its tendrils growing sharper, faster. They reached for him, curling around his own faint, pale magic, constricting and coiling as he began to chant.

The words came from deep within his chest, a low, guttural incantation, older than time itself. The air around him grew heavy, each sibilant sound pushing it tighter and tighter against his skin. He could feel the vibrations in the magic itself, the way his father’s aura pulsed eagerly, its tendrils slithering closer, wrapping around him like a serpent tightening its hold.

He did not stumble, he did not falter. His voice was steady, practiced and devoid of emotions, as the words spilt out of him like venom.

The pain came slowly, at first. Sharp pricks along his limbs where the tendrils coiled too tightly, seeping into his veins. But Ominis did not stop. He could not. The incantation grew louder, the chamber trembling as his father’s magic consumed the ritual entirely. The oppressive green bled into every corner of the room, casting jagged shadows that even Ominis could sense, a chaotic storm of power that left no room for anything else.

When the final word left his lips, the green snapped tight around him. He gasped, his knees smashing to the floor as the magic consumed him from within. For a moment, he thought it would devour him completely. But then the tendrils released, slithering back into the altar with a satisfied hiss, leaving only silence in their wake.

A hand gripped his shoulder, firm, cold, and possessive. “Well done,” his father said, his tone quivering with power. “Perhaps you are not as useless as your brother after all.”

The hand lingered for a moment too long, squeezing hard enough to bruise, before it was gone. The absence left a faint, throbbing ache, but Ominis did not react. He did not speak. He did not move as his father swept out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall like a death knell.

He was alone again, standing in the thick silence of the ritual chamber. The air was still warm, the scent of blood and ash clinging to his skin like a shroud. He ran his fingers over the altar once more, feeling the grooves of the sigils beneath his touch.

They were sharp, cutting into his skin, but he did not care. The pain was a faint whisper compared to the void inside him, a void that had grown wider and deeper with every passing year.

He had bled for his family, killed for them, become the creature they wanted him to be. And yet, standing there in the suffocating silence of the chamber, he could not escape the truth.

When he thinks this monster has taken advantage of his absence to corrupt your virtue and debase your heart, which had opened up so beautifully for him, Ominis sees red, if a blind man may use the expression! You gave Sebastian access to your body and accepted his to fill the void left by Ominis and to better seduce him later, when in fact that devious snake was taking advantage of your vulnerability and distress by using his cock to conquer your heart.

That bastard has tried to rob him of the only witch capable of filling the gaping hole he has dug in his chest! It’s unforgivable!