…

so then you’re a few months into dating yuuji, he’s taken your virginity and indulged the kinks you thought you might have had before then… it never comes up. not to you at least — you catch whispers of those before you, sticking to the walls at parties it’s hard to miss what they say about the all star jock and your boyfriend … it makes your stomach turn. not because of jealousy, but because you want to know what it’s like.

yuuji would rather indulge your desires over his. spend hours between your legs running languid and lewd circles over your swollen clit — he makes out with your pussy as though he’s running out of time. trying to do everything he can before he’s caught in the act or your body gives way. from sucking slick from your folds, to drooling on your pussy lips, and fucking your quivering hole with his tongue like it’s his dick. he hardly wastes a second.

it’s not until he feels you push his head lower, stuttering broken letters that crumble like chalk into moans, that yuuji realises how much you want something else.

“you gotta use your words if you need somethin’, baby,” yuuji coos, words all wet as they fall from his gleaming, swollen lips. he blows cool air over your feverish mound, watching you clench around nothing. watching arousal run in pearlescent beads from your sex down between your cheeks. “what’s the matter, mama? talk to me.”

“want you to — oh!” you squeak at the cruel sensation of itadori’s teeth graze your beating clit.

he whispers hot into your pussy, folding your knees into your shoulders with one hand. “want me to what? speak up, pretty.”

“eat me lower…” you cry, feeling his smile spread into your sluice sloppy cunt. “e-eat my ass.”

“yeah? you’d let me?” a grin is painted onto yuuji’s lips, wicked but not cruel. just carefully crafted excitement that buzzes in the charged air like particles of kinetic energy fired up. you feel it trickle into your sex as the jock inhales you like you’re oxygen. spitting onto your mound and smearing it into your clit. “fuck, you’ve no idea how long i’ve been wanting to. needing to. kinda my thing and i love this pretty ass, baby. i really do. you’re heaven sent, made for me. my good girl wants me right here, yeah?” the drawl to his voice mimics a whine, needy and hungry like his own greed has pulled him open with nimble fingers that toy with his cracks.

his own creep lower, take the globes of your ass and knead them raw in an attempt to ground himself. pink hair sinks lower too, wisps of cherry blossom tickling the soiled backs of your thighs as though they are trying imitate the kiss of a spring breeze against the back of your neck. yuuji leaves a trail of open mouthed, treacly kisses from your cunt to your asshole, moaning desperately at your flavour as it rolls across the palette of his tongue.

“s-sensitive, yuu!” you squeak at the new pressure, clenching in two places around nothing — pushing out a fresh wave of violently hot slick.

he makes somewhat of a chuffing sound between sucking on your rim and coming up for air. he could die, drown himself in your flavour and never surface again simply because you feed him so well. douse the fires of his appetite with what your body has to offer. the hybrid noise comes out as wrecked in his throat. “i know, baby, i know. ‘m sorry, i know. just hold on a sec… trust me. s’gonna feel so good.”

to soothe you, make it easier for you to take him — yuuji tacks two fingers on your little pleasure bud that swells prominently between your puffy folds and attentively knocks it back and forth. the motion contrasts with the insistent, wet slurp of his tongue whilst he circles the rim of your ass — sucking your pussy juices into his mouth and spitting them back onto the second tight hole. frothy from his added spit.

“m so lucky, my good girl gets off on having ass played with. doesn’t she?” thick fingers replace his tongue at the puckered entrance, just one for now. he’d never want you to feel hurt by him. your back arches where you stretch over him, gripping every segment of his finger as it passes deeper into your warm walls. “fuck, you’re so right. look at you squirm, mama. you take it so well.”

meeting his brown eyes, calid and mirthy. yuuji latches back onto your pussy — entire mouth engulfing the length of your slit, pink muscle squirming against spoken walls to thrust, much like he would with his cock, and you ripple around him desperately every time. “taste so good, fuckin’ dripping for me.” he says, heady and hungry, chin wet and lips raw? moaning against you impatiently because all he wants is for you to cum.

when yuuji switches, tongue back in your ass and fingers rubbing your clit in misshapen circles — you squeal so high that the sound shoots down his spine and his eyes roll back into his skull, cock rubbing itself sore against the bed.

“can feel you… s’like you’re all the way in my throat. s-so deep, baby.” your voice is a tremor, barely holding itself together whilst your sanity comes apart. it’s true, his fingers scissor your clenched hole as if to make room for something thicker, girthier later on.

“hmm, you like that? me in your tight, warm little holes,” he’s got filth locked and loaded behind his teeth that graze your clit here and there — ecstasy striking you like a lightning bolt. yuuji’s pitch rises like hot air over cold, whiny and needy as though he’s seconds away from losing it all. “cum for me baby, i know you need it. let go for me baby. c’mon, come on. ohoho, shit. there it is…”

yuuji laughs brightly as you squirt — as if the very sight is the reason why the word joy holds its meaning. the corners of your world turn fuzzy with a black vignette as if a cloak of night has been pulled over your eyes. for a second, your presence in the world slips like it was always meant to be fleeting — you are sure that your heart pauses in place and your lungs exhale their last breath all while static jump-starts across your brain, cables crossing. electricity crackling. the jock licks you clean throughout, tongue curling to cover your clit, dipping lower to gather what juice runs between your ass cheeks. glistening, glazed — a sweet treat that has him bucking wildly into the bed until you’re both coated in your own mess.

“holy shit,” he licks his lips clean, wipes the remainder of your orgasm from the corners of his mouth with the back of hand in a manner that’s so sexy it gears you up for another turn. “you gotta let me do that more often. you cum so hard.”

you reach for him as he crawls up the bed to join you, the scent of yourself permeating his skin whilst he peppers you with affectionate kisses. “only if you fuck me there with your cock next time.” you beam, too buzzed to keep on being shy with your words.

yuuji’s eyes roll back into his skull and swears he might actually die.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—