Warning: Smut!! Minors DNI! (Not proofread since it's 3am)
Please bear with me since it's my first time writing smut so if you find any part cringe or have Criticism please feel free to leave them in comments.
Words: 2.4K (Porn with a little plot)
Summary: The reader is the little sister of Harry Potter and on Gryffindor Quidditch team. Her rivalry with Mattheo is fiery but what happens when the tension finally bursts?
Mattheo fucking Riddle. The bane of your existence.
He's cocky, he's arrogant and struts around like he owns the whole castle. You have hated him since you started at Hogwarts. He was in the same year as your brother, making him only an year older than you. Despite not having the same classes you two competed against each other in Quidditch.
You are currently sitting at the Gryffindor table with the golden trio having your breakfast. Tomorrow is the first game of the season against slytherin.
You take a bite of your toast listening to Harry and Ron going over the details of the match while Hermione is knitting socks for the house elves.
"Oi Potter!", Mattheo's voice called out from the slytherin table. Both you and Harry turned your heads at the sound.
" Oh not you golden boy, you keep chatting with your red headed boyfriend.", Mattheo smirked at your brother before looking at you.
"Ready to lose tomorrow princess?"
"In your dreams,Riddle."
"Only if you knew the dreams I had about you.", You just flipped him off in response not wanting to fight and land a detention just before the big game.
"The hell is his problem?", Ginny scowled as Mattheo walked away to his table.
" Just being a git as usual. He's so obsessed to Y/n you would think he fancies her.", Hermione chimed in.
You cringed at the thought but didn't say anything.
"Oh I would kill him before he tries anything with my sister.", Harry said glaring at the slytherin table.
'Yeah but keep your hands clean until tomorrow. We need you at the match and not in a cell in Azkaban.", You teased trying to ease out the situation.
----
The match day came, whole castle was buzzing with excitement for the first Quidditch Match at the season.
You walked out on the field to see the slytherin team warming up. Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, all familiar faces except one. Their star chaser was missing. You looked around but couldn't see Mattheo anywhere.
Did he get detention? As much as he loved starting fights he loved quidditch more. Why would he miss a game against Gryffindor by getting himself into trouble?
You mounted your broom as Madam Hooch blowed the whistle signalling the start of the game.
It was an easy win for Gryffindor with one of the slytherin's best player missing.
When youn were heading back to the dressing room you could hear the slytherin's grumbling under their breath.
"Why did Riddle have to beat Mclaggen just a day before the game?", Malfoy kicked at the grass.
" You know how he gets when he's angry. Besides I bet Mclaggen said something fucked up to get Mattheo that mad ."
"Nott's right. I don't think I have seen Mattheo that angry before. When me and Enzo tried to intervene, Mattheo didn't budge until he beat that guy into the floor.", Blaise said thoughtfully.
You eyebrows knitted together in realisation. "So I was right, he did end up in detention.", you wishpered to yourself.
----
" Damn girl! are you trying to get railed tonight? Because with that outfit you will.", Ginny smirked at you.
You looked yourself in the mirror fixing your hair, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your curves.
You smiled at her and teased back, "God forbid a girl gets dolled up for herself."
"I'm just saying y'know? Adrian Pucey's gonna fall to his knees the moment he sees you."
You cringed, "Really? Pucey? He's a Slytherin and also the Quidditch captain. Not to mention we beat their arse today, he's not gonna be happy about it."
Ginny wiggled her eyebrows, "Oh well that doesn't stop him from undressing you with his eyes. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like he would do anything to—"
"Oh my god Gin! Eww I'm not gonna hookup with a slytherin. Just because you and Parkinson are hooking up doesn't mean I wanna take part in this club.", You said wearing your earrings.
Ginny shrugged, " Well just so you know, If you ever wanna 'join' this club, me and Pansy are open to—"
You laughed at her teasing, "Will keep that mind thanks."
When you arrived at the party it was already in full force, music making the windows shake, people dancing, the smell of firewhisky floating through the air.
You and Ginny headed over to get yourself some drinks. "Cheers.", both of you said in unison said taking a shot.
After a few shots, Ginny was pulled away by Pansy into a corner while you were greeted with an already drunk Puecy.
" Congrats on the win Potter.", He said raising his glass at you.
"Thanks Pucey. Always a pleasure kicking Slytherin's ass.", You smiled at him.
He chuckled, leaning towards you, " This party is getting boring right? why don't you and me go—"
"Why don't you go and fuck yourself Adrian?", Mattheo's voice caused you to jolt. He was now standing behind you wearing a black shirt. You gulped at the sight, his rolled sleeves displayed the veins of his arm.
Pucey threw him a dirty look, " Rich coming from a person who got into a fight before an important game."
"Yeah? well if you can't win the match for your team without a single player that's on you *captain*.", Mattheo retorted back throwing daggers at him.
" Now get lost before you end up in the bed next to Mclaggen."
Pucey glared at him but left, not wanting to get involved in a fight he'll surely lose.
"Princess", Mattheo gave you a nod. " Celebrating the win I see? You guys were lucky I couldn't make it today."
"You're right, would have been more fun to beat those snakes when you were on the field. Could have watched your stupid face twist in anger.", You looked him in the eye to see something more than hate.
He ignored your comment, his eyes roaming over your body maping you out with his eyes. Gaze so intense you could swear he was able to see through your clothes, or maybe the alcohol is kicking in.
"Don't tell me you dolled up for that stupid Pucey.", he asked with a scoff.
" Maybe I did. If the rumors were half true I would best believe that I could have a good time with him.", You leaned against the table, taking a sip of your drink.
Mattheo scoffed again, "Good time? Oh princess he wouldn't even be able to make you cum."
You breath hitched, "You know a lot about his expertises don't you? Spend a little time on his bed—"
Mattheo pulled you closer by your waist, "Tsk tsk you've got a mouth on you haven't you?", he whispered in your ear.
" I wonder how I could use that mouth of yours in more useful ways."
"All talk and no action, Riddle."
His gripped tightened on your waist and he smirked at you.
"Oh I'll show you action.", with that he dragged you out of the party.
You followed him wordlessly feeling the heat pool between your legs.
You don't remember how much you walked but you were finally at the front of his dorm. Mattheo wasted no time on opening it, pushing you in then slamming it closed.
He pinned you against the door catching you lips in a searing kiss. The kiss was rough with teeth clattering and his tongue invading your mouth.
His hands travelled up from your waist to your breasts before gently cupping them which made you gasp into the kiss.
He pulled away breathing heavily, lips swollen, beads of sweat covering his forehead.
"Can I?", He played with the strap with your dress. You were a little surprised that he was asking for permission since he was acting like a starved man just a second ago.
You nodded in response and Mattheo didn't wait another second before getting you out of the dress and throwing it on the floor.
Mattheo kneeled in front of you, positing himself between your legs. He kissed your inner thighs, before softly kissing the clothed heat. You let out a soft gasp when his lips met your core.
Mattheo slowly pulled your panties aside and kissed your clit. He draged his tongue through your slit torturesly slow which made you whine.
He chucked against your core sending shivers up your body, "Now now darling, don't be impaitent yeah?"
Mattheo worked his tongue against your pussy while his thumb rubbed over your clit. You grinded your hips against his face to which he goarned.
"Impaitent little thing aren't you?"
Before you could say anything Mattheo inserted two fingers in your pussy without warning. The strech tore a moan out of you as you gripped his curls.
He started moving his two fingers while still eating you out like a starved man. You pulled on his, getting closer to edge.
"Fuck, you taste like heaven princess. Should have done his sooner.", he increased his pace, his fingers just hitting the right spot.
"Yeah? Feels good baby? Gonna cum on your rival's tongue?", Mattheo increased his pace
You leaned against the door fully, your knees giving up as you felt getting closer to edge. " Yes Yes! fuck Matt—"
Then he stopped. You whined in frustration," Why did you stop!?"
Mattheo smirked, your essence mixed with his saliva drooling down his chin, "What? you think I would just let you go that easily? Not happening princess "
Mattheo stood up now towering over you, "Get on the bed sweetheart."
You followed his instructions and sat in the bed while seeing him undo is belt.
You decided to mess with him a little, "You're probably small anyways." To your frustration, Mattheo didn't say anything just smirked and let his jeans fall to the ground.
You could see the outline of his dick from the boxers, already stained with precum.
Definitely not small.
When he removed his boxers, you gulped. That's going to fucking hurt you knew it already.
Mattheo made his way towards you and climbed on the bed. You position yourself between his legs eager to have a taste of him but before you could take him into your mouth he stopped you
"We will have time for that next time. Right now I wanna fuck that perfect pussy of yours. Turn around and face down."
You did as he said, facing down into the matress and arching your back for him to see.
"Perfect.", he smacked you ass before re inserting two fingers in your cunt, scissoring it from inside.
You moaned into the pillow, " Just fuck me already Riddle!"
"How the fuck are you still so bossy? Do I need to fuck that attitude out of you?", he landed another smack on your ass.
Mattheo pumped himself a few times before putting his tip in front of your core. " Tell me if it hurts too much. I'll stop"
You only let out a muffled 'Yes', your brain only processing the big tip which made your pussy clench in anticipation.
Mattheo slid in slowly making sure not to hurt you "Fucking Merlin, You're tight- fuck- wjy haven't I fucked you sooner?"
You moaned as you felt your walls squeeze his dick deeper inside you. "So full- Mattheo- Ah fuck—"
Mattheo gave you a few seconds to adjust yourself to the size before he started moving. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled up your head from the mattress.
"Fuck- Good girl of the Gryffindor being fucked like a whore.", Mattheo grunted as his increased his pace.
" What would other people say if they saw you like this huh? The quidditch star being fucked by her rival into oblivion?"
His words only made you clench tighter against his dick.
"Look at you- fuck- milking my dick like a fucking whore. You would love that wouldn't you? people know how much of a- fuck- slut you are?"
Mattheo Pistoned his hips against your making you cry, you mascara running down your cheeks, drool sliding off your chin, your hair a mess.
But all you could think of right now how Mattheo's dick filled you up and hit you in the right spot,
You didn't have to say it this time, Mattheo felt it. You're close. He slammed into you over and over again, you could feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"Fucking hell- I'm close- fuck- Can't hold it—"
"Me too."
You cumed immediately and Mattheo followed as you filled your insides being filled with a hot liquid. Mattheo thrashed into you a few times x working out his orgasm before collapsing beside you.
The sound of heavy breath filled the room. Mattheo turned to face you "You good? Did I hurt you?"
You shaked your head in response not having the energy to have a conversation.
After gaining his breath, Mattheo stood up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel and cleaned you up.
He settled back into the bed and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"So Mattheo Riddle has a heart afterall huh?", you teased him.
He smiled at you, " Don't you get used to it princess."
A few moments of comfortable silence passed , then you decided to break it. "Hey umm Mattheo?"
"Yes darling?"
Ignoring the butterflies the nickname gave you, you cleared your throat and asked your question.
"What happened with Mclaggen? I didn't think you would end up in detention before the big game."
Mattheo averted his gaze and spoke like he was embarrassed, "Well you see- um-"
You raised an eyebrow at him.
He sighed, "He said you would be a good fuck and was trying out for quidditch team just to get into your pants."
You looked at him surprised, " You defended me?"
Mattheo gave you an offended look, "Of course I did! Nobody messes with whats mine."
"Yours? Since when?", You gave him a judging look.
" The first time you ever punched me in the face in 3rd third for being a git. I thought ' That's future Mrs Riddle.'"
"So you decided to fight with me all these years? Great way to have my attention Riddle.", you rolled your eyes at him.
" Hey! I don't do emotions well ok? Was trying to keep myself a part of your life in anyway I could.", He pouted.
You chuckled, "Well you don't have to do that anymore."
You pecked his lips softly and you swear you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.
"Oh shut up!", Mattheo hide his face in your chest.
A/n: Hope you guys like it? I cringed a little while writing this. Reading smut is so much more fun.
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Warning: Smut!! Minors DNI! (Not proofread since it's 3am)
Please bear with me since it's my first time writing smut so if you find any part cringe or have Criticism please feel free to leave them in comments.
Words: 2.4K (Porn with a little plot)
Summary: The reader is the little sister of Harry Potter and on Gryffindor Quidditch team. Her rivalry with Mattheo is fiery but what happens when the tension finally bursts?
Mattheo fucking Riddle. The bane of your existence.
He's cocky, he's arrogant and struts around like he owns the whole castle. You have hated him since you started at Hogwarts. He was in the same year as your brother, making him only an year older than you. Despite not having the same classes you two competed against each other in Quidditch.
You are currently sitting at the Gryffindor table with the golden trio having your breakfast. Tomorrow is the first game of the season against slytherin.
You take a bite of your toast listening to Harry and Ron going over the details of the match while Hermione is knitting socks for the house elves.
"Oi Potter!", Mattheo's voice called out from the slytherin table. Both you and Harry turned your heads at the sound.
" Oh not you golden boy, you keep chatting with your red headed boyfriend.", Mattheo smirked at your brother before looking at you.
"Ready to lose tomorrow princess?"
"In your dreams,Riddle."
"Only if you knew the dreams I had about you.", You just flipped him off in response not wanting to fight and land a detention just before the big game.
"The hell is his problem?", Ginny scowled as Mattheo walked away to his table.
" Just being a git as usual. He's so obsessed to Y/n you would think he fancies her.", Hermione chimed in.
You cringed at the thought but didn't say anything.
"Oh I would kill him before he tries anything with my sister.", Harry said glaring at the slytherin table.
'Yeah but keep your hands clean until tomorrow. We need you at the match and not in a cell in Azkaban.", You teased trying to ease out the situation.
----
The match day came, whole castle was buzzing with excitement for the first Quidditch Match at the season.
You walked out on the field to see the slytherin team warming up. Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, all familiar faces except one. Their star chaser was missing. You looked around but couldn't see Mattheo anywhere.
Did he get detention? As much as he loved starting fights he loved quidditch more. Why would he miss a game against Gryffindor by getting himself into trouble?
You mounted your broom as Madam Hooch blowed the whistle signalling the start of the game.
It was an easy win for Gryffindor with one of the slytherin's best player missing.
When youn were heading back to the dressing room you could hear the slytherin's grumbling under their breath.
"Why did Riddle have to beat Mclaggen just a day before the game?", Malfoy kicked at the grass.
" You know how he gets when he's angry. Besides I bet Mclaggen said something fucked up to get Mattheo that mad ."
"Nott's right. I don't think I have seen Mattheo that angry before. When me and Enzo tried to intervene, Mattheo didn't budge until he beat that guy into the floor.", Blaise said thoughtfully.
You eyebrows knitted together in realisation. "So I was right, he did end up in detention.", you wishpered to yourself.
----
" Damn girl! are you trying to get railed tonight? Because with that outfit you will.", Ginny smirked at you.
You looked yourself in the mirror fixing your hair, wearing a tight black dress that hugged your curves.
You smiled at her and teased back, "God forbid a girl gets dolled up for herself."
"I'm just saying y'know? Adrian Pucey's gonna fall to his knees the moment he sees you."
You cringed, "Really? Pucey? He's a Slytherin and also the Quidditch captain. Not to mention we beat their arse today, he's not gonna be happy about it."
Ginny wiggled her eyebrows, "Oh well that doesn't stop him from undressing you with his eyes. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like he would do anything to—"
"Oh my god Gin! Eww I'm not gonna hookup with a slytherin. Just because you and Parkinson are hooking up doesn't mean I wanna take part in this club.", You said wearing your earrings.
Ginny shrugged, " Well just so you know, If you ever wanna 'join' this club, me and Pansy are open to—"
You laughed at her teasing, "Will keep that mind thanks."
When you arrived at the party it was already in full force, music making the windows shake, people dancing, the smell of firewhisky floating through the air.
You and Ginny headed over to get yourself some drinks. "Cheers.", both of you said in unison said taking a shot.
After a few shots, Ginny was pulled away by Pansy into a corner while you were greeted with an already drunk Puecy.
" Congrats on the win Potter.", He said raising his glass at you.
"Thanks Pucey. Always a pleasure kicking Slytherin's ass.", You smiled at him.
He chuckled, leaning towards you, " This party is getting boring right? why don't you and me go—"
"Why don't you go and fuck yourself Adrian?", Mattheo's voice caused you to jolt. He was now standing behind you wearing a black shirt. You gulped at the sight, his rolled sleeves displayed the veins of his arm.
Pucey threw him a dirty look, " Rich coming from a person who got into a fight before an important game."
"Yeah? well if you can't win the match for your team without a single player that's on you *captain*.", Mattheo retorted back throwing daggers at him.
" Now get lost before you end up in the bed next to Mclaggen."
Pucey glared at him but left, not wanting to get involved in a fight he'll surely lose.
"Princess", Mattheo gave you a nod. " Celebrating the win I see? You guys were lucky I couldn't make it today."
"You're right, would have been more fun to beat those snakes when you were on the field. Could have watched your stupid face twist in anger.", You looked him in the eye to see something more than hate.
He ignored your comment, his eyes roaming over your body maping you out with his eyes. Gaze so intense you could swear he was able to see through your clothes, or maybe the alcohol is kicking in.
"Don't tell me you dolled up for that stupid Pucey.", he asked with a scoff.
" Maybe I did. If the rumors were half true I would best believe that I could have a good time with him.", You leaned against the table, taking a sip of your drink.
Mattheo scoffed again, "Good time? Oh princess he wouldn't even be able to make you cum."
You breath hitched, "You know a lot about his expertises don't you? Spend a little time on his bed—"
Mattheo pulled you closer by your waist, "Tsk tsk you've got a mouth on you haven't you?", he whispered in your ear.
" I wonder how I could use that mouth of yours in more useful ways."
"All talk and no action, Riddle."
His gripped tightened on your waist and he smirked at you.
"Oh I'll show you action.", with that he dragged you out of the party.
You followed him wordlessly feeling the heat pool between your legs.
You don't remember how much you walked but you were finally at the front of his dorm. Mattheo wasted no time on opening it, pushing you in then slamming it closed.
He pinned you against the door catching you lips in a searing kiss. The kiss was rough with teeth clattering and his tongue invading your mouth.
His hands travelled up from your waist to your breasts before gently cupping them which made you gasp into the kiss.
He pulled away breathing heavily, lips swollen, beads of sweat covering his forehead.
"Can I?", He played with the strap with your dress. You were a little surprised that he was asking for permission since he was acting like a starved man just a second ago.
You nodded in response and Mattheo didn't wait another second before getting you out of the dress and throwing it on the floor.
Mattheo kneeled in front of you, positing himself between your legs. He kissed your inner thighs, before softly kissing the clothed heat. You let out a soft gasp when his lips met your core.
Mattheo slowly pulled your panties aside and kissed your clit. He draged his tongue through your slit torturesly slow which made you whine.
He chucked against your core sending shivers up your body, "Now now darling, don't be impaitent yeah?"
Mattheo worked his tongue against your pussy while his thumb rubbed over your clit. You grinded your hips against his face to which he goarned.
"Impaitent little thing aren't you?"
Before you could say anything Mattheo inserted two fingers in your pussy without warning. The strech tore a moan out of you as you gripped his curls.
He started moving his two fingers while still eating you out like a starved man. You pulled on his, getting closer to edge.
"Fuck, you taste like heaven princess. Should have done his sooner.", he increased his pace, his fingers just hitting the right spot.
"Yeah? Feels good baby? Gonna cum on your rival's tongue?", Mattheo increased his pace
You leaned against the door fully, your knees giving up as you felt getting closer to edge. " Yes Yes! fuck Matt—"
Then he stopped. You whined in frustration," Why did you stop!?"
Mattheo smirked, your essence mixed with his saliva drooling down his chin, "What? you think I would just let you go that easily? Not happening princess "
Mattheo stood up now towering over you, "Get on the bed sweetheart."
You followed his instructions and sat in the bed while seeing him undo is belt.
You decided to mess with him a little, "You're probably small anyways." To your frustration, Mattheo didn't say anything just smirked and let his jeans fall to the ground.
You could see the outline of his dick from the boxers, already stained with precum.
Definitely not small.
When he removed his boxers, you gulped. That's going to fucking hurt you knew it already.
Mattheo made his way towards you and climbed on the bed. You position yourself between his legs eager to have a taste of him but before you could take him into your mouth he stopped you
"We will have time for that next time. Right now I wanna fuck that perfect pussy of yours. Turn around and face down."
You did as he said, facing down into the matress and arching your back for him to see.
"Perfect.", he smacked you ass before re inserting two fingers in your cunt, scissoring it from inside.
You moaned into the pillow, " Just fuck me already Riddle!"
"How the fuck are you still so bossy? Do I need to fuck that attitude out of you?", he landed another smack on your ass.
Mattheo pumped himself a few times before putting his tip in front of your core. " Tell me if it hurts too much. I'll stop"
You only let out a muffled 'Yes', your brain only processing the big tip which made your pussy clench in anticipation.
Mattheo slid in slowly making sure not to hurt you "Fucking Merlin, You're tight- fuck- wjy haven't I fucked you sooner?"
You moaned as you felt your walls squeeze his dick deeper inside you. "So full- Mattheo- Ah fuck—"
Mattheo gave you a few seconds to adjust yourself to the size before he started moving. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled up your head from the mattress.
"Fuck- Good girl of the Gryffindor being fucked like a whore.", Mattheo grunted as his increased his pace.
" What would other people say if they saw you like this huh? The quidditch star being fucked by her rival into oblivion?"
His words only made you clench tighter against his dick.
"Look at you- fuck- milking my dick like a fucking whore. You would love that wouldn't you? people know how much of a- fuck- slut you are?"
Mattheo Pistoned his hips against your making you cry, you mascara running down your cheeks, drool sliding off your chin, your hair a mess.
But all you could think of right now how Mattheo's dick filled you up and hit you in the right spot,
You didn't have to say it this time, Mattheo felt it. You're close. He slammed into you over and over again, you could feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"Fucking hell- I'm close- fuck- Can't hold it—"
"Me too."
You cumed immediately and Mattheo followed as you filled your insides being filled with a hot liquid. Mattheo thrashed into you a few times x working out his orgasm before collapsing beside you.
The sound of heavy breath filled the room. Mattheo turned to face you "You good? Did I hurt you?"
You shaked your head in response not having the energy to have a conversation.
After gaining his breath, Mattheo stood up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. He came back with a wet towel and cleaned you up.
He settled back into the bed and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"So Mattheo Riddle has a heart afterall huh?", you teased him.
He smiled at you, " Don't you get used to it princess."
A few moments of comfortable silence passed , then you decided to break it. "Hey umm Mattheo?"
"Yes darling?"
Ignoring the butterflies the nickname gave you, you cleared your throat and asked your question.
"What happened with Mclaggen? I didn't think you would end up in detention before the big game."
Mattheo averted his gaze and spoke like he was embarrassed, "Well you see- um-"
You raised an eyebrow at him.
He sighed, "He said you would be a good fuck and was trying out for quidditch team just to get into your pants."
You looked at him surprised, " You defended me?"
Mattheo gave you an offended look, "Of course I did! Nobody messes with whats mine."
"Yours? Since when?", You gave him a judging look.
" The first time you ever punched me in the face in 3rd third for being a git. I thought ' That's future Mrs Riddle.'"
"So you decided to fight with me all these years? Great way to have my attention Riddle.", you rolled your eyes at him.
" Hey! I don't do emotions well ok? Was trying to keep myself a part of your life in anyway I could.", He pouted.
You chuckled, "Well you don't have to do that anymore."
You pecked his lips softly and you swear you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.
"Oh shut up!", Mattheo hide his face in your chest.
A/n: Hope you guys like it? I cringed a little while writing this. Reading smut is so much more fun.
Zayne was the definition of gentle. Whether that was with caresses, or the soft tone of his voice, he never wanted to hurt you. Even in bed, the man would worship you. Slow, and gentle.
Tonight he kisses you slow, one arm braced against the mattress as the other drags along your side, finding rest on the curve of your hip. He rocks into you gently, pressing the hard outline of his cock against you, pulling soft sounds from your lips.
He’s already having a hard time tonight. His breathing is coming harsher than usual, and his shoulders remain tense. So when your hips rise to rub against him, his restraint crumbles.
He breaks the kiss, forehead pressing to yours. “I don’t think I can be gentle tonight.”
Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging on the strands. “Then don’t be.”
And he’s not.
Before you know it, Zayne’s got you naked under him, fucking into you with a pace harder than he’s ever allowed before. His cock slams deep, every snap of his hips making your breasts bounce as his hand spreads your thighs wider. The only sounds in the room are your moans and the sharp slap of his skin against yours.
“God baby—“ he rasps, head falling back for a second before he’s crashing his mouth to yours in a bruising kiss. ‘You are so pretty like this.”
His rhythm doesn’t falter, each thrust rattles the bed frame as your greedy cunt sucks him in again and again. Your moans only fuel him, nails raking down his shoulders as he somehow drives into you harder.
“Zayne—ahh—please—”
You don’t even know what you’re begging for, if you want him to stop or to give you more. Either way, he doesn’t give you mercy. He pounds into you, the blunt head of his cock nudging the spongy spot inside of you. Your thighs tremble, vision blurring with pleasure, lips falling open in a broken cry.
“Nggh…ahh…baby I can’t—“
“Can’t take it?” he taunts, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. He slams into you again, punching the breath out of your lungs. “Angel, I just started.”
He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, folding you in half and fucking you deeper. The new angle drags him against every nerve inside of you, filling you with a pleasure that makes you sob. You clamp down on him hard, squeezing and pulling a groan out of his chest. The usually quiet man, save for the soft grunts, is incredibly vocal tonight.
“Fuck, you’re so tight—“ his teeth graze your collarbone as his hips piston into you. His mouth continues to bite and suck until red and purple blooms. “How long, baby? How long have you been waiting for me to take you like this?”
“S-So long,” you choke out between sobs of pleasure.
“That’s it. You’re so good for me.” His words are hot and filthy against your ear before he drops his head and groans into your neck, fucking you harder. “Taking me so well.”
Your body starts to tighten, stomach coiling with that familiar feeling—and he knows it. His pace shifts just slightly, grinding deeper as he chases after your orgasm. He swipes his thumb into his mouth, gathering spit and pressing it to your clit. He begins circling it slowly while his other hand holds your hips down against the mattress as you squirm.
“Take it,” he orders. “Don’t fight it. You know you want to come on my cock.”
You do.
When the edge finally peaks, you begin to convulse around him, whimpering out a string of incoherent babbling. You squeeze him so tightly it nearly pulls him under with you, his hips faltering.
But he doesn’t stop.
Even as your body shakes from the sensitivity, he keeps pounding into your swollen, wet cunt, spreading your sticky arousal across your thighs. You try to arch away, but your hips buck right back up, begging for more.
“Look at you, so messy for me,” he says, brushing a strand of hair stuck your face. “You want me to fill you? Is that it?”
“Yes—yes, Zayne.”
“Fuck—nngh hah—“ He bites down on his lip, thrusting harder as his cock swells. “I’m gonna give it to you.”
One brutal thrust. Another. His swollen tip slams against your cervix, over and over, until he groans loud. His cock twitches as hot pulses of his release spill inside. His hips jerk as he pumps you full—slow, heavy thrusts claim you to ensure every drop of him stays where it belongs. His body holds you down, dragging every last drop of pleasure out of you both.
When it finally fades, he collapses against you. Your skin sticks together from the sweat, and the marks on your skin are vibrant where his mouth claimed you. He’s soft for a moment, lips brushing yours, trailing kisses over your cheek, your nose—just like the Zayne you know.
But when he lifts his head, his eyes are dark, and his cock is not softening inside you.
He thrusts once, the squelching sound of your cunt and a broken cry fills the room. His mouth curls into a grin.
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The sun dipped low over the Hogwarts pitch, casting long shadows across the freshly cut grass. The rest of the Quidditch team had cleared out long ago, their laughter and gear fading behind them, leaving only the hush of the evening and your increasingly ragged breathing.
You were sweating profusely, chest heaving as you landed yet again with a clumsy thud, your broomstick skittering across the turf beside you. You huffed as frustration burned in your lungs. You’d been at this for over an hour, maybe more. Madam Kogawa had told you that to even think about trying out for the Quidditch team, your flying needed to be exceptional. And flying…well, it wasn’t exactly your strong suit.
But you were determined. And who better to teach you than the Slytherin captain himself?
Sebastian stepped forward, strands of hair slicked to his forehead, still damp from practice. He had absolutely no right to look this damn good after hours in the sun. A smug little grin tugged at his mouth.
“Okay,” he said, lips twitching. “I’d give it a six. Maybe a six and half if you promise not to crash into the stands next time.”
Brilliant.
Now he was rating your flying abilities and enjoying every second of it. You blew an exasperated puff of air up to dislodge the strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo and into your face, shooting him a look that was half glare, half defeat. Your cheeks burned, whether from embarrassment or the lingering rush of adrenaline, you weren’t sure
He chuckled, extending his hand to help you up, which of course you took. His grip was strong and warm as he pulled you effortlessly to your feet, like you weighed nothing at all. You stumbled slightly, only for his other hand to catch your elbow and steady you with that damned smirk still plastered across his face.
“Alright, come on,” he said, retrieving your broom with a practiced sweep. “You’re not getting out of this. You said you wanted to learn to fly better to try out for Chaser—I’m holding you to it.”
You groaned, brushing stray bits of grass off your practice uniform and dug your toe into the earth. You were tired. Spent. And maybe just not built for this broomstick business.
But you weren’t quite ready to admit defeat.
At least not with him watching you like that.
“You know…” you start, heart skipping a beat as your pulse picked up for an entirely different reason.
Where you really about to say this?
“We could just save a broom,” you said, voice soft, deceptively casual.
He chuckled at that.
Then you spoke again.
“I could ride a wizard instead.”
Sebastian froze.
His smirk vanished. His mouth opened, then closed again. He looked as if his brain had short-circuited.
For one horrible moment, you wondered if you’d completely misread him today. The lingering glances. The subtle touches, the way his hands found your hips far more than necessary to guide your posture on the broom.
You quickly adverted your gaze, heart pummeling to the pit of your stomach.
“Merlin’s bloody—” he finally muttered, voice cracking halfway through a laugh. He scrubbed a hand down his face to attempt to hide red blooming across his cheeks.
“You can’t just say things like that,” he continued, brown eyes wide. “Not when were alone. Not when you’re—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he looked at you. Properly. Fully. His gaze raked from the tousled mess of your hair to the flush on your cheeks, down to the rise and fall of your chest.
“Not when you look like that,” he added, voice rougher this time.
And there it was, the electric shift in the air. All the tension between you two dissipated into a single, taut thread, begging to be severed.
Sebastian’s eyes were dark now, heavy-lidded and locked on yours. The pitch was empty, the only sound was the wind curling softly through the hoops high above. He reached out slowly, like he was giving you a chance to stop him.
You didn’t.
His hand settled on your waist, tugging you forward until your chest brushed his. The broom clattered forgotten to the ground.
Suddenly, you felt awake. Like the practice hadn’t winded you at all.
“You’re really going to make me lost my captaincy,” he whispered dangerously close to your ear, his breath tickling that sensitive spot. “Getting caught like this on the pitch…”
“Then don’t get caught,” you murmured, arms looping around his neck.
He growled, low and throaty.
Then his mouth was on yours. It was hot, hungry, and completely abandoning any pretense of innocent flying lessons. His hands roamed your body, a little rough and utterly possessive as he walked you backwards toward the pitch wall, somewhere half-shielded from the castle windows. He spun you both effortlessly, pressing himself back against the stone before sliding to the ground, the grass bending beneath him.
You followed his lead, straddling his lap with trembling fingers and blazing need. He looked up at you like you were something holy.
“You sure?”
You nodded, biting your lip.
With a soft groan, you kissed him again, deeper—dirtier this time. His hands spread across your thighs, thumbs brushing circles that made your stomach flutter. You rocked your hips experimentally, grinding against the bulge beneath you. He was incredibly hard, convincing you to rock harder, gasping as the pressure struck you right where you were aching.
Not a second was wasted. You broke the kiss long enough to shimmy out of your pants, not caring that a slick spot had formed on the thin fabric of your panties. You reached between you both, fingers finding his belt, shaking as you worked it loose enough to yank both his trousers and boxers down just enough to free him.
His cock sprang out, thick and pulsing when you took it in your palm.
“Fuck, you’re going to undo me,” he hissed through clenched teeth, watching you like he couldn’t believe this was real.
You lifted your hips swiped your underwear aside before guiding him to your entrance. Slowly, you sank down, inch by inch, the stretch making your head tip back with a moan. His eyes rolled back briefly as he felt you began to take him in.
As you continued down his length, Sebastian’s head fell back against the pitch walls. “Gods, you’re so tight.”
You dropped the rest of the way with sharp gasp. “—so full,” you panted.
“Fuck.”
You began to move then, slow at first, controlled. You rolled your hips the way you knew would wreck him. His hands flew to your waist, gripping hard, but still letting you lead.
Maybe you couldn’t ride a broom.
But you sure as hell could ride this wizard.
“Look at you,” he gasped, eyes half-lidded. “On top of me, on the bloody pitch—riding your captain like you were made for it.”
“Maybe I was,” you managed out, leaning down to kiss the line of his jaw.
You sped up, bouncing in his lap now, chasing that high you felt. The tension in your lower belly already coiling dangerously tight. There was something so intoxicating about being out in the open like this.
Sebastian began to meet your thrusts, hips snapping up into you hard and fast. The sounds of your bodies moving together was downright filthy. Skin slapping, breathless moans, and the lewd squelch of your soaked cunt.
You were humbled by just how quickly he was bringing you to the edge.
“Oh—Seb, fuck, I’m going to—”
His hand flew to the back of your neck, pulling you back down into a desperate kiss. His tongue darted in your mouth, exploring with determination.
Your orgasm crashed through you with a cry, muscles clenching around him involuntarily, soaking his thighs in the process. He swallowed every sweet sound you made like they were oxygen and he’d been drowning.
He followed with a growl, holding you down as he spilled deep into you, cock twitch as his body shuddered beneath yours.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just panting and laughing softly.
Eventually he reached up, brushing your cheek with a tenderness that made you melt.
If you’re still looking for Sylus smut prompts I’ll throw 2 of my favorite tropes out there: ‘But there was only one bed’ and the whole ‘having to pretend were a couple but we don’t actually want to pretend.’ I’ll throw ‘sex pollen’ and ‘strip poker/kitty cards’ in as bonus options. By no means feel free to use any of these, just happy to offer any help to the brainstorming process :)
whiskey and sin
pairing: sylus x fem!reader
summary: you've started to fall for the Leader of Onychinus. but what happens when you remember your tragic past? will the yearning still linger or fade away?
a/n: had the worst possible day ever and there are worse days to come in the next week. so i decided to write as it made me feel so much better. also i found this chinese song that gave me this idea which i decided to merge with the second idea from the req. altho im now noticing i did get a lil sidetracked so it might not be exact. hope you enjoy it, lemme know your thoughts!
genre: nsfw content, smut, sylus smut, public sex, p in v, backshotsy(?) 18+ MDNI.
It started ever since you managed to procure the brooch from Sylus. At first, you started brushing it off as deja vu. What else could it mean? Every time you saw him, talked to him, every accidental touch. You felt like you knew him, yet you’d never seen him before.
Why did everything feel so familiar with him?
Was it the way he talked? That erotic, deep, velvety voice of his. Like aged whiskey. It screamed confidence and dominance. The voice that never had to be raised because the whole world already kneeled the moment he spoke.
Was it the way he looked at you? Those dark, heavy-lidded eyes that drank in your every detail. The gaze that stripped you off of every piece of clothing and devoured you whole. The brow that raised every time you lied.
Or was it the way he touched you? Fingers lingering just a second too long, enough for you to feel the heat of his skin. His chest grazed your back as he reached for something behind you. That traitorous hitch in your breath.
It was getting unbearable with every passing moment. Yes, he was, indeed, a very good-looking man. Sexy, handsome. Beautiful. Obviously, you were attracted to him. You’d never denied that. And now, perhaps, that was getting to you.
Getting your hands on the brooch wasn’t easy. You needed to attend the auction and Sylus was your only safe way of getting there. As much as you wanted to avoid him, you couldn’t. Sharing the same space with him made it impossible to deny your feelings for him. You were absolutely not falling for him. But you wanted him. In ways you couldn't explain or comprehend for that matter. Was he perhaps drugging you?
There were still a few days left for the auction. Sylus was nowhere to be found. The twins, too, left you in the company of solitude. There’s only so much one can do alone in a huge mansion. As boredom kicked in, you crept out of your room, wary of Mephisto. You didn’t want him spying on you. Walking down the corridor, you came across a hall. No doors, just paintings adorned on the walls.
Taking slow and measured steps, you carefully observed each painting. Some of them were landscapes, others abstract paintings that you never really understood. Studying each piece, a particular painting caught your eye. It captured a vast and endless field cradled with rolling hills. Flowers as crimson as fresh blood were blooming in abundance. Captivated by its allure, you couldn’t help but stare in awe for who knew how long.
Your lips moved before you brain caught on, “Tarus City.”
The place looked familiar as if it were etched in the depths of your memories. You’d never been there before, you didn’t know anybody who had, so what was it? The unease lingered on till you went to bed. You didn’t know if Sylus was back yet, but you didn’t want to go find out. What if he saw you? The newfound emotions were already plaguing your thoughts and mind, and now this. It was almost impossible to lie to Sylus.
So you lay in bed immersed in thoughts, waiting for sleep to come pouring in and save you from this agony. Lately it felt as if sleeping was the only peace of mind you were spared with.
After what felt like an eternity, the D-day dawned. To your surprise, Sylus had already prepared the perfect attire for you. A maroon dress that dripped like crushed rubies against your skin with a plunging neckline and delicate strap sleeves. The high slit teased glimpses of your toned thigh with every step. Paired with elegant black stiletto heels that clicked like a loaded gun on marble floors.
Maroon. It was his colour. Wearing that dress made you strangely ecstatic. It felt like he was making his claim on you. With what you’d been feeling the last couple days, this was nothing short of torture. You didn’t know how he felt. Hell, did he even feel anything at all? But these little gestures just confused you.
The evening was, so far, uneventful. You’d brought protocores for ridiculously high prices. Mostly because Sylus didn’t want to seem “broke” and also because you wanted to get a reaction out of him, but that turned out to be quite futile. Turned out, using his money only fueled his ego.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, Sylus invited you to the dance floor, to which you couldn’t say no. Neither did you want to nor you could because you needed to know where the aether core was.
Sylus extended his hand, which you gladly took. The moment he held your hand in his, he raised it up to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on your fingers. His lips lingered on your fingers for just a moment longer, but he never broke eye contact. Had his eyes left yours at all that evening?
“Eyes on me, kitten.”
Why’d he have to be fucking handsome? He was making it very difficult for you to focus on anything, but him. Lately, he had infiltrated your mind like an infectious virus. You smelled him everywhere around the house. Warm Leather and amber. When he was around, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. When he wasn’t, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. What was wrong with you?
As he twirled you in his arms, you felt heat prickling your body. Black scales and horn, red markings all over his chest, his heart… It was Sylus. But why was he dying? You held him in your arms, tightly embracing him as he breathed his last.
In a fleeting moment, that flashback ended. You felt Sylus’s warm hand on the small of your back, while the other one held yours and guided you along the floor.
“You’re thinking too loud, sweetie.”
You looked up at him. The crimson eyes, smug expression, chiseled features. You’re sure it was him. Was this why all the occurrences started the moment you met him? You’d known him in your past life. You’d killed him, hadn’t you?
“Are you okay, (reader)?”
“Stayrus.”
That seemed to have had quite the effect on him. Hands still lingering on your body, he stopped. His expression changed and for the first time, it was readable. His brows were slightly creased and raised. His eyes appeared crestfallen. They were glassy. He opened his lips to speak, but stopped. His voice betrayed him.
What did ‘Stayrus’ mean and why did it have that effect on him?
By now, you two were the only ones not swaying to the music playing, everything forgotten, just staring into the depths of each other's eyes. Slowly retreating from his embrace, you took a few steps back and quietly retired from the dance floor.
You never believed in past lives and all the fate and destiny crap, but this was different. You were falling for someone you hardly knew, but felt like you’d known him forever. As you took quick steps out of the facility, cold air brushed past your face. Warm tears were prickling down your cheeks.
You couldn’t explain it any more than the fact that you were devastated. You’d killed Sylus in your previous life, but why did it matter now? He was right there in front of you. But maybe you never changed. Maybe you’d kill him again if he didn’t step back.
The cold night air bit at your skin as you stumbled forward, heels clicking unevenly against the pavement. You needed distance. Needed to breathe. But before you could take another step, a firm hand closed around your wrist.
You were yanked backward, your back colliding with a solid chest. The scent of warm leather and amber flooded your senses, and your stomach twisted. Sylus.
"Running away, kitten?" His voice was low, but the usual smugness was gone. Stripped raw.
You wrenched yourself free, whirling to face him. His crimson eyes were darker now, brows drawn together, lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. The sight of him so visibly unsettled only made the ache in your chest worse.
"Stay away from me," you choked out, voice cracking.
His expression flickered. "Talk to me."
"No." You took a step back, hands shaking. "You don’t get to– to look at me like that. Not after what I–" A sob ripped through you, hot tears spilling over. "I killed you." The words were a whisper, a confession.
Sylus went utterly still.
The silence between you was suffocating. You could see it now. The way his throat worked, the way his fingers flexed at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for you. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. "You remember."
It wasn’t a question.
You shook your head, nails digging into your palms. "Flashes. Just enough to know I held you while you died. Enough to know it was my fault." Your breath hitched. "And now you’re here, and I—" You pressed your palms into your eyes, as if you could push the images away. "I don’t understand. Why aren’t you angry? Why do you keep touching me, looking at me like–"
"Like what?" He took a step closer, and you stumbled back.
"Like you want me!" The admission tore free, ragged and desperate. "After everything, how can you even stand to be near me?"
Sylus exhaled sharply, something unreadable flashing across his face. Then, slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between you. His hands came up, cradling your face, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn’t realized were still falling.
"Because I do want you," he murmured, voice like gravel. "Then. Now. In every damn lifetime."
You froze.
His next words were quieter, almost vulnerable. "You think I don’t remember too?"
Your heart stopped.
His words seared into you, branding your soul. Then. Now. In every damn lifetime.
You didn’t have time to process them, you couldn’t, not when his hands were on your face, his breath warm against your lips, his eyes holding yours with a possessiveness that made your knees weak.
"Prove it," you whispered, the challenge trembling between you.
Sylus’s mouth crashed into yours before the last syllable faded.
It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming.
His lips moved against yours with a hunger that was lined with desperation, his tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until you gasped, and then he was deeper, tasting you like a man starved. One hand fisted in your hair, angling your head back, while the other gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel every hard plane of his body, the way his heartbeat thundered against your chest.
You moaned into his mouth, fingers tangling in the silk of his hair, nails scraping his scalp. He growled. A low, primal sound that vibrated through you and suddenly you were being walked backward until your spine hit the cold stone wall of the facility.
Sylus didn’t break the kiss.
He devoured you.
His teeth nipped at your lower lip, his tongue licking into your mouth in slow, filthy strokes that had your thighs clenching. The hand in your hair tightened, just shy of pain, while the other slid down to grip your thigh, hiking your leg around his hip. The maroon dress rode up, the slit exposing your skin to the cold air, but all you could focus on was the heat of him. The way his fingers dug into your flesh like he wanted bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.
"Mine," he rasped against your lips, voice wrecked.
You whimpered, arching into him, your nails dragging down the back of his neck. "Yours."
The admission shattered whatever restraint he had left. His mouth slanted over yours again, harder, deeper, his hips grinding against you in a way that made your breath hitch. You could feel him, all of him, hard and throbbing through the layers of fabric. The friction was maddening, not enough, and you rocked against him with a broken sound.
Sylus tore his mouth from yours, his breath ragged. "Look at me."
You forced your eyes open, your vision hazy with desire.
His pupils were blown, his lips swollen from your kisses, his chest rising and falling as unevenly as yours. For the first time, the mask of control was gone, replaced by something raw, needy.
"Say it again," he demanded, thumb brushing your kiss-slick bottom lip.
You didn’t hesitate. "Yours."
His groan was your reward before his lips found yours once more, sealing the desire between. Desire that tasted like whiskey, like sin.
His lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin just below your ear. You gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as his mouth found the column of your throat.
"Sylus–"
His response was a low hum against your pulse, the vibration making your knees weak. Then his tongue flicked over the spot. Once, twice, before his teeth sank in.
You cried out, arching against him, the sharp sting melting into your skin as he sucked, hard enough to mark you. His hand slid from your thigh to grip your hip, holding you in place as he worked another mark just above your collarbone.
"Mine," he murmured against your skin.
A shudder ran through you, but the distant murmur of voices from the auction hall had your breath hitching. "W-what if someone sees us?" you whispered, even as your body betrayed you, pressing closer.
Sylus chuckled, the sound rough with desire. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his thumb brushing over the fresh bruise he’d left. "Let them."
Then his mouth was on you again, licking into the hollow of your throat as his free hand slipped beneath the slit of your dress, fingers skating up your bare thigh. Your moan was loud, too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when his touch burned through you like this, not when every drag of his lips made your thoughts scatter.
"You taste so fucking good," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "And you’re all mine tonight."
You whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as his fingers teased higher, his breath hot against your ear.
"Now tell me, do you want someone to see us?"
The question was a trap, but you were too far gone to resist.
"No," you breathed.
His teeth grazed your neck in warning.
"Liar."
The word was a growl against your skin, rough with possession, as Sylus's fingers found the zipper of your dress. The sound of it sliding down was obscenely loud in the quiet of the night, the fabric parting like a sigh beneath his touch. Cool air brushed over your exposed back, but his hands were fire, skimming up your spine before pushing the straps off your shoulders.
The dress pooled at your waist.
His breath hitched. "Fuck."
The hunger in his voice sent a shudder through you, your nipples hardening under his gaze. He didn't touch you, not yet. Just stared, his crimson eyes darkening as he took in the way your chest rose with each ragged breath.
Then his hands were on you, rough and demanding, cupping the weight of your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, maddening circles. You whimpered, arching into his touch, but he tsked,
pinching lightly.
"Patience, kitten."
You didn't have any left.
His mouth was on you before you could protest, lips closing around one peaked nipple, tongue swirling in a way that had your knees buckling. You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked, hard, the sharp pleasure-pain making your hips jerk. His free hand palmed your other breast, squeezing just shy of too much, and you melted, a moan spilling from your lips.
"Sylus-!"
He switched sides, lavishing the same attention on your other breast, his teeth scraping over the sensitive nipple before soothing it with his tongue. You were panting now, your skin flushed, your core aching with every flick of his tongue.
You couldn't take it anymore.
Your hands slid down his chest, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He groaned against your skin, hips jerking forward as you palmed him through his jeans. God, he was huge, already hard and straining against the fabric.
"Fuck," he hissed, pulling back just enough to watch you. "Look at you, greedy little thing."
You didn't care. You were greedy. For him. For this.
You popped the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with trembling fingers. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy in your hand, and you moaned at the feel of him, the way his pulse jumped under your touch.
Sylus's breath came out in a sharp exhale, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Stroke me.”
You obeyed, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, thumb swiping over the bead of precum at his tip. His groan was filthy, his hips thrusting into your grip as you worked him, slow and teasing.
"Fuck– Faster."
You sped up, squeezing just the way you knew he liked, (how did you know that?), and his head fell back, a string of curses falling from his lips.
But then his hand closed over yours, stilling your movements.
"Enough."
Before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing your chest against the cold stone wall. His body covered yours, his cock nestled against the curve of your ass as his hands slid down your sides, pushing your dress up around your waist.
"You're dripping," he murmured, dragging a finger through your folds. You gasped at the contact, your hips rocking back against him.
"Please–"
"Please what?" His breath was hot against your ear as he teased your entrance, circling but not pushing in.
You whined, desperate. "Fuck me."
He chuckled, low and dark. "Since you asked so nicely." And then he was inside you, filling you in one brutal thrust. You screamed.
He was everywhere, stretching you, ruining you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision white out. You clawed at the wall, but his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, forcing you to take every inch.
"So fucking tight," he growled, his hips snapping forward. "So perfect for me.”
You couldn't speak, couldn't think, not with the way he was pounding into you, each thrust dragging against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars. His free hand slipped around your hip, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you shaking.
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. "Now."
You shattered.
Your orgasm ripped through you like a wildfire, your body clamping down around him as you screamed his name. He fucked you through it, his pace never faltering, his own release building with every snap of his hips.
"Mine," he snarled, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he came, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you up.
You collapsed against the wall, boneless, his body heavy against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.
Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
Summary: “Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”
Alternatively summarized as you try getting Sebastian's undivided attention by making him jealous, but he doesn't take too kindly to your methods...
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, Auror!Sebastian Sallow, Unspeakable!MC, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism
Ahem... whatever this is, it's up on Ao3
There was no mistaking the murderous glint in Sebastian’s eyes as he dragged you through the hallway towards his office. Some Ministry workers stared, their eyes wide with alarm as the Auror manhandled you along behind him. Others whispered, because it wasn’t everyday that an Unspeakable such as yourself found themselves being bullied so brazenly. Everyone could see clear as day that something was going on between the two of you.
But no one dared to move. No one wanted to risk piercing the suffocating silence that emanated from Sebastian. His pounding footsteps were louder than any verbal form of fury, anyway.
It didn’t surprise you that he was acting like this. What he had seen you and your colleague discussing was important; top secret, official Ministry business that you were sworn to keep secret. Any information pertaining to the Veil in the Death Chamber was strictly prohibited from being reiterated outside of the Department of Mysteries. So when your fiancé had walked into the main hall of your workplace and spotted you and a coworker hunched over a table together– shoulder to shoulder and murmuring in low voices– of course his first reaction had been to get territorial.
This was Sebastian Sallow, after all. He had never been the sharing sort, especially not when it came to you.
You and your colleague clamming up upon his arrival probably hadn’t helped you look any less guilty, but that was what you’d been counting on. Besides, what choice did you have? The topic of discussion was classified. Your fiancé of six months knew that you weren’t at liberty to discuss your work– not like he could as an Auror.
Still, that hadn’t stopped him from wordlessly yanking you away from your poor, terrified associate. Sebastian hadn’t made a noise the entire time he hauled you behind him through the Ministry towards the Auror offices.
The door plaque with his name on it glinted mockingly as the man shoved it open, pulling you inside quickly before shutting it with a resounding boom. Before you could so much as blink, Sebastian had you shoved against his desk, pulling a gasp from your throat and sending a litany of parchment and other trinkets clattering to the ground. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess.
No, he was too busy glaring at you as he peeled his coat from his shoulders. The attire was thrown harshly atop a small, cushiony chair in the corner of the room as if it had offended him somehow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were too busy analyzing the fire blazing in his dark, penetrating eyes. You had lit it, and you were now faced with taking the brunt of the heat.
“What the hell was that?” Sebastian’s voice was gruff when he finally spoke, leaning forward to pin your hips to the desk with his own. “Since when did Unspeakables work so closely together with one another?”
“Sebastian, it was nothing. We were just discussing our findings–”
His face ducked lower so it was directly beside your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his fingers dug into the curve of your waist. “Does ‘discussing findings’ have to be done in another man’s lap, or did I miss that addendum in my letter of employment? You were practically inside of him.”
You inhaled sharply when Sebastian’s blunt nails raked up your sides, pulling your tucked shirt out of your skirt. “It was just work. You know I can’t talk about it with you–”
“Maybe you should,” he growled, pulling back to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Maybe I need to know what warrants such familiarity amongst Unspeakables. Did you want me to catch you like that? Were you secretly hoping that I would walk in and find you cozying up to some random man that wasn’t me?”
“No! Of course not– you’re blowing this out of proportion!”
“Am I?” He leaned down again, brushing his lips against your jaw before his mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “I’m your fiancé. I’m the one you said yes to when I asked you to marry me. I’m the only man you should ever let get that close to you. Or do you not agree?”
“Of course I agree, but I can’t help what happens when I’m at work–”
Your excuses were silenced by Sebastian’s teeth suddenly clamping down on your earlobe, a startled hiss bursting from you before you could stop it. “Liar,” he whispered. “There’s this thing called professionalism. You could tell your colleague,” he spat the word venomously, his grip on your waist tightening, “that it’s inappropriate to discuss your findings so close together. You could remind the oaf that you’re engaged– that he doesn’t stand a chance with you, and that he should quit while he’s ahead.”
Sebastian shifted his hips back and gave himself space to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, his hands moving startlingly fast over the clasps. You hardly had the time nor the ability to stop him– not with how turned on you found yourself becoming. Some might say the man you were in love with was overbearing and possessive, and they would be right… but those facets of Sebastian’s character were parts of him that you relished in.
Which was exactly why you had made sure to set the scene he had walked in on perfectly.
You’d known your fiancé was coming to pick you up for your lunch break since he had been so busy with work recently. He had promised you last night that he would make his recent absence up to you at the first opportunity, but a lunch date wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. You had been hoping for this exact scenario the moment the two of you made it home in the evening.
Sebastian forgoing waiting and dragging you to his office, though? That hadn’t been expected. He wasn’t even going to bother with waiting to stake his claim on you.
And despite your nosy, fellow employees lurking around outside the door, you liked that he wasn’t waiting. A lot.
You glanced down at your chest once Sebastian had yanked your blouse over your shoulders, discarding the attire over his shoulder roughly. He ripped your brassiere away next, instantly kneading one of your breasts in his large hand with dizzying possession. “Look at me,” he hissed, the authority in his voice compelling you to listen. Through your lashes, you could see the heady flush creeping across his cheeks as he stared down at you, his ruddy skin a byproduct of lust and rage. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
You didn’t hesitate for a second before whispering, “You, Sebastian…”
Your voice trembled meekly, your eyes fixed on his as you tried to play innocent in the face of his wrath. But he saw right through your ruse– he always did.
“Tell me the truth, darling.” Sebastian demanded, his tone smokey and icy all at once. “You knew what you were doing back there, didn’t you?”
That devilish smirk reserved solely for you appeared on his face– the one that promised ruin and domination. He knew you had planned for this. He was well aware that you had been upset with him for prioritizing work for the last two weeks. You had told him as much time and time again, but there was little either one of you could do about it. The Ministry demanded much from its two prize workers; when duty called, you both answered at the drop of a hat. It was an unfortunate side-effect of being the Hero of Hogwarts and the youngest Auror to ever be assigned his own team.
Sebastian knew you as well as you knew him. He could read you like a book– was intimately familiar with the way your brain worked. Your shoddy attempt at appearing demure wouldn’t work on him.
His impatience was made palpable when he pinched the peak of your breast between his index finger and thumb, wringing a whine from your throat that you struggled to keep quiet. “Y-Yes,” you finally answered, your voice catching. “Yes, I knew what I was doing.”
“You like to play dangerous games, darling. Is this what you wanted? You wanted me pissed enough to ruin you here with all these people around?”
No. You had hoped for your bold actions to result in Sebastian stewing in jealousy for the entire day, then driving him to ignore his office at home to give you some attention. The plan had been for this exact situation to transpire in the comfort of your own house. Not here. Not while the two of you were at work. “Not… exactly…” you croaked.
He chuckled darkly, releasing your breast and your waist to free his cock from the confines of his trousers. The full length of him was already at play– the tip leaking violently and bulging veins conveying his excitement well enough. He reached up to shove at your shoulder, guiding you back against the desk quickly and mercilessly, “Yeah, I’m sure you thought you had it all figured out, huh? Too bad I can guess every move of yours before you make it.”
His cock glistened in the office light as he gathered the fabric of your skirt into a messy heap below your navel, holding it there as he slapped his length against your wet folds. “So don’t argue with me when I give you exactly what you wanted, darling.”
The blunt head pressed against your dripping entrance, the pressure driving your heart into your throat as you stared up at Sebastian with wide eyes. He flashed you another sinful smirk before shifting forward, driving the entirety of his length inside of you in one fluid motion.
You gasped– no, cried his name as he breached you. It was so sudden. So deep, so thick, so overwhelming, that your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you struggled to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The sound of your voice would likely carry. The people milling about outside of Sebastian’s office could probably hear you, and maybe some of them were even listening in considering the spectacle they had witnessed leading up to this moment.
But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you open after two long weeks of forced celibacy, and you loved it.
Your walls fluttered and clamped down on him, wringing a groan from Sebatian’s throat that intermingled with your panted breathing. “So tight…” he groaned, hunching over you as he planted both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You like this, don’t you, love? Making me watch you fawn over some other bloke just so you could end up under me, stuffed full of my cock?”
Your eyes were half-lidded when you met his unwavering stare, your lips parted around shaky exhales and soft mewls. Then you nodded, no longer interested in trying to uphold your innocent facade. “Yes…”
Sebastian’s eyes flashed, and then he was straightening his spine so he could lend his full strength to his movements. The first jerk of his hips had his cock punching into you so roughly that you cried out again, and you felt his nails bite into your skin in response to the sound. “No one could ever have you like this,” he grunted in-between thrusts, raking his fingers down your sides and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. “No one could ever fuck you the way I do. Isn’t that right? Tell me.”
“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the desk when you felt him plant his thumb against your clit, circling the nub rapidly as he pounded into you. “Only you– there’s only you, Sebastian.”
“Damn right there’s only me,” he echoed wickedly, his lust-dark eyes narrowing at you as he watched you writhe around atop the wood. Pleased with your confession, he angled his hips just so, aiming for the area inside of you that he never failed to find with stunning proficiency. It didn’t take long– barely half a second– and then your body began to tremble in response to his assault on that magic spot. The head of his cock kissed against it over and over, and coupled with his unrelenting attention on your bundle of nerves, you felt tension take root deep in your gut. “You’re mine, darling. There’s a band on your finger that proves it.”
Your moans turned high-pitched, and your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you desperately tried to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian– fuck– I can’t–”
The lone hand on your waist shifted so it was splayed across your lower stomach. Sebastian grinned maniacally as he applied a careful amount of pressure there, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock as he hammered into your cunt with feral intention. It knocked the air clean from your lungs– your breathless gasps of his name suddenly quiet enough that you knew he was the only one who could hear them.
“Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”
Fuck– it was too much. His dirty, shameless talking, the brutal thrusts against the deepest parts of you, his thumb moving ceaselessly over your clit. It was overwhelming– all of it threatening to send you careening over the edge even though you didn’t want a second of the euphoria to end.
Sebastian’s nails dug into your skin– right above where he knew your womb was– branding you with crescent shaped imprints that made your stomach lurch with arousal. You weren’t walking out of here without marks, that was for certain. Markings from the man you were set to marry would litter your flesh for days to come, and that thought made the tension in your gut amplify tenfold.
“S-Sebastian,” you whimpered, lifting a shaky hand to grasp the one he had splayed against your stomach. “I– I love you, I’m sorry– I love you–”
He groaned when your walls fluttered around his cock. It was as though your body was trying to swallow him deeper– sucking him in further as you neared your blissful precipice. “You can’t do that anymore, darling,” he leaned down, capturing your lips with his briefly before biting down on your bottom lip. “No more taunting me like that. No more.”
You nodded helplessly beneath him as he rammed his hips into you for emphasis, tears of pent-up pleasure quickly welling in your eyes. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t– please, I’m so close–”
Sebastian’s thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling the nub too fast and too firmly for you to think straight. Your legs kicked out on either side of him at the overstimulation, your voice falling off into a sharp, strung out sob as you continued to plead brainlessly.
“Please, Gods, please–”
His lips were directly against your ear when he growled, “Go on, love. Come for me. I want you drooling and crying– too full of me to even fucking walk.”
Sebastian never relented as you crept closer to the brink. His thrusts turned brutish, faster, and more unforgiving as he furiously worked his thumb over your bundle of nerves. The animalistic grunts he let loose were laced with a tangible hunger that finally caused the knot in your stomach to snap.
And it snapped hard.
All at once, your body seized. Your back arched off the desk and pressed against his chest, a ragged moan ripping from your throat and echoing throughout the room so loudly that it left little room for interpretation to any listeners outside. Your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice– your cunt milking his length as though it never wanted to let him go. Your fluids soaked his trousers as your thighs trembled, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you and leaving you a boneless, twitching mass atop the desk. It was utter rapture.
But Sebastian didn’t stop.
“So fucking perfect,” he growled, his breath hot against your cheek before he stood straight again. “But I’m not done yet.”
His ferocious pace never wavered as he resumed his earlier upright position; one hand on your stomach and the other maddeningly focused on your clit. Sebastian kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your climax while forcing your body into another, knocking the wind from you with such fervor that it bordered on cruel. Your hips twitched in a feeble attempt to escape the overstimulation, but the hand on your lower midriff kept you firmly in place.
“S-Sebastian, wait,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the persisting pleasure he bestowed upon you. “I-It’s too much–”
“You’ll be fine. You wanted this, remember?” He slammed into you again, laughing breathily when you dug your nails into the top of his hand. “I’m just giving you what you indirectly asked for, darling.”
Merlin– you had bitten off way more than you could chew.
You sobbed, the sound laced with both pain and pleasure as your body went limp beneath him. Overly sensitive. Helpless. He was going to make you regret goading him into such a frenzy.
The sordid sound of Sebastian’s hips slapping against your wet cunt was sloppy. His finger moved in every direction over your clit, the slickness covering every inch of your lower half making the pad of his thumb slide all too easily around the nub. Every time he made direct contact with it, you jolted. Senseless noises fell from your lips as you were brought to orgasm once again, more evidence of your arousal gushing around Sebastian’s cock and staining his clothes, but he hardly paid it any mind.
Evidently he had more pressing matters to focus on.
His head tipped forward, a guttural moan tearing from his throat and reverberating through you as he endured your walls tightening around him. It was like nothing could throw him off, his tempo withstanding the feeling of your body sucking him in greedily, the force of his thrusts causing your shoulder blades to scrape against the wood of the desk. Mussed strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he looked back at you, his pupils blown wide, and his lips parted around a telling gasp of your name.
After what seemed like an eternity of brutal overstimulation, Sebastian slammed home deep before finally stilling. He buried himself in your cunt all the way to the hilt as he panted hard, pressing down against your stomach with enough force that you groaned– and you were certain he could feel himself emptying his load inside of you. At least, you certainly could. The hot spurts of his seed scorched you all the way to your core before it started to seep out and drip onto the floor. The sound of it escaping your ravaged center prompted Sebastian to grind against you– trapping his oozing spend in your body with his own.
How the hell were you supposed to go back to work after this?
The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your cheekbone pulled your heavy eyelids apart, and you were met with your fiancé drinking in the sight of your fucked-out expression with sinful male satisfaction etched across his face. His gaze flicked down towards your left hand, and he gingerly lifted it towards his lips to kiss the diamond studded gold band around your ring finger. All you could bring yourself to do was hum questioningly, your mind still too frazzled to form a proper sentence.
“I think we need to recall the wedding invitations we sent out…”
That snapped you out of your post-coital stupor quicker than a lightning strike. What did he mean, recall?
Surely he wasn’t implying he wanted to cancel it.
Had you fucked up worse than you’d imagined by taunting him? Was he calling off the wedding? Had your selfish urge to get his attention ruined your future with him before it had even started? Your eyes went wider than saucers, and your voice was tight when you croaked, “What? Why?”
Sebastian’s grin was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. He ground his still-solid cock into you again to wring a strangled gasp from you, the squelching sound making you flush from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. “Because I don’t think I want to wait until spring anymore. The sooner I can make you mine, the sooner I can spend all of my spare time trying to fuck a baby into you. That is, if I haven’t already… that would really keep other men away, wouldn’t it?”
You glanced down to where his pulsing length was still sheathed in your cunt– its unwavering hardness a testament to how Sebastian was nowhere near finished with you. He pulled back before ramming his hips against you again, forcing a startled, pleasure-induced yelp from your throat. When you looked back up at him, you found that the fire in his eyes from earlier was burning brighter than ever, inextinguishable in its intensity.
summary: Sebastian Sallow sneaks into your dormitory and finds a list hidden in your bed, one filled with names of girls who want him. All except yours.
When you find him reading the list, offended and curious, he decides to prove exactly why your name belongs at the top.
warnings: contains nudity, sexual themes and mature content that is not advised for younger viewers. descriptive smut. sebastian being competive and possesive. idiots in love. all characters are aged up!
a/n: you could also find this Ao3 too.
dedicated to @kelseyreads22 for the light peer pressure. and my discord peeps for never failing to support the stupid feral shit we all just agree with all the time lmao. you could join us for laughs and content here's the link too. enjoy xx
“What?”
Sebastian Sallow sat mortified on the edge of your neatly made bed. A crumpled parchment with scribbled writings clenched on his hand, still in a blend of a confused and deafening expression.
He hadn’t planned to be there, in your dormitory. Let alone, holding his find. He’d only planned to enter your common room and ask for something, but when he saw the dormitory door slightly ajar, curiosity took the best of him.
And he knew the parchment was yours. It was your bed. It smelled like you — the faint hints of your scent that had lured him in since your arrival the fifth year.
The stemming scent that kept him up late nights when the wind slept and his mind didn’t.
The thought alone ticked Sebastian, and he brought his senses up, his eyes flickering back on the bloody list.
Yes, a list.
Girls. Every name written like some twisted Quidditch scoreboard.
Some from every house, some he’d recognized, and some that he never expected to see there.
The most quietest ones held the most pride in signing this list.
The Sallow List
Sebastian didn’t need much context behind it. The doodles beside the signatures were enough.
— Cressida Blume, his hair looks really soft
— Gracie, his voice?? His moans are probably so deep.
— C. Greengrass, his lips are so pink. They have to be kissable!!!!
— Lenora, I seen how fast his fingers move when he has a quill…what else could they do?
“Ergh,”
It felt invasive to read, but it was a list about him. Curiosity ran thick in his blood, especially on something about him. Something that was in your property.
A slow, vexed frown began to form on his face after re-reading the scribbles. The thickset of his brows furrowed as he looked for one name in particular. Yours.
You weren’t on it.
It felt too ironic for him to know you held this list in your belongings, yet, no evidence of you was there.
He even flipped it over, then back again, convinced he might’ve possibly missed it, knowing you and your small writing he often made fun of — but you weren’t on the list.
And it bothered Sebastian’s ego.
All these girls wanting to snog him, but the one whose bed he was currently sitting on; the one he’s seeking wasn’t among the names.
How annoying — how pesty of you to orchestrate such a thing like this and not be on it.
“Typical,” Sebastian murmured to himself. You always knew how to wind him up without even fucking trying — always with him, but still out of reach after all these years.
The pulse trip you gave him of endless ventures he’d spend with you. The almost ‘what-if’s’ but too cowardly to admit, so instead, he’d spend his growth cycles just wanking himself with your scent and hoping for the best.
The consequence? Your name not being on the list.
You entered breathlessly into your dormitory without notice. Everyone had gone to Hogsmeade for the weekend, including yourself, but you’d forgotten your coin pouch, so you ran back.
When the door swung shut, your steps creaked toward your side before finally finding the person in your space.
“Oh, shit—Sebastian?”
You weren’t even phased by his arrival. The patterns you’d learned about the Slytherin man throughout the years stuck with you, so his presence wasn’t ghostly.
What was ghostly was looking at the crumbled parchment you had sworn was hidden well beneath your pillow, now sitting still over his long fingers, in his possession.
Oh shit.
The list.
The fucking list.
Sebastian didn’t flinch. Hell, he didn’t even bother to act like he’d been in trouble. He had mastermind too many times getting caught by Scribner — but with you finding out he found the list? He just threw a smirk.
“W-What are you doing? Where did you find—“ You didn’t mean to stutter, but the list was a limited item you hid from him for years. An inside joke he now knew about.
The titled smirk didn’t fade from his face. You saw how his eyes laid on the parchment, the wrinkly freckled skin over his lids squinting as he spoke. “Wasn’t aware this was part of the female’s newsletter.”
Your heart dropped, but you passed your saliva and wind a hand up, using a non-verbal Accio spell to get the parchment out of his hands.
Sebastian curved your spell and snatched the paper back to himself.
“Hey,” Your feet worked again, and inched closer to him on your bed, wanting to get the paper from him. “Give me that!”
With a smooth motion, Sebastian stood up from your bed rapidly, and of course, with his ridiculous height advantage, he lifted the parchment enough out of your reach.
“I don’t think so.”
He was tall. And even with the swift motion of holding the parchment upward, you could sniff the manly scent as you tippy-toed a jump to grab it, but it was a fail.
“What is this, eh?” Sebastian asked you.
A blow transmitted out of you mid-dormitory. Your cheeks had been tomato red by now and you’d hope Sebastian didn’t notice the trickle of sweat outlining your forehead as you ignored his question.
“Seriously, Sallow,” You jumped again, but he was ridiculously taller than you. “—give me—“
His gaze was gawking at you. You’d known he was directing his attention at you for an answer, but you’d been busy wanting to take away the list on his hand. “You’re dodging my question.”
“It’s just a stupid list. It’s a joke.” You lied.
It wasn’t really a lie. It started a little after the sixth. Snogging began to occur often in the secretive halls of Hogwarts, and rumored lists would often lure. Considering you were the closest to Sebastian Sallow, one drunk night with the girls led to the list. Thanks to you.
A strange scoff emitted from him. “Oh yeah?” He cooed. There been a roughness in his playful voice that made you feel challenged. He’d always been manipulative for answers, but you didn’t want to give it to him today.
You scratched your forehead with your fingers with a sigh, surrendering to grab the item, and then faced Sebastian.
Both of your eyes met.
It hadn’t been fair really. Besides the height — it was foul to see how stupidly attractive the Sallow man truly was.
A few strands of his brown hair flopped over his forehead, nearly covering the brown eyes that peered at you.
You’d seen him more than any of those girls on the list. None of them were this close to him though. They didn’t manage to see the freckles that kissed the top of his cheeks, or how the color of his brown eyes turned lighter like honey in the light.
You've seen him so much, you could debunk the notes in that list. ‘I want to touch his clear skin’ one would say — but it was flawed with scars that only one would see up close. ‘His lips are so pink, he would be a good kisser’ you couldn’t debunk that, yet.
You passed your saliva, “Why are you stirred up, Sallow? If you read the list, your ego should probably be the size of a quaffle by now.” You spat, crossing your arms and breaking the eye-contact. You only stared at the dent he left on your bed from sitting long.
Sebastian had been in another state though. Not enough names could boost his ego in that fucking list. Not any compliments, not any assumptions — anything, but the one name that wasn’t there.
Wanting to avoid any tension, you began to pace around the space, focusing on what you really came in here for, your coin bag, and pretending like you hadn’t done this cut-off every time there was tension with you and him.
The friendship had been strong. You two have seen the worst and the best out of each other. In battles, in class, in parties — one thing would lead to another, but when there was a hint of something more, usually one pulled away or one became a coward.
“Ugh, where is that damn bag—“
“Does the creator of the list exclude themselves from it?” Sebastian asked.
He stood in the same spot, asking questions, but also watching you waste time to find the coin pouch. He was desperate for an answer. An answer that he wanted to hear and his scheme of manipulation took over. Sebastian wasn’t going to stop until he got it.
You chuckled, “Who said I created it?” Your body bent, going through some drawers at the end of the dormitory.
You were a bit far, but you heard the chuckle from him. It resonated more when nobody else, but you two were the only ones in the dormitory.
“I don’t know, let’s see,” Sebastian said, but there was a tip of annoyance in his tone as he projected his truth to you. “ I found it in your bed. Your pillow. And I know your handwriting by now. The title of the list — it’s your writing.” He pointed his finger at the bolded letters.
You froze at how attentive he’d been. It shouldn’t come off as a surprise, but you had to pause your hand digging in your drawer and blink at his words. There, you stood in place, turning slowly over your shoulder and glinting. “What’s your point?”
Sebastian was pissed at how calmly you took this matter. It was only proving that you really did not care about him finding the list as much as he imagined you to. This ticked him off because he was good with girls. He understood why there was a list. He had his way of words to lure and hypnotize them, but you?
The parchment crackled under his grip and you heard it far and clear but didn’t comment. The list became useless at this point if the main ingredient of it found it.
“My point?”
The Adam's apple in his throat moved a little heavier in visual view, but you didn’t notice because your head turned back to the drawer.
But your heart was beating fast. You’d learn throughout the years to avoid conflict. To hide away your real feelings, so to battle such a topic with someone like Sebastian Sallow — it was tough.
“Sebastian, you have like half of Hogwarts tallied up on that list and you’re still complaining?” You snarled, closing the drawer and taking a breath, your coin pouch nowhere to be found.
“All I’m wondering is why your name didn’t make the list.” He said bluntly.
This caught you now. The need to look for your item died down and all you could do was turn to him.
Sebastian held his stand in the same spot you left him in. In the side of your dormitory bed, the list no longer in the air from his height, but on his side, crumbled up in madness.
You swallowed, your steps taking tardiness as you approached him again.
Only you knew the truth, but the least you could’ve done was sign your name. The risks of prioritizing your feelings first rather than wanting to keep a friendship with Sebastian Sallow were high. You were not going to risk it again.
“My name?” You laughed it off, looking to the side. “Why the hell would my name be there?”
Sebastian didn’t laugh. You didn’t even hear a wince of a scoff or chuckle. He wasn’t matching your energy, so you stopped looking to the side and looked up.
There was a grave expression on his face. Those honey-like eyes you were admiring minutes back became dawn darkness from your words and you raised your brows at him.
Sebastian tilted his head a little and blinked with a mocking questioning. “Am I not your type?”
A nervous laugh spilled out of you. It was not funny. It was more of a laugh of hiding away the truth. You could no longer tell if he was teasing as he always was with himself, or demanding truth.
“Are you being serious?”
“I am.” He narrowed.
The air thickened, but you pursed your lips and then pressed them with a hesitant nod. “I just—I—“ you didn’t mean to stutter, but it was getting to you. “We’re…we’re friends,…and…and…”
“You’d known me more than anyone else in this castle, more than Ominis. I’d guess to boost my ego you could’ve written down a few compliments or so in this list to help. Don’t you think?”
You gulped.
Sebastian stepped closer, barely a hand’s length now between the two of you. He’d now begged himself for you to self-confess. Perhaps, it’s become a mutual feeling now, but you were a hard rock to break. It was impossible.
“And then what, Sallow?” You weren’t afraid of his closeness. You have been close to him many times, but even with an empty room with so much space, this one killed you. “Be part of this list too?”
His jaw clenched at your words. It wasn’t even a tease. You were just asking a question as you stared, but it still bothered him. It wasn’t enough.
“Am I not fuckable enough for you?”
It hadn’t even been a joke anymore. There was no cracked smug over his mouth. No glint in his eyes. Just a cold sting of frustration, pride, and something lower — something he didn’t want to admit.
As he asked that, the same list he had crumbled in his fingers crackled under both of you.
Your breaths were higher now and even if you wanted to take your eyes off him, you couldn’t. There was this appalling appearance in you from his question and you knew by now that he’d taken notice of how your chest raised in and out from the nerves.
“I bet if this list said Weasley, your signature would’ve been the first on top, wouldn’t it?” Sebastian dug now. There was a possessive and impulsive timbre in his voice. He hated mentioning the redhead, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Your eyes widened, not expecting him to cross lines now, unplanned. “Are you out of your mind?”
Sebastian’s breath shifted, slower and heavier from your reaction. He looked like he wanted to respond, but it caught between his teeth.
Your eyes glazed on his, then on his flushed cheeks. The little tint of pink that lay on his sides wasn’t there and before you could question anything, you twirled, walking away. “Whatever, Sallow. Just go have fun with the list of names—“
The steps you took from your bed to the door didn’t make it far. Sebastian moved fast, but your Ancient Magic moved faster, sensing his follow and before he could make a stop on you, you turned around facing him.
On unfortunate luck, he’d been close enough for you to step backward and feel your back touch the wall from behind. You took a heavy breath, watching Sebastian lift an arm over your shoulder, flatly on the wall beside you, and bend to stare down.
He’d caged you, so you wouldn’t leave as both of your heights reached the same scale.
It’s like his stare burned into you. Only the sound of his breath blew on your nose from how close he had been. You watched how he lifted his right hand in slow motion, wanting you to watch him show you the crumbled list in his grasp.
The list was fucked at this point. From his anger.
“You think I give two fucks about the names on this list?” He asked you.
You were staring at the paper, but even with that, you sensed his stare stalling at you with every word he said.
The air on the empty setting tightened now. That little humor you were bringing on earlier set off and now things felt serious.
“It’s…it’s a lot of names in there, Sallow.” Your throat itched demanding a sentence to him, but his breath seemed to win over.
“And yours?” Sebastian asked, again. He didn’t back off. He stayed closed, watching you like the truth was buried behind your words.
Your eyes met the frame of his jawline. It’ll pinch with his questions and you weren’t brave enough to stare into his eyes anymore.
But Sebastian didn’t hold his limits anymore. He stepped closer, much closer than he’d ever dared, and lowered right in the inch of your earlobe, his lips brushing on the outline and you shivered.
“What do I have to do,” He murmured in a deliberate struggle. “—to make you write your name in this list?”
The whisper held you under your skin now. This tension coiled between the two of you and the restraint in his voice only made you clenched, not in your throat, but in your core. You’d been afraid if you pressed your legs together, it’d clench faster from his position.
“S-Sebastian…”
“Tell me,” He demanded. “I’d spent the last years doing enough to think you’ll write your signature in such a list about me, yet,” his breath blew inside your ears. “…it wasn’t enough.”
You’d always had your eyes prying on Sebastian Sallow, since the fifth year, but the blockage of friendship and comfortableness layered it.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t enough.
It was that you’d never dared to let yourself want him openly — because if you did…it would never be just 'wanting'.
“Do I have to prove it to you?” Sebastian’s voice cracked over the last word. It sounded like a prayer. To have this blessing of allowing him to take this to his advantage.
Sebastian struggled. He struggled enough in the past years. He couldn’t keep holding back on this very moment. It had been enough in the cycle, and this frustration of rejection — he couldn’t stand it. Not from you.
He couldn’t stand how you stood below him, innocently, pretending like not one inappropriate thought crossed your bloody head this entire time, but he liked a challenge.
There was this competitive thrill for Sebastian Sallow to prove himself right. To have this source of ability to prove something. Persuading something — persuading you.
Pleasuring you.
His nose kept tickling over your ear, and he took the benefit of that scent of yours. To smell the small strands of your hair behind the ear as he kept his eyes closed, waiting for an answer, but also holding in the strained hardness that flexed over his pants below.
His cock twitched with every breath of yours.
“Speak up, sweetheart.” He said roughly, not having the great ability to hold back, but your lack of answers were edging him. “We could answer all those assumptions about me in this,” with one hand he un-crumbled the list again and brought it to your eyes. “…list.”
He was silly, but the butterfly feeling between your legs at the moment said otherwise from his intense tease.
“You don’t wonder how my fingers,” Sebastian read off the list, rephrasing the jotted lines of girls handwriting. “…write so fast with a quill…imagine what else…” his hands journeyed to your hip, giving the first touch before tracking down your skirt. “…they can do?”
Your leg shifted in a twitch from the touch. He’d only rested the warmth of his finger a little below your skirt, into your skin, but you gasped at his words.
“‘His lips are so pink’” He read off. You could still feel his face near your ear, but he came back up and faced you. You’d been a flush of a mess, but Sebastian edged closer as he kept reading. “…how kissable are they?”
A menace. He was a fucking menace.
But he transferred the curiosity to you. You always found yourself wondering how soft his hairs really were. Or if his lips really were —
Sebastian gave up on the silence. His hands let go of the parchment and let it fall onto the floor. Before you could watch the fall of the list, you were blocked by a pair of lips on yours.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was all in frustration and force. Of wanting something that had been sitting for years. A breath-stealing kiss two parties yearned for enough to make a fair moan from just a kiss.
The one hand that held a list now cradled over the side of your face and a thumb brushed your cheek as you were grounded with a sloppy make-out session that both of you clearly ached for too long.
Sebastian kissed good. Dangerously good.
He held you captive over the wall, his tongue dancing over your own, guiding permission. His brows frowned, not from anger, but from how good kissing you felt. It was an ecstatic feel and it was just kissing.
You were in no help of a stop. Instead, your hands reached in an instinct, clutching at the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer. Your hands threading through those soft brown hairs everyone wondered about.
It was a hard study between heat and examination. You gripped the hairs, softer than ever — Sebastian groaned into your mouth from the pull and his fingers clutched the side of your hips from resisting.
They were, in fact, really soft.
Your back pressed the bed soon after. The make-out session on the wall quickly transferred back into your dormitory bed and with a soft thud, Sebastian threw you onto the pillow, making you reach for a breath.
“Oh, we’re not finished yet,” Sebastian warned huskily. “Everyone’s at Hogsmeade…and I’m here to prove my point.”
He dove back into your mouth with more need than before. The weight of his hand on the side of your hip found its way beneath your shirt, feeling the raw aspect of your stomach before scrunching it up.
Over grounded mouths, you’d often breathe heavier than usual when the air of the dormitory felt colder on your skin as Sebastian folded up your shirt above your chest and reached over a breast.
His finger traced the middle of your breast, purposely tickling you and triggering the hardness of your nipples. You both watched his actions and you flushed, wanting to return the invasion by bringing your hand downward over his pants and attempting to find his bulge.
He’d been hard and thick. You palmed him lightly, but it was a hard reach from his height to yours. You’d only been able to get a sense of what he hid behind the fabric and you could only now imagine how he would feel inside of you.
You weren’t always stuck in an inappropriate daze. There wasn’t shame in touching yourself in the quietest hours of the night in a bath or empty dormitory. It was easier than admitting how much you wanted him all those years when the sun was up and walls were closed.
But now it became difficult when Sebastian, the real Sebastian, pressed against you, kissing you like he’d been waiting for this too. To prove a point of a name.
The thought made your thighs want to press together again, to get the same heartbeat notion between your legs, but now, the body of Sebastian blocked it. You couldn’t press them and he noticed that.
“Open your legs,” Sebastian ordered, feeling your denial.
“I just—oh,”
He moved quickly, pressing the longness of his fingers under your skirt. His touch circled around the thin fabric of your underwear before pressing three fingers lightly over to feel the dampness outside of you.
“Sebastian,”
A breath hitched out of his mouth. He’d lost count of how many times his cock twitched, begging for an out as he found out how soaked you were for him. For him.
“Agh,” He said in satisfaction, almost amazed from the feel. “…they said they wondered what else these fingers,” you felt them nibble the bud of your clit, still with underwear on as he spoke over your whimpers. “…do besides writing fast.”
The touch was gentle, but so powerful. Sebastian had stopped kissing and now paid his full attention to his fingers beneath you, under your lifted wrinkled skirt he dragged up and watched his own fingers trigger your sensitive nerves even more.
And he felt how you clenched with each nub.
It felt humiliating. Humiliating to know that once his fingers moved your underwear to the side, he was going to feel how wet you’d been over the course of the hour. How with such an unnecessary proof of point, you exposed yourself too on your feelings.
“Merlin,” Sebastian fought over himself, not caring about his truth out loud. “I just want to bury myself inside of you like this, but…”
He didn’t say much after, and before you could question his denial need of fucking you, you gave a low whine when two fingers entered between your folds carefully, a slushy sound echoing over the ears from the arousal.
They’d been long. His fingers. Sebastian kept it slow and gentle, examining how far he could go with them. He lifted his head once wanting to see how you’ll react. You were already a beautiful mess, giving gentle moans and biting your lip constantly from his movements.
“…how can I when the sound of your pleasure brings lullabies to my ears,” Sebastian resisted, fingering you faster, “…my cock.”
A thumb reached the outside of your clit, rubbing slowly and you clenched much slowly, feeling the triggering effect of Sebastian learning what pace you moan louder from his fingers.
“Are they,” he would curl a finger inside of you for a ting of tease and you yelp as he spoke. “…really faster than a quill, hm?” He challenged.
What a provocative little shit.
You couldn’t even talk well to insult him. You’d been so lost in his pace that when he removed his fingers from you, a mushy sound electrified and you breathed.
Sebastian lifted over you, and with the small movement of that, you saw the outline of his cock fighting in his pants. His hands reached down his belt and he raised his eyes like a wild animal looking for prey as you watched him.
Embarrassed from catching you eyeing him, you felt colored again and looked away, giving the privacy of undoing himself, but only a bubble of a laugh threw you off.
“I recall someone scribbled,” Sebastian began to remind you of the list of assumptions as he pulled his pants down. “‘I wonder if his cock is as thick as his ego.’”
You kept looking at the opposite perspective, not wanting to see. Also, to hide the blush that crept over you from what he was saying. All you did was blink at the stupid window across the dormitory.
“Darling,” Sebastian threw a pet name on you for attention. He would sometimes throw them in over the years with a silly friendship thing, but now it sounded heavy and with direction.
You licked your lips, but then felt a hand weight down beside you. Your saliva lingered over your throat as you felt that Sebastian had finally hovered over you again, and once you turned around, he’d be right there.
“Don’t you,” You shivered feeling a few fingers trace your collarbone and down the buttons of your shirt, starting to undo them. “…want to know if is as thick as my ego?”
You let him undress you, but it took a good portion of seconds to gain the courage to turn your head at his nude body before yours.
Cock wasn’t the first thing you saw. It’d been his broad chest — the way his tanned skin vibrated perfectly on the freckles that stamped him. They weren’t only on his face, but they reached down his shoulders, onto his back. A few down his abdomen until you saw him.
He was big. You saw the outline, but now in a raw view, you swallowed from the veins that strained out of it. It stared at you, like a mind of its own and it clearly showed the wanting of Sebastian to you. His cock dripped with pre-cum and it twitched from its pink tip, prepared.
It became stupid when you felt the same familiar heartbeat between your legs again, despite him fingering you pleasurably, you wanted more. You wanted him.
“Hey—“
“Get inside me.” You begged.
By now, from the severe distraction of admiring Sebastian’s body, you’d been nude yourself from his help. The buttoned shirt you once wore had been hanging on the tip of another girl’s bed and you shivered.
You overthought your command, sounding needy and stupid. “I mean—“
Sebastian didn’t think twice about your needs. You felt his lips land on yours, but your once-sitting bodies now lay back down over the pillow. His hand sprawled over the side of your face as he went between your legs and played around himself.
You hummed, feeling his tip linger around the outside of your skin. It rubbed over your drenched cunt on its own as Sebastian kissed you passionately.
The temperature felt hotter as Sebastian brought a hand down under your bodies and eyed the moment before taking a glance at you. “Yes?”
“Please.” You closed your eyes.
Sebastian stared at you. In his head, it crossed that he watched you right now, waiting for you to start writing what none of those girls could ever, ever, write in that list.
He didn’t enter you gently.
His entrance was rough and within gasp, he shut his eyes, squeezing them — hoping for the best of his fucking ego to not cum in that very second as you clenched. “Fuck.”
Your nails dug into his back from the shift of his hips slamming into you and gasped loudly, having to break the kiss.
“F-Fuck…” Sebastian went out of you but kept his tip stuck in your entrance. “…I’m trying to be gentle, but—“
“You were proving a point, weren’t you?” You throw in.
It was a dangerous commitment. There wasn’t turning back on what you had said. To prove a point. Sebastian didn’t hesitate on your words and stood by his words.
He crawled his hand under your body, bucking it up a little before he plunged inside of you like a slap. You both gasped and then he began to fuck you endlessly as time depended on it.
His cock buried inside powerfully. Sebastian didn’t play. He would go deeper and deeper with every rapid thrust, wanting to angle himself perfectly to feel the depth of your cervix and mark himself enough for it to remember him forever.
He’d watched as the pretty little mouth of yours parted with each movement. How your breasts bounced perfectly beneath him and he’ll go back to watching himself thrust into you, in and out, deep and deeper, harder and rougher — oh, he loved it. He loved you.
Your moans and expression sent him over the edge. His goal was to satisfy you to bring your name into the list — but it was never really the stupid list. It was just you. His heart had always been on you. And to finally have you tied on him, finally, he wanted to prove all those lost times of just ‘being friends’.
“Oh,” You moaned.
“Y-You’re so…tight around me, you know?” He complimented, bending forward to caress your cheek with his thumb. “…I could feel you…pressing around — shit — my co-cock with each thrust.”
You did clench with each thrust. He’d been so thick and long, that you couldn’t help the feeling of hugging him inside your walls and keeping him there forever.
The bed made squeaking sounds over the dormitory. It was loud and if Sebastian kept the pace he was doing, the bed would most likely hit the wall across the room.
Neither of you could hear the bed as much as the squelching sounds of skin-to-skin in the air. The way Sebastian drilled into you as his balls slapped beneath your cunt over each motion making you whimper and moan.
But Sebastian became attentive to the noise of the small bed. Sure, he enjoyed your sounds, but his easily distracted mind didn’t allow him to enjoy it fully — so he cuffed you under his arms and carried you to the nearest wall again.
“Sebastian!” You gasped, feeling your back against the cold wall, but it was soon replaced by heated pleasure again as Sebastian pressed into you.
His chest rubbed over your breast as he held you tightly and made you bounce up and down over him on the wall. “Yes?”
One hand gripped your ass beneath you for a force and the other hand of his rested flatly beside you on the wall, using it as a control to keep himself in balance and submerge every inch inside of you.
You’d won over the list. That list that you’d convinced yourself that with all these girls wanting Sebastian Sallow, your chances would lower — but you’d been wrong. Super wrong.
“D-Do you know…” Sebastian breathed, bringing his forehead against yours. Your breaths were heavy and his sweaty hairs touched yours. “-how long I waited to do this with you?”
You gave a half-laugh half-gasp at his honesty over the sex. You were both sweaty, but as your head bobbed over each other, you couldn’t help, but kiss again, passionately.
“But,” Your body took a freeze when Sebastian let you down and turned you around to the nearest dresser, the same one you were indeed dying to look for your coin pouch. “I feel like I haven’t proven enough…”
He bent you gently, letting your hands grip the edges of the small dresser before he inserted himself from behind.
The sex became rougher.
You felt how Sebastian twirled his fingers over your hair like a ponytail and used it as a control to inject his cock back inside of you harder. He’d watch as your behind bounced with each pump and whimper from his actions.
his voice?? His moans are probably so deep. Someone had written on the list.
They were deep.
His moans were deep.
His cock was deep.
His words were deep.
“Oh, yes,” He’d moan over your ear. “Perfect.”
You’ll clench and he’ll let out rough groans, synchronizing with your moans.
“Oh yeah.” You murmured.
Sebastian didn’t think he’d get harder than he already was, but your sounds bricked him awfully. He’d often had to think about clown suits or Prewett dressed as a banana to keep himself going a little longer, but that just fucked his mind.
As he took you from the back, he leaned forward, moving strands of hairs from one side of your neck and becoming a sucking machine on you. He sucked your shoulder, up to your neck, and when you raised your head to see his actions, he found your mouth, clumsily kissing you.
The kisses became lazier and the movement became aggressive. You’d known that if Sebastian kept the pace he was going in right now, you’d reach an orgasm. More if his hand moved into your clit and rubbed it.
“P-Please…” You begged.
“Please, what?” He struggled. “Tell me…tell me what do you want, sweetheart?” He breathed, his voice blending with the slamming sounds.
There wasn’t an ability to talk. Instead, you responded to the hot breath vibrating near your ear before your head spun and met in a desperate kiss with Sebastian. Tongues tangled frantically and a hand of his snaked over your sweat-licked bodies.
His hand lowered and you tucked your stomach, feeling a steady rub of circles over your clit. Sebastian had read you well, determined to push you on edge with him.
“Was pinning you like this,” Sebastian hissed. “-w-worth it?”
The man had proved his point. From how ecstatic he made you feel right now, you were set to write your signature big and bolded over the fucking list. Hell, you’d even highlight it with your reasonings, but the idea of other women knowing how good Sebastian Sallow fucked didn’t allow you.
Perhaps, you had to make another secret list with him only knowing now.
“Yes, yes,” You pleaded.
With pleads and moans, Sebastian felt his cock draw up tightly, balls clenching as he signaled a finish.
It was chaotically messy. A disheveled moment of both of you reaching a coarse point with curses and final moans.
It was planted that you weren’t going to be able to walk for a while after Sallow’s moves. He made sure he gave his all to you in a short amount of time and you couldn’t envision how he would act in a normal setting of sex.
You found yourself like one of the girls on the list. Wondering with curiosity — if he fucks that good in sneaking minutes, how would he be with all the time in the world?
“Well,” Sebastian tilted minutes later, fully clothed, picking up the list that had fallen to the floor. A small tugging smile crept on him as he held it up to you, all sweaty and all. “—I’m sure you have a lot to say for this list, don’t you?”
His eyes peered on yours. He wanted a definite yes answer to it. The satisfaction of you admitting he pleasured you so well, you wanted to put yourself on this list.
Half-tiredly, your fingers conjured a pen over him, and the list was snatched from his hold before you brought it down to a flat surface on the wall and began to sign.
You made sure your name was big and bolded at the bottom, enough for anyone to see. Sebastian watched with you.
He’s HUGE and he’s mine.
He became flustered at the scribble but didn’t complain. He looked down, smiling to himself like he won the lottery of some sort.
“This list though,” You murmured, making it poof away with your magic. “Would only be visible to me and you now, Sallow.”
Sebastian gave a humming noise at your demanding tone. “Hm, yeah?”
Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, language); all characters are 18+
Words: ~6,400
Tags: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, mutual pining, smut, sexual exploration
⬅️ Read Part I
Notes: I'm alive! I am so, so sorry it took me so long to write this! Work has been kicking my ass lately, but I deeply appreciate everyone who has read this -- it's been a blast to write!
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
Sleep was futile. You tossed and turned for hours, but the more you squeezed your eyes shut, the more you found yourself clamping your thighs together in quiet agony. The thoughts of what Sebastian had done to you – done for you – replayed on a loop until your core ached for more.
You buried your face in your pillow with half the mind to smother yourself. Except you weren’t seeking death. If anything, you felt like you’d been enlightened to a new reason worth living. Perhaps most people would deem that silly and dramatic, but they hadn’t felt what you had.
You swallowed, your forehead hot and hair plastered to your face as you thought about Sebastian – the way his fingers pressed patterns of pulsing pleasure into your flesh; the way his calm eyes met yours in the mirror’s reflection with quiet determination; the way his attention remained entirely on you.
Your crush on your best friend had always been anything but that. You merely told yourself it was a meaningless flame that would surely falter the moment you left Hogwarts and met new men full of worldly experience. But in truth, you’d been fatally in love with Sebastian Sallow since you were fifteen. And now that he’d grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to a secret alcove of ecstasy you never thought you’d explore, your ties to Sebastian were much tighter than the loose threads of mere puppy love. He’d looped an invisible noose around your neck that would surely suffocate you if he strayed too far from you now.
Simply put, you knew whatever this was you’d embarked on with Sebastian would surely land you in a cage of hopeless desperation, but you were in far too deep to flee.
By the time breakfast finally started the following morning, you practically had to sit on your own hands to keep from fidgeting.
Ominis sensed your restless behavior the moment he sat down across from you.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his tone sharp with concern.
“I’m fine,” you mumbled into your morning eggs. “Just tired.”
“Tired? Then why are you acting like you’ve had ten cups of tea? You can hardly sit still.”
“Just have a lot going on is all,” you said with a shrug. “You know, exams approaching and whatnot.”
“Since when do you care about exams?” Ominis pushed. “You’ve already got your spot secured with the Ministry Auror apprenticeship.”
“Yes, I know,” you huffed. “But it never hurts to put a little effort in.”
“Put a little effort into what?” Your head snapped up as Sebastian took the seat next to you. Your spine became rigid and you held your breath, your eyes absolutely fascinated by your breakfast plate.
“A little effort into my studies,” you answered with as much nonchalance as you could manage.
Sebastian’s eyes glinted with amusement, not that you could see them as your gaze remained cast downward. “Studying?” he laughed. “What are you concerned about studying for?”
“She said it’s making her jittery,” Ominis added. You glared daggers at him, undeterred by the fact he couldn’t see them.
“Jittery?” Sebastian repeated. “Since when does anything make you anxious?”
“Since when does my interest in schoolwork concern either of you?” you challenged.
“Everything you do concerns us,” Sebastian said. “That’s how this works.”
You prayed he didn’t see the flush that was surely sprawling from your neck to your cheeks. His casual, confident demeanor set you even more on edge. How could he be so carefree after the things he’d done to you yesterday?
Of course, for you, that was all foreign and new. But for Sebastian, you had to assume it was another standard Sunday. Maybe it hadn’t really mattered to him.
“Don’t forget about detention tonight,” Sebastian said with a mouthful of pastry. “We’re to meet Professor Weasley in the Trophy Room.”
“The Trophy Room?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Who knows, maybe she wants to reward us for being upstanding, model students.”
—
By the time you met Sebastian at the top of the staircase to the Trophy Room at 7 p.m., Professor Weasley was already waiting for you. She stood with her hands behind her back, her eyes serious as she watched you approach.
“Good evening,” she said with a neutral tone. You knew she was annoyed at you and Sebastian for behaving like degenerates, but you also knew the two of you were among her favorite students. She wouldn’t stay cross with you for long.
“Good evening, Professor,” you both chorused.
“The two of you will spend the evening polishing the trophies in each case – without magic,” Professor Weasley said, adding extra emphasis at the end of her sentence. “I surmise you’re both capable of that task?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“And I trust the two of you will resist any temptation for additional indiscretions?”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Good. Now I have some matters to tend to, but I’ll check on you in a couple of hours. And please keep your voices down. Headmaster Black is currently away in London, but I trust you two will be quiet anyway.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Good. I’ll leave you to it then.”
You watched in silence as she retreated toward the Grand Staircase. Now very aware that you and Sebastian were alone for the first time since the previous day’s activities in the Undercroft, you made a beeline toward the bucket of polish and rags Professor Weasley had left. Perhaps if you pretended to be unbothered, it would come true.
“What are you doing?” Sebastian mused. He leaned with his back to the frame of the entrance archway, his arms folded across his chest. You could feel his eyes clinging to you while you began to wonder why it was abnormally hot in the Trophy Room.
“I’m polishing trophies,” you deadpanned, still avoiding his stare.
“And why are you doing that?”
“Because I don’t want to spend another evening in detention, you prat. Now help me so we can get this done and over with.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“Those are famous last words,” you muttered as you began polishing a trophy inside the quidditch cabinet. You didn’t need to face Sebastian to know he was smirking at you.
“Come on,” he said. “Surely there are better things we could be doing.”
Your heart crept into your throat. You knew where this was going. You were inching toward another point of no return. And you knew you wouldn’t stop yourself.
“And what would you rather be doing?” you asked, finally turning your head to look at Sebastian.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled. “Lots of things. Perhaps what we did yesterday?”
You tore your gaze from him, your blush surely giving you away.
“Sebastian…” you warned.
“What?” he quipped innocently.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“How so? Or are you no longer interested in my services?”
“Your services?” you snorted. “What are you, a street harlot?”
“Depends, are you offering payment?” You hurled your rag at him and he laughed. “Okay, okay, fine,” he continued. “No payment necessary. But I still think we should take advantage of these extra hours of free time.”
“It’s not free time, Seb,” you noted. “And if Professor Weasley catches us, we’ll never see freedom again.”
“Then we won’t let her catch us,” Sebastian said simply. Before you could realize it, he was stepping toward you. You stilled, breath held deep in your lungs as he lingered in front of you.
You silently screamed at him to touch you, in any way, shape or form he wanted. Instead, you gazed at him with a pointed stare, challenging him to act. It was your only defense to keep yourself from making an absolute, utter fool of yourself.
Sebastian’s hands snaked their way around your waist to the small of your back before he leaned in. You could smell aftershave, his arms tugging you closer until your head rested against his chest. Now, you were torn between wanting to linger in the safe warmth of his embrace and the desire to wrestle him to the floor to climb on top of him.
“We don’t have to if you really don’t want to,” he murmured in your ear. “Honestly, just tell me if… if you want yesterday to be a one-time thing.”
Sebastian was wasting his breath. You didn’t need an out, nor did you need any persuading. But you weren’t going to tell him that.
“But what if we get caught?”
“We won’t get caught,” Sebastian insisted. You could feel his fingers pressing into the small of your back, and the sudden realization that he wanted you, too, hit you with stunning force.
You’d spent your entire friendship thinking your connection to Sebastian would never breach the confines of platonic; kindred spirits, maybe even friendly flirtation, but certainly never anything of a physical nature. You’d begrudgingly convinced yourself that Sebastian was blind to your sexual nature. After all, plenty of your classmates expressed desire for you, but Sebastian never seemed to sneak so much as a double-take.
But now, Sebastian’s eyes were feasting on you as if you were the first sexual being he’d ever seen.
The heat that had been slowly sprawling over your facial features now descended into your stomach, inching lower until you could feel it scalding between your thighs. You pinched them together, but the pressure only made the ache worse.
Sebastian, sensing your discomfort, lifted an eyebrow at you. “Alright?” he asked. You merely nodded in response, afraid the pitch of your voice would expose your anticipation. Sebastian moved even closer, until his body was pressing flush with yours. Your breath hitched when you felt his erection prodding your stomach.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he hummed in your ear. Goosebumps peppered the skin of your arms. The bulge pressed against your belly felt... substantial.
Sebastian slowly backed you toward the trophy case until you were pressed against the glass display. His eyes locked on yours, wild yet in control, as if he was testing the waters, reading how far you’d let him go. When you didn’t break his gaze, he leaned in to kiss you.
If you hadn’t been a goner before this, you certainly were now. Your heart rattled against your ribcage and you became spineless in Sebastian’s arms. He’d rendered you into submission and he’d barely touched you.
When Sebastian deepened the kiss, your arms tightened around his neck, shamelessly seeking more. He obliged you, his tongue finding your bottom lip and his hand tangling itself in your hair. Somewhere, beneath the blurred lines of an evolving friendship, you felt affection. Your mind raced until your head spun and your lungs burned for air. When you finally forced your lips free from Sebastian’s, he smirked at you.
“Ready for something even better than yesterday?” he mewed in your ear.
Sebastian wasn’t one to make promises he couldn’t keep. And that’s what made your current situation even more dizzying – and thrilling.
His lips met your neck with careful deliberation, pressing swift kisses while his hands roamed your waist. The cool glass of the trophy case against your back contrasted the scorching heat between your bodies, but Sebastian’s hands wandered lower, skimming the tops of your thighs beneath your skirt.
His fingertips grazed your skin until the heat between your legs was impossible to ignore. He rubbed the fabric guarding your entrance and you whimpered in desperation for more.
You thought he’d tease you, take his time with you. After all, Sebastian had always been a cheeky son-of-a-bitch, especially when it came to you.
But as he fell to his knees in front of you, you gasped when he shoved the hem of your skirt upward, pinning it against your stomach while he pinned you against the glass. He pulled your panties to the side and you couldn’t withhold a moan when his tongue met your clit.
“Fuck, Seb,” you hissed as the pressure increased. Your hands tangled in his hair, the scant remnants of your self-control keeping you from pulling too hard. Your hips rolled forward and your exhales became quick, short puffs.
You always thought you hated every girl who had the privilege to discover Sebastian in this way. But now, you silently thanked the universe for his experience and expertise.
Broken moans escaped your lips between your panting. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back against the glass, your fingertips pressing against Sebastian’s scalp. Your woozy head became a black hole of filthy thoughts and shameless greed, desperate to discover more.
Sebastian’s hand kept your skirt hem raised above his head, his forearm pinning you against the trophy case as his tongue prodded your clit.
If Professor Weasley were to return, the primal sounds echoing across the room would expose you immediately. But you weren’t thinking about Professor Weasley right now, and you sure as hell weren’t in a state of mind to consider decorum. The only thing coursing through your mind was the bliss blooming within your walls.
When you finally managed to open your eyes and tilt your head forward to look at Sebastian, you were alarmed to find him staring upward at you. Pride glimmered in his eyes and you couldn’t fault him for it, given the pitiful uncontrolled sounds spilling from your lips.
“You taste so fucking good,” Sebastian murmured against your flesh. He sucked against your clit and you unleashed a sharp gasp. You’d never experienced that before and you could feel the muscles tensing in the backs of your thighs.
“Oh god,” you moaned to encourage him. He received the message and continued, his lips pulling and tongue flicking, until your eyes began to water from the searing sensation mounting within your nerve endings. It was all new to you, and had it not felt so fucking good, you might have been concerned for yourself. Sure, Sebastian had shown you your first orgasm just the previous day, but this – this was more intense than you thought possible.
The pressure became damn near painful as you squeezed your eyes shut again, your back arching off the glass as a desperate hum vibrated from your throat. You bucked your hips forward, begging Sebastian to grant you the privilege of more pleasure.
His tongue flattened against your clit and rolled, triggering the response you’d been willing to risk everything for. You heaved a sharp wail as your cunt convulsed, forcing a current of ecstasy through your body. It nearly forced you to your knees, had Sebastian not been holding you upright. His tongue worked you through your release, pressing and prodding your surging entrance until he hummed at the taste.
You ground your hips against him one last time to prolong the moment until your body finally slackened, leaving you slumped against the trophy case without a coherent thought. Sebastian, still resting on his knees, smirked upward at you.
“How was that?” he asked.
Your brain couldn’t quite compute the words, so you merely issued a soft whimper that made Sebastian bark a smug laugh. He released your skirt hem and rose to his feet, looming over you so he could press his erection against your stomach again.
“Have I earned some repayment yet?” he rasped in your ear, one hand pressed against the glass above your head so he could lean closer. You nodded.
“Anything you want,” you whispered.
“Anything?” he asked, pulling away to gaze at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Anything.” You were sure. You trusted Sebastian enough to know he wouldn’t demand too much, but knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be afraid to ask for what he wanted.
Sebastian studied your eyes until you felt faint. He seemed to be searching your gaze for some sort of confirmation or hint. His eyes lingered and you swallowed the urge to tell him you’d worship him to the grave if he asked.
“I want you to be mine,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. Your lungs emptied instantly. It wasn’t the request you’d been expecting.
“Wh-what?” Your vision rattled back into alert focus, your mind sharpening at his words.
“I want you to be mine,” Sebastian repeated. “Mine and only mine.”
“How… how so?”
“Just you and me. No one else.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
You were terrified to continue staring into his eyes, convinced he'd be able to read them and learn every secret about himself you'd kept under lock and key. But you were also fearful of looking away, as if breaking eye contact would sever the moment you’d seen only in your daydreams. But you had to be sure.
“You mean as in us… being together?” you asked carefully.
“Yes.”
This was not how you’d expected your detention to turn out. You wanted to say something impressively witty and painstakingly clever, something that would prove to Sebastian this would all be worthwhile, that you were the one and only being he should ever bother with.
But all you could manage was a soft, “Okay,” though your hushed tone was a steep contrast to the screaming jubilation ringing in your skull. You wanted to fall to your knees in relief, or jump up and down in celebration. Instead, you waited for Sebastian to decide what would come next. Little did you know it would be you — again.
Sebastian didn’t say anything more. Instead, he used the soft moment to kiss you, first with gentle adoration, followed quickly by charged intensity. He pressed his body into yours, as if he were trying to prove how much he needed you. But as his kisses became more urgent, the sudden intrusion of footsteps approaching forced you apart.
You whirled toward the doorway just as Duncan Hobhouse wandered into the trophy room.
“Hobhouse,” Sebastian sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“Could ask the two of you the same question,” Duncan retorted with narrowed eyes.
“We’re serving a quick little detention,” Sebastian answered. “Meaning the Trophy Room’s closed for cleaning, so you can be on your way.”
“Detention my arse,” Duncan sneered. “The two of you were clearly having a snog.”
“Might want to get your glasses checked, Hobhouse,” Sebastian continued. “We’re merely cleaning the trophies like upstanding students committed to completing our detention and learning our moral lesson.” Even you had to bite back a snort.
“Really,” Duncan deadpanned. “And that’s why there’s a handprint on the glass above your heads? Perhaps I’ll just tell Professor Weasley that you missed a spot.”
“What are you doing here, Duncan?” you interjected with an annoyed sigh.
“I came to check on some old awards for special services to the school,” Duncan replied.
“They don’t hand out awards for being the school’s biggest bigot, if that’s what you’re aspiring toward,” you noted.
“Yeah? How about an award for being the school’s biggest slag? You’ll take top honors.”
Sebastian made a move toward Duncan, ready to throttle him with his bare hands, but you were quicker with your wand. “Petrificus totalus!”
Duncan’s limbs snapped rigid and you watched in silence as he toppled to the floor, stiff as a board. Sebastian cackled with glee.
“We ought to shag right next to him,” he said as he approached Duncan to leer downward at him.
“He’d probably like it too much,” you said, glaring daggers at the boy on the floor. You fished Duncan’s wand from his robes and secured it with your own.
“Too true,” Sebastian agreed. “Besides, you’re mine now. No one else gets to have a look.”
Your cheeks flushed as he reached for you and hooked an arm around your waist. It was a simple gesture that you hoped would become as routine as afternoon tea, but in that moment, it felt as if everything was changing in a flurry of thrill and adrenaline. Your self-control and propriety were waning.
“Come on,” you said, reaching for Sebastian’s hand. Another simple gesture that felt wild and bold to you, new and unchartered despite the unchaste actions that had just occurred in the Trophy Room.
You tossed one final look of disgust at Duncan before leading Sebastian toward the rear doorway of the Trophy Room, through the gate and up the stairs. Once you dragged him through the winding hallway and toward the next staircase, Sebastian let out a low whistle.
“Wait a minute,” he said, though he allowed you to continue guiding him up the steps. “We’re not headed where I think we are…”
You tossed him a smug glance. “You heard Professor Weasley,” you said. “Headmaster Black’s gone for the night.”
“But we can’t just…”
It was rare that you ever rendered Sebastian speechless and you were reveling in the moment. “Assuming he hasn’t changed the password – and he hasn’t in the last few years,” you said slyly.
“This is bold, even for me,” Sebastian said as you approached the stone gargoyle.
He wasn’t wrong. While you and Sebastian had no reservations when it came to bending a few rules (and maybe committing an accidental homicide), you were both typically smart enough to color within the lines. You only strayed from them when it felt necessary. And breaking into Black’s office had only been necessary that one time.
But you decided if you and Sebastian were going to take the plunge into the wild unknown of romance, you might as well make it memorable. Maybe, you thought, you’d look back at this with fondness one day. And even if you didn’t, even if you failed and you and Sebastian became a burning wreckage of destruction and debris, at least you could say the two of you were anything but boring.
“Toujours pur,” you said confidently, smiling as the enchanted gargoyle began to spin. You glanced sideways at Sebastian, who was giving you wide eyes. “Scared?” you teased.
Sebastian shook his head. “Of course not,” he answered. You could see right through him.
“We’ll just have a quick look, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Sebastian followed you up the spiral stairs until you reached Headmaster Black’s office. You watched Sebastian gaze around the office, eyes glinting with familiar mischief as he observed the surroundings. He strode toward Black’s desk, pausing to examine various trinkets and statues along the way. When he reached the desk, curiously eyeing various sheets of parchment scattered across the top, you noticed his trousers were still straining over his erection.
You subconsciously licked your bottom lip. You genuinely — honest and swear to God — hadn't planned on defiling the headmaster's office that night, but your weeks as a Hogwarts student were winding now and you figured such an opportunity wouldn't arise again. Not to mention you were desperate to seal your fate with Sebastian.
You strolled casually toward the desk, your arms folded as you studied the ceiling with faux interest. When you returned your eyes downward, you realized Sebastian’s were fixated on you.
“About that reward,” he purred as he backed you toward the desk. It seemed his hesitations had vanished.
Once the backs of your thighs met the desk’s edge, you chewed your bottom lip in anticipation. Sebastian flashed his canines.
You held your breath as he reached for the buttons of your blouse. His fingers worked methodically until your shirt fell open, exposing your bra and bare midriff. He leaned in to kiss you, his hands guiding your shirt off in the process.
The office air was cool and dim, but Sebastian’s lips seemed to sizzle against your skin as he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your neck. His hands were just as hot as they snaked toward your back to unclasp your bra. As soon as it opened, Sebastian was tossing it aside with your blouse.
You couldn’t help but avert your bashful eyes as he examined your half-nude form. You weren’t sure why you felt shy, given he’d seen you much more intimately just below in the Trophy Room, but as his hand cupped your breast, your anxiety fizzled.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he hissed as he pressed a thumb against your nipple. “Can’t wait to finally make you come on my cock.”
You whimpered in response. You’d always assumed Sebastian was bold and brash when it came to bedroom behavior, but hearing it directed at you was more arousing than anything you'd heard from other boys.
It became clear Sebastian was tired of touching your clothed form. He quickly tugged at the hem of your skirt and wrestled it from your hips, leaving you in only your panties until those also found the marble floor.
“This isn’t fair,” you protested, eyeing Sebastian’s fully-clothed frame. You felt like prey presented on a pedestal for a predator.
“And whose fault is that?” he teased as he held his arms outward. “I’m not stopping you.”
You rolled your eyes in response and made a move for the hem of his jumper, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. You stilled. Sure, you’d seen Sebastian shirtless on a few summer afternoons of swimming, but you never thought you’d have the chance to touch his bare chest. Your stare clung to his toned arms and chest, and you couldn’t help but smile at the freckles that scattered across his skin. Someday, you’d take the time to familiarize yourself with those constellations, but not now. Now, you were far too greedy for such sweet moments.
“Seb,” you whined. “I need you. I need you to show me how it feels... how you feel.”
Sebastian was overcome by a warm flood of energy. His hands snapped to your waist and he hoisted you onto the desk, your legs dangling off the ledge as he fidgeted with his belt. When it clanked open, you reached for his waistband, shoving everything to the floor.
The ache within your core blazed when his cock bobbed against your thigh. You shifted impatiently atop the desk, your cunt still wet from your antics in the Trophy Room.
You were a viper ready to sink your teeth into sustenance.
But you had to touch him, to know how his smooth length felt in your hand. You reached for him and stroked slowly, the pads of your fingers tracing over every ridge. Sebastian swore under his breath at your touch. You wished you could leave fingerprints over his flesh.
Sebastian’s own fingers found their way between your thighs and swiped across your entrance. He groaned at the feeling of your wet folds and sank two fingers inside you.
“Sebastian,” you moaned, unsure if you were relieved by his touch or annoyed he was only offering you his fingers when you were desperate for more. But when he pumped his hand, you decided you’d never doubt him again.
You rested back on your hands to support yourself, your walls clenching around Sebastian’s fingers, anxious to incite another release. By now, you were certain you’d only ever experience such a sensation with him. You didn’t want it from anyone else anyway.
When he withdrew his hand, you pouted in protest. He sucked his fingers and smirked at you, eyes shining with anticipation.
“Don’t pout, darling,” Sebastian laughed. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”
He leaned over you, hands flat atop the desk on either side of your hips while he kissed you. And while you appreciated Sebastian’s tender side, you were certain you were going to spontaneously combust if he didn’t splay you out across that desk soon.
Your thighs tightened around his torso and you could feel him smirk against your lips.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he teased.
“And you’re being insufferable,” you whined.
“I’m sorry, darling,” Sebastian cooed. “Let’s make you feel good, shall we?”
Before you could agree, Sebastian was prying your knees apart and lining his cock against your entrance. You held your breath, every nerve ending on high alert for this climactic moment. He sank into you with an impressive air of self-restraint. You felt impossibly tight at first and willed your body to relax to accommodate him.
“Fucking hell, you’re tight,” he groaned.
You wanted to pause the moment, to freeze time to appreciate this monumental step in your timeline with Sebastian. It had been three years in the making; three years of tension, longing and torment. It meant something to you both.
But now wasn't the time for sappy sentiments or histrionics. Now, all you wanted was to claim Sebastian Sallow as the keeper of your entire being.
He pressed deeper until a low moan escaped your lips. It seemed to reassure him and he pulled back, his cock dragging against your stretched walls slowly. He repeated the motion until he was thrusting you gently, testing your limits until he reached the hilt. Blood rushed to your ears, ringing a loud and intrusive symphony as your pulse raced. Your cunt felt so full, you gnawed at your bottom lip.
Soon, you were resting back on your elbows as Sebastian gripped your hips. He drove inside you with a steady rhythm, hands holding you in place on the desktop.
“God, you’re so good,” Sebastian panted. When you moaned in response, his pace hastened. His hips jutted forward with more force until you were flat on your back, breasts bouncing with every movement and legs locked around Sebastian's torso. Parchment rustled beneath you and quills pricked your back, but you paid them no mind. The only sensation you could feel was the mounting pressure within your walls.
Sebastian groaned at the vision of your cunt swallowing his slick cock. He'd conjured the sight in quiet solitude, but no fantasy could replicate the squeeze of your tight heat or the submissive whimpers tumbling from your lips.
It was surely the most obscene display to ever occur within the walls of the sacred headmaster’s office; you, sprawled across the desktop, your mouth hanging open in ecstasy while Sebastian fucked you harder than you’d ever experienced.
Your hitching gasps were soon joined by the steady symphony of slapping skin when Sebastian pulled your legs together, hugging them against his own shoulder as he pounded you harder.
“That’s it,” he panted above you as your toes curled and walls squeezed at the change in angle. You were most certainly going to be sore in the morning, but you’d commit every Unforgivable Curse a hundred times over before you allowed this to stop. Not before you discovered how it felt to fall apart around Sebastian.
The crude noises echoing from your union could only be rivalved by the absolute filth spilling off your tongue. You begged Sebastian to fuck you harder, treat you rougher, all while you used the name of every spiritual power in vulgar vain. Sebastian Sallow was the only higher power you cared to worship anyway.
Sebastian gazed at you, half-lidded, with lust and love. Your moans became short wails as his cock drove upward, prodding the sensitive spot within your front wall. You could hear your body’s slick response.
“Don’t stop,” you begged. “Don’t ever stop.”
“Don’t plan to,” Sebastian panted. “You’re mine, remember?”
“Yours,” you answered, your voice a broken stutter. Your nails scraped against the top of the wood desk, your body growing more rigid as you willed it to release. You’d never been so full, and your stretched walls were strained around Sebastian’s cock, threatening to seize.
He pumped faster, his jaw clenched in concentration while you quivered and writhed beneath him. The pressure was blooming within your core, and you felt the knot inside you ready to unravel.
“Seb, I think I’m close,” you breathed. It was more of a plea than a warning.
Sebastian dropped your legs, allowing them to drape over the edge of the desk again as his hands returned to your hips. He pulled himself hard against you until he found another rhythmic pattern, his hips rolling forward as his thumb found your clit. You gasped in response to the dual sensations, your cunt constricting around Sebastian’s cock in preparation for your release.
Your chest heaved and your moans became louder as Sebastian drove inside you, his thumb swiping at your clit until you were screaming his name. He dabbed his cock upward, pressing firmly into your sweet spot.
With a shrill shriek, your back arched and your legs spasmed, your walls pulsing with your climax. You thrashed against the desktop as your cunt surged and Sebastian continued to thrust you through your grand finale. Your eyes saw spots until the quivering within your walls calmed.
But the vision triggered Sebastian’s own unraveling. He yanked your hips flush with his as he grunted and spilled inside you, his fingers pressing firm into your sides with every pulse until his knees threatened to give out.
As the office drifted back into focus, you gazed upward at the ceiling, in disbelief of what you had just done, but more stunned that you’d done it with Sebastian. But he was yours now, and the notion that your future together now held much more possibility made you positively giddy. You blinked up at him with heavy eyelids, your head still spinning in a post-orgasm haze as you watched him with adoration.
He smirked at you and extended a hand to help you from the desk. You slid to your feet and began gathering your clothing when you felt his arms latch around you from behind.
“Hold on now,” he hummed in your ear. “You’re okay, right?”
You spun to face him, the corners of your lips tugging upward in an amused smile. “Sebastian, I can barely stand upright after the way... the way my legs were shaking. How could I be anything other than okay?” you laughed. Sebastian looked satisfied with himself. Typically, you’d say something snarky, perhaps shove him away with playful banter to knock his ego down a few notches. But right now, you were too smitten, too elated to be anything but authentically, unequivocally exhilarated.
“Just checking,” Sebastian said with a shrug, one of his fingers twirling a lock of your hair. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, but it felt entirely different. Now, it meant something.
“We should get out of here,” you finally said, your eyes scanning the office once more.
“Oh? I was starting to grow fond of the place,” Sebastian mused. “Was thinking we could spend the night in Black’s bed chamber.”
“Try explaining that one to Professor Weasley.”
“She’d probably resign on the spot.”
The two of you hurried from the office and returned to the Trophy Room, where Duncan was still on the floor. Sebastian glanced at his pocket watch and flicked his wand. “Scourgify.” The trophies and their display cases sparkled.
You moved to fetch one of the cleaning rags you’d left on the floor when Sebastian caught your arm. “Just so we’re clear,” he started, “We… you and I… Are we…”
“Not backing out on me now, are you?” you teased.
“No!” Sebastian said quickly. “I just… wanted to be sure this is all real.”
“Sebastian,” you deadpanned. “My undergarments are ruined, I’m fairly certain I have quill marks on my back, and I’m certain I won’t be able to walk come morning. So yes, this is very real.”
"But you and I... we're..." He rubbed the back of his neck and you couldn't help but smirk at his discomfort. "We're more than friends now, right?"
"Do mere friends do what we just did?"
"I mean, some do."
"Well, I happen to be a lady of honor and dignity," you said matter-of-factly, drawing a snort from Sebastian. "And I don't do those things without a little commitment."
"Believe me, I'm all yours."
"Good."
Sebastian looked delighted, but before he could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the corridor.
“Goodness!” Professor Weasley exclaimed as she scurried toward Duncan. “What happened?”
You and Sebastian swapped a glance. “There you are, Professor!” Sebastian exclaimed, his voice feigning urgency. “We were just about to come looking for you!”
“What have you done to Mr. Hobhouse?”
“We didn’t have a choice!” Sebastian insisted innocently. You clenched your jaw to suppress a laugh. Even after years of witnessing Sebastian’s charm and charisma, you were still impressed. “Duncan was trying to sneak through the Trophy Room. Tried to bribe us to keep quiet. Said something about sneaking into Professor Black’s office! We were going to come find you to let you know, but we didn’t want him to get away so we used Petrificus Totalus. I'm sorry, Professor!”
You prayed your face wasn’t flushed from fighting to maintain your composure. Professor Weasley’s sharp gaze shifted from Sebastian to you, and you immediately wore an expression of faux concern.
“And did Mr. Hobhouse say why he was trying to enter the headmaster’s office?” she asked.
“No, Professor,” you said, offering your own air of innocence. Though you weren’t as silver-tongued as Sebastian, you’d certainly learned a thing or two from him. “He was mumbling some nonsense about looking for a book of student names? Said something about wanting to ensure only purebloods would be admitted to Hogwarts. I’ve no idea what he was referring to.”
Professor Weasley’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Book of Admittance. You made a mental note to explain to Sebastian later how you'd once stumbled upon it as you caught his eye and he shot you a confused frown.
“I see,” Professor Weasley said slowly. She turned to look at Duncan, who was still motionless on the floor. “That is a very serious offense, Mr. Hobhouse. You’ll be serving a month of detention, and the headmaster will be made aware of this. As for you two, you’re free to go.”
“Goodnight, Professor,” you and Sebastian said in unison, too smart to linger any longer. Sebastian winked at Duncan as you passed his lifeless form and retreated toward the staircase.
“Hope we didn’t leave any evidence in Black’s office,” Sebastian muttered quietly as you continued downward. “Hobhouse will surely try to spin his own tale once Weasley removes the body-bind spell.”
“Oh, I might have left something behind,” you said with a smirk. Sebastian turned to look at you in panicked alarm and you unleashed a flippant giggle.
“Don’t worry,” you assured him. “We’re in the clear.”
“Then what’d you leave behind?”
You flashed Sebastian a proud grin. “Duncan’s wand.”
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Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
Summary: “Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”
Alternatively summarized as you try getting Sebastian's undivided attention by making him jealous, but he doesn't take too kindly to your methods...
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, Auror!Sebastian Sallow, Unspeakable!MC, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism
Ahem... whatever this is, it's up on Ao3
There was no mistaking the murderous glint in Sebastian’s eyes as he dragged you through the hallway towards his office. Some Ministry workers stared, their eyes wide with alarm as the Auror manhandled you along behind him. Others whispered, because it wasn’t everyday that an Unspeakable such as yourself found themselves being bullied so brazenly. Everyone could see clear as day that something was going on between the two of you.
But no one dared to move. No one wanted to risk piercing the suffocating silence that emanated from Sebastian. His pounding footsteps were louder than any verbal form of fury, anyway.
It didn’t surprise you that he was acting like this. What he had seen you and your colleague discussing was important; top secret, official Ministry business that you were sworn to keep secret. Any information pertaining to the Veil in the Death Chamber was strictly prohibited from being reiterated outside of the Department of Mysteries. So when your fiancé had walked into the main hall of your workplace and spotted you and a coworker hunched over a table together– shoulder to shoulder and murmuring in low voices– of course his first reaction had been to get territorial.
This was Sebastian Sallow, after all. He had never been the sharing sort, especially not when it came to you.
You and your colleague clamming up upon his arrival probably hadn’t helped you look any less guilty, but that was what you’d been counting on. Besides, what choice did you have? The topic of discussion was classified. Your fiancé of six months knew that you weren’t at liberty to discuss your work– not like he could as an Auror.
Still, that hadn’t stopped him from wordlessly yanking you away from your poor, terrified associate. Sebastian hadn’t made a noise the entire time he hauled you behind him through the Ministry towards the Auror offices.
The door plaque with his name on it glinted mockingly as the man shoved it open, pulling you inside quickly before shutting it with a resounding boom. Before you could so much as blink, Sebastian had you shoved against his desk, pulling a gasp from your throat and sending a litany of parchment and other trinkets clattering to the ground. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess.
No, he was too busy glaring at you as he peeled his coat from his shoulders. The attire was thrown harshly atop a small, cushiony chair in the corner of the room as if it had offended him somehow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were too busy analyzing the fire blazing in his dark, penetrating eyes. You had lit it, and you were now faced with taking the brunt of the heat.
“What the hell was that?” Sebastian’s voice was gruff when he finally spoke, leaning forward to pin your hips to the desk with his own. “Since when did Unspeakables work so closely together with one another?”
“Sebastian, it was nothing. We were just discussing our findings–”
His face ducked lower so it was directly beside your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his fingers dug into the curve of your waist. “Does ‘discussing findings’ have to be done in another man’s lap, or did I miss that addendum in my letter of employment? You were practically inside of him.”
You inhaled sharply when Sebastian’s blunt nails raked up your sides, pulling your tucked shirt out of your skirt. “It was just work. You know I can’t talk about it with you–”
“Maybe you should,” he growled, pulling back to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Maybe I need to know what warrants such familiarity amongst Unspeakables. Did you want me to catch you like that? Were you secretly hoping that I would walk in and find you cozying up to some random man that wasn’t me?”
“No! Of course not– you’re blowing this out of proportion!”
“Am I?” He leaned down again, brushing his lips against your jaw before his mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “I’m your fiancé. I’m the one you said yes to when I asked you to marry me. I’m the only man you should ever let get that close to you. Or do you not agree?”
“Of course I agree, but I can’t help what happens when I’m at work–”
Your excuses were silenced by Sebastian’s teeth suddenly clamping down on your earlobe, a startled hiss bursting from you before you could stop it. “Liar,” he whispered. “There’s this thing called professionalism. You could tell your colleague,” he spat the word venomously, his grip on your waist tightening, “that it’s inappropriate to discuss your findings so close together. You could remind the oaf that you’re engaged– that he doesn’t stand a chance with you, and that he should quit while he’s ahead.”
Sebastian shifted his hips back and gave himself space to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, his hands moving startlingly fast over the clasps. You hardly had the time nor the ability to stop him– not with how turned on you found yourself becoming. Some might say the man you were in love with was overbearing and possessive, and they would be right… but those facets of Sebastian’s character were parts of him that you relished in.
Which was exactly why you had made sure to set the scene he had walked in on perfectly.
You’d known your fiancé was coming to pick you up for your lunch break since he had been so busy with work recently. He had promised you last night that he would make his recent absence up to you at the first opportunity, but a lunch date wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. You had been hoping for this exact scenario the moment the two of you made it home in the evening.
Sebastian forgoing waiting and dragging you to his office, though? That hadn’t been expected. He wasn’t even going to bother with waiting to stake his claim on you.
And despite your nosy, fellow employees lurking around outside the door, you liked that he wasn’t waiting. A lot.
You glanced down at your chest once Sebastian had yanked your blouse over your shoulders, discarding the attire over his shoulder roughly. He ripped your brassiere away next, instantly kneading one of your breasts in his large hand with dizzying possession. “Look at me,” he hissed, the authority in his voice compelling you to listen. Through your lashes, you could see the heady flush creeping across his cheeks as he stared down at you, his ruddy skin a byproduct of lust and rage. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”
You didn’t hesitate for a second before whispering, “You, Sebastian…”
Your voice trembled meekly, your eyes fixed on his as you tried to play innocent in the face of his wrath. But he saw right through your ruse– he always did.
“Tell me the truth, darling.” Sebastian demanded, his tone smokey and icy all at once. “You knew what you were doing back there, didn’t you?”
That devilish smirk reserved solely for you appeared on his face– the one that promised ruin and domination. He knew you had planned for this. He was well aware that you had been upset with him for prioritizing work for the last two weeks. You had told him as much time and time again, but there was little either one of you could do about it. The Ministry demanded much from its two prize workers; when duty called, you both answered at the drop of a hat. It was an unfortunate side-effect of being the Hero of Hogwarts and the youngest Auror to ever be assigned his own team.
Sebastian knew you as well as you knew him. He could read you like a book– was intimately familiar with the way your brain worked. Your shoddy attempt at appearing demure wouldn’t work on him.
His impatience was made palpable when he pinched the peak of your breast between his index finger and thumb, wringing a whine from your throat that you struggled to keep quiet. “Y-Yes,” you finally answered, your voice catching. “Yes, I knew what I was doing.”
“You like to play dangerous games, darling. Is this what you wanted? You wanted me pissed enough to ruin you here with all these people around?”
No. You had hoped for your bold actions to result in Sebastian stewing in jealousy for the entire day, then driving him to ignore his office at home to give you some attention. The plan had been for this exact situation to transpire in the comfort of your own house. Not here. Not while the two of you were at work. “Not… exactly…” you croaked.
He chuckled darkly, releasing your breast and your waist to free his cock from the confines of his trousers. The full length of him was already at play– the tip leaking violently and bulging veins conveying his excitement well enough. He reached up to shove at your shoulder, guiding you back against the desk quickly and mercilessly, “Yeah, I’m sure you thought you had it all figured out, huh? Too bad I can guess every move of yours before you make it.”
His cock glistened in the office light as he gathered the fabric of your skirt into a messy heap below your navel, holding it there as he slapped his length against your wet folds. “So don’t argue with me when I give you exactly what you wanted, darling.”
The blunt head pressed against your dripping entrance, the pressure driving your heart into your throat as you stared up at Sebastian with wide eyes. He flashed you another sinful smirk before shifting forward, driving the entirety of his length inside of you in one fluid motion.
You gasped– no, cried his name as he breached you. It was so sudden. So deep, so thick, so overwhelming, that your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you struggled to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The sound of your voice would likely carry. The people milling about outside of Sebastian’s office could probably hear you, and maybe some of them were even listening in considering the spectacle they had witnessed leading up to this moment.
But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you open after two long weeks of forced celibacy, and you loved it.
Your walls fluttered and clamped down on him, wringing a groan from Sebatian’s throat that intermingled with your panted breathing. “So tight…” he groaned, hunching over you as he planted both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You like this, don’t you, love? Making me watch you fawn over some other bloke just so you could end up under me, stuffed full of my cock?”
Your eyes were half-lidded when you met his unwavering stare, your lips parted around shaky exhales and soft mewls. Then you nodded, no longer interested in trying to uphold your innocent facade. “Yes…”
Sebastian’s eyes flashed, and then he was straightening his spine so he could lend his full strength to his movements. The first jerk of his hips had his cock punching into you so roughly that you cried out again, and you felt his nails bite into your skin in response to the sound. “No one could ever have you like this,” he grunted in-between thrusts, raking his fingers down your sides and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. “No one could ever fuck you the way I do. Isn’t that right? Tell me.”
“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the desk when you felt him plant his thumb against your clit, circling the nub rapidly as he pounded into you. “Only you– there’s only you, Sebastian.”
“Damn right there’s only me,” he echoed wickedly, his lust-dark eyes narrowing at you as he watched you writhe around atop the wood. Pleased with your confession, he angled his hips just so, aiming for the area inside of you that he never failed to find with stunning proficiency. It didn’t take long– barely half a second– and then your body began to tremble in response to his assault on that magic spot. The head of his cock kissed against it over and over, and coupled with his unrelenting attention on your bundle of nerves, you felt tension take root deep in your gut. “You’re mine, darling. There’s a band on your finger that proves it.”
Your moans turned high-pitched, and your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you desperately tried to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian– fuck– I can’t–”
The lone hand on your waist shifted so it was splayed across your lower stomach. Sebastian grinned maniacally as he applied a careful amount of pressure there, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock as he hammered into your cunt with feral intention. It knocked the air clean from your lungs– your breathless gasps of his name suddenly quiet enough that you knew he was the only one who could hear them.
“Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”
Fuck– it was too much. His dirty, shameless talking, the brutal thrusts against the deepest parts of you, his thumb moving ceaselessly over your clit. It was overwhelming– all of it threatening to send you careening over the edge even though you didn’t want a second of the euphoria to end.
Sebastian’s nails dug into your skin– right above where he knew your womb was– branding you with crescent shaped imprints that made your stomach lurch with arousal. You weren’t walking out of here without marks, that was for certain. Markings from the man you were set to marry would litter your flesh for days to come, and that thought made the tension in your gut amplify tenfold.
“S-Sebastian,” you whimpered, lifting a shaky hand to grasp the one he had splayed against your stomach. “I– I love you, I’m sorry– I love you–”
He groaned when your walls fluttered around his cock. It was as though your body was trying to swallow him deeper– sucking him in further as you neared your blissful precipice. “You can’t do that anymore, darling,” he leaned down, capturing your lips with his briefly before biting down on your bottom lip. “No more taunting me like that. No more.”
You nodded helplessly beneath him as he rammed his hips into you for emphasis, tears of pent-up pleasure quickly welling in your eyes. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t– please, I’m so close–”
Sebastian’s thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling the nub too fast and too firmly for you to think straight. Your legs kicked out on either side of him at the overstimulation, your voice falling off into a sharp, strung out sob as you continued to plead brainlessly.
“Please, Gods, please–”
His lips were directly against your ear when he growled, “Go on, love. Come for me. I want you drooling and crying– too full of me to even fucking walk.”
Sebastian never relented as you crept closer to the brink. His thrusts turned brutish, faster, and more unforgiving as he furiously worked his thumb over your bundle of nerves. The animalistic grunts he let loose were laced with a tangible hunger that finally caused the knot in your stomach to snap.
And it snapped hard.
All at once, your body seized. Your back arched off the desk and pressed against his chest, a ragged moan ripping from your throat and echoing throughout the room so loudly that it left little room for interpretation to any listeners outside. Your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice– your cunt milking his length as though it never wanted to let him go. Your fluids soaked his trousers as your thighs trembled, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you and leaving you a boneless, twitching mass atop the desk. It was utter rapture.
But Sebastian didn’t stop.
“So fucking perfect,” he growled, his breath hot against your cheek before he stood straight again. “But I’m not done yet.”
His ferocious pace never wavered as he resumed his earlier upright position; one hand on your stomach and the other maddeningly focused on your clit. Sebastian kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your climax while forcing your body into another, knocking the wind from you with such fervor that it bordered on cruel. Your hips twitched in a feeble attempt to escape the overstimulation, but the hand on your lower midriff kept you firmly in place.
“S-Sebastian, wait,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the persisting pleasure he bestowed upon you. “I-It’s too much–”
“You’ll be fine. You wanted this, remember?” He slammed into you again, laughing breathily when you dug your nails into the top of his hand. “I’m just giving you what you indirectly asked for, darling.”
Merlin– you had bitten off way more than you could chew.
You sobbed, the sound laced with both pain and pleasure as your body went limp beneath him. Overly sensitive. Helpless. He was going to make you regret goading him into such a frenzy.
The sordid sound of Sebastian’s hips slapping against your wet cunt was sloppy. His finger moved in every direction over your clit, the slickness covering every inch of your lower half making the pad of his thumb slide all too easily around the nub. Every time he made direct contact with it, you jolted. Senseless noises fell from your lips as you were brought to orgasm once again, more evidence of your arousal gushing around Sebastian’s cock and staining his clothes, but he hardly paid it any mind.
Evidently he had more pressing matters to focus on.
His head tipped forward, a guttural moan tearing from his throat and reverberating through you as he endured your walls tightening around him. It was like nothing could throw him off, his tempo withstanding the feeling of your body sucking him in greedily, the force of his thrusts causing your shoulder blades to scrape against the wood of the desk. Mussed strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he looked back at you, his pupils blown wide, and his lips parted around a telling gasp of your name.
After what seemed like an eternity of brutal overstimulation, Sebastian slammed home deep before finally stilling. He buried himself in your cunt all the way to the hilt as he panted hard, pressing down against your stomach with enough force that you groaned– and you were certain he could feel himself emptying his load inside of you. At least, you certainly could. The hot spurts of his seed scorched you all the way to your core before it started to seep out and drip onto the floor. The sound of it escaping your ravaged center prompted Sebastian to grind against you– trapping his oozing spend in your body with his own.
How the hell were you supposed to go back to work after this?
The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your cheekbone pulled your heavy eyelids apart, and you were met with your fiancé drinking in the sight of your fucked-out expression with sinful male satisfaction etched across his face. His gaze flicked down towards your left hand, and he gingerly lifted it towards his lips to kiss the diamond studded gold band around your ring finger. All you could bring yourself to do was hum questioningly, your mind still too frazzled to form a proper sentence.
“I think we need to recall the wedding invitations we sent out…”
That snapped you out of your post-coital stupor quicker than a lightning strike. What did he mean, recall?
Surely he wasn’t implying he wanted to cancel it.
Had you fucked up worse than you’d imagined by taunting him? Was he calling off the wedding? Had your selfish urge to get his attention ruined your future with him before it had even started? Your eyes went wider than saucers, and your voice was tight when you croaked, “What? Why?”
Sebastian’s grin was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. He ground his still-solid cock into you again to wring a strangled gasp from you, the squelching sound making you flush from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. “Because I don’t think I want to wait until spring anymore. The sooner I can make you mine, the sooner I can spend all of my spare time trying to fuck a baby into you. That is, if I haven’t already… that would really keep other men away, wouldn’t it?”
You glanced down to where his pulsing length was still sheathed in your cunt– its unwavering hardness a testament to how Sebastian was nowhere near finished with you. He pulled back before ramming his hips against you again, forcing a startled, pleasure-induced yelp from your throat. When you looked back up at him, you found that the fire in his eyes from earlier was burning brighter than ever, inextinguishable in its intensity.
Summary: One would think that after putting up with menstruation for so many years, you would be well accustomed to dealing with it by now. That couldn't be further from the truth, however: you hated it. So when yours arrives in the dead of night and forces you to the showers in the hopes of relieving your discomfort, the last thing you expected or wanted was for your boyfriend to barge in unannounced.
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian finds you covered in blood after waking up without you beside him and suggests a natural remedy for your pain.
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, menstrual cycle, blood (kink?), explicit sexual content, explicit language, shower sex, period sex
It's also up on Ao3
To the anon who suggested this: you're an absolute icon. Never before have I been so captivated by a request. This haunted me all night.
You were no stranger to blood. Fighting Ashwinders and Poachers in the Forbidden Forest went hand in hand with bleeding wounds, scrapes, and bruises. But those things were a non-issue for you. A few vials of Wiggenweld or those poultice’s Nurse Blainey was so fond of handing out typically took care of external wounds with no problem.
But once a month, you were met with blood of a different sort.
The menstrual kind.
Which is why when you awoke in the Room of Requirement with a familiar sensation afflicting your lower stomach, you knew right away what was happening. The weight of Sebastian’s arm slung over your waist couldn’t distract you from the cramping sensation in your gut. It felt like your organs were being twisted– contorted into shapes and squeezed so tightly that a pained groan bubbled in your throat. You stole a glance at the man next to you, paranoid that somehow he would telepathically know what was going on. He was still sleeping, though, and you sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that he would stay that way.
Escaping his embrace was a task in and of itself. There was no such thing as personal space when you and Sebastian spent the night together. You had convinced yourself a long time ago that he would crawl inside your skin at night if he could, but you were immensely grateful that such a thing was impossible. The thought of him being made aware of your completely normal ‘time of the month’ made you shudder with revulsion.
Yes, it was a completely normal part of female biology… but it wasn’t something that any woman just went and talked about. At least, not any self-respecting woman. A lady’s cycle was for her and her alone to deal with.
In the process of crawling across the bed, you felt a telling slickness between your legs that had nothing to do with your previous nighttime activities with Sebastian. You knew the second you pulled your undergarments down, you would be met with the sight of your ruddy, ruined clothing, and that thought coupled with the discomfort threatening to bring you to your knees was enough to cause tears to well up in your eyes.
Dammit! It wasn’t like you could control that either. You were a moody, gross mess. If there was a choice between going comatose for a week or living through this ungodly experience once a month, you would gladly choose the former. Death was preferable to bleeding all over yourself and dealing with sore breasts, cramps, and emotional outbursts.
There was no way in hell you could handle all of this here. The menstrual pads and linen rags you kept handy for these times were at the bottom of your trunk in your dorm, and you’d foolishly left your wand on your nightstand as well. Sleeping in the Room of Requirement had been a last minute decision, and without your wand, there was no way to Charm over the things you needed. The inky night sky visible through the windows told you that it was the middle of the night, which meant that traversing the corridors to fetch your belongings was out of the question. The last thing you wanted was for a resident ghost or a Prefect to catch you and question you about what you were doing out past curfew.
The Prefect’s bathroom was nearby, though. That would have to suffice. You would go there, clean up, and then figure out how the hell to deal with this… situation.
As you shuffled out of the tiny bedroom and through the main chamber of the Room, another wave of pain stabbed at your gut and made you hiss through your teeth. If you didn’t collapse on your way down the staircase, it would be a Merlin-sent miracle.
—
The warm stream of water cascading down your head had helped to clear away the pain-induced haze that clouded your mind. That was the extent of the reprieve you were granted, however. Everything else still hurt– had begun to hurt more the second you’d reached the bathroom. The cramps, your back, your breasts– even your fucking feet. Why did being a woman have to be such a punishing experience?
Wiping at your face with your damp palms, you pointlessly wished that this could have happened at any other time. Late in the evening yesterday when you had been in your dorm, or earlier in the morning today so you could have made it back to your room in time to get your linens. Not now. Not in the dead of night– not the one time students were expressly forbidden from wandering the halls.
The universe hated you. You hated yourself. Even standing beneath the shower head, you felt dirty. No amount of scrubbing would change the fact that your pajamas were soiled. You would have no choice but to put them back on and hope against all odds that no one was awake early to spot the giant stain blooming across the back of your trousers.
Between the rush of water roaring past your ears and your own self-deprecating thoughts, you failed to hear the footsteps echoing throughout the bathroom until they halted right beyond the curtain. One singular, thin sheet mounted to a metal rod by tiny hooks was all that separated your naked, bleeding body from the unknown person, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the vulnerable realization.
“I take it you have a good reason for up and vanishing in the dead of night to come shower?”
Shit. Sebastian. Peeves rising through the floor to taunt you would have been preferable to this. “Don’t come in. I– I had to cool off. I couldn’t sleep– just go back to the Room, I’ll be there soon.”
Liar. If you could somehow get away with spending the rest of the night in the Prefect’s bathroom, you would gladly do so. That was a much better idea.
“Cool off?” Sebastian scoffed, and your throat tightened uncomfortably when you saw his fingers appear around the edge of the curtain as though to yank the barrier aside. “There’s enough steam in here to gag a Dugbog. What’s wrong, darling? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine! Just go back to bed, Sebastian. Please.”
He was quiet for a moment– long enough that you were certain he had caught the shrill edge to your voice. You sounded anything but fine. But then his fingers fell away from the edge of the curtain, disappearing behind the makeshift blockade completely. Any second now and his footsteps would resonate throughout the room and give you confirmation that he was leaving– that you could continue to ride out the waves of pain and humiliation in solitude.
But the sound of him leaving never came.
Instead, you were deafened by metal scraping against metal as Sebastian yanked the curtain aside, his disheveled form staring back at your nude one as you screeched and tried to cover yourself with your hands. “Sebastian! What the hell?! I said leave!”
His eyes raked down your body, starting from the top of your head, then along the plane of your torso, before finally settling on your red-stained thighs. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I beg your pardon? Since when is it acceptable for a man to barge in on a woman in the shower? You’re unbelievable!”
His dark, penetrating gaze returned to your panic-stricken face, his brows furrowing in response to your rightful anger. “It’s acceptable since I’m your boyfriend, for starters. This isn’t anything I haven’t already become intimately acquainted with, darling. Second, I was giving you a chance to be honest with me, but since that’s apparently not going to happen, I need to take matters into my own hands.”
“What are you on about? I was being honest. I couldn’t sleep! Not everyone is blessed with the ability to pass out after laying down for two minutes.”
“Ah, but you’re only being partially honest, sweetheart. Were you ever going to come clean about the blood on the bed? Or the blood on your trousers? Was I meant to overlook that little omitted detail?”
Mortification stronger than anything you’d ever felt made you go rigid. Suddenly the blistering water coursing down your back felt decidedly cold, and your cramps were momentarily forgotten as your stomach churned with nausea. “I– well– that isn’t your business. It will never be your business. So just let me deal with it by myself and go. Back. To bed.”
Sebastian’s jaw hardened as he clenched his molars together, his eyes narrowing challengingly in a way you were all too familiar with. You were well aware of his stubbornness– sometimes you even admired it. His tenacity and ability to get what he wanted was something of a super power to you, but right now it was a downright nuisance. This wasn’t the time nor the place for him to try to bully you into confiding in him. You were naked in a shower, for Merlin’s sake.
Was nothing sacred anymore?
Instead of arguing with you further, Sebastian nodded once to himself before releasing the curtain. His hands fell to the hem of his sleep shirt, hauling it over his head in one swift motion that revealed all of his tanned, freckled skin at once. If you weren’t so bewildered and agitated, you would gladly take a moment to relish in the sight. But then he moved on to his own pajama pants, hastily kicking those away to leave him as nude as you were, and your brows disappeared into your hairline. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m not going back to bed without you. If that can’t happen, then I’ll join you in here.”
He tried to step over the tile ledge, but the hand you’d kept over your breasts shot out at that moment to slap against his chest. Sebastian frowned, actually mustering up the audacity to glare at you for trying to protect your dignity. “Y-You can’t. It’s not clean in here.”
“It’s a shower. Logic dictates that it’s as clean a space as they come. Now move over–”
“Sebastian, I’m bleeding.” The word left you in a breathless rush, shame and insecurity softening your previously stern tone. He didn’t show any reaction to the confession, though. He just remained rooted to his spot by the curtain with his head tilted to the side. “I’m dirty. It’s on the tiles– you can’t come in here.”
Sebastian reached up to clasp the hand you had planted to his chest tenderly, his thumb stroking over the back of your knuckles. His eyes glimmered with something curious as they roved down your body again, and then he asked, “Why on Godric’s green Earth do you think you’re dirty?”
You swallowed, entirely too embarrassed for comfort. It was bad enough to have to go through this whole ordeal, but to describe it…
“Because it’s blood. It’s gross,” you explained weakly. With any luck, that would be enough to quell the inappropriate conversation and get the man to scurry back to the Room of Requirement.
But Sebastian only looked amused. He smirked in a way that conveyed both disbelief and reassurance before laughing quietly, gently prying your hand away from his chest so he could bring it to his lips. “Darling, we see blood all the time. Our extracurriculars are hardly the safest. Between Crossed Wands, the Highlands, and your Herbology plants sinking their teeth into my legs, do you really think a little blood would gross me out?”
“Well, no… but that’s different.”
“Why is it different?” His voice was like liquid velvet he implored you further, entrancing you enough that you failed to muster up the willpower to stop him as he took a step into the shower. “Because of where it comes from? Those prudes that call it taboo don’t know a damn thing. Not to say I know more than anyone, but I’ve read plenty of books on the subject… do you want to know what I think?”
The entire time he spoke, he encroached into your space more and more until finally he was towering over you. Your shoulder blades pressed against the wall of the shower, Sebastian’s taller frame forcing you to crane your neck back to look up at him. His hair was soaked now– fully at the mercy of the water gushing from above– but he didn’t so much as blink as he waited for you to answer him.
When you mustered up the ability to nod shakily, Sebastian grinned and began sensually trailing his fingertips over your shoulders. “I think it’s a profound thing. Spiritual, even. In other parts of the world, women are revered for being able to create life, and bleeding is a natural part of that. It’s normal, and you’re not dirty. On the contrary, I think you’re beautiful. I mean, you’re always stunning, but there is something about you covered in blood that I find rather ravishing.”
The blush staining your cheeks had absolutely nothing to do with how hot the water temperature was. “Now I know you’re lying. That’s just insane to say–”
“I’ll prove it to you,” Sebastian interjected, digging his nails into the skin of your upper arms. “You trust me, right?”
Of course you did. If there was anyone you knew you could rely on implicitly, it was Sebastian Sallow. He was loyal, caring, and would go to the ends of the Earth for you if such a thing was ever necessary. But this was… well, a little intimidating. You’d spent the last eighteen years believing that the only way to deal with a menstrual cycle was to isolate yourself and hide the evidence. To open up to him this way– to blindly let him guide you towards whatever revelation he was leading you towards– it scared you.
You pursed your lips together, trying to hide the grimace that threatened to take over when you nodded again. Sebastian, much to his credit, didn’t laugh or make a big deal about having your go-ahead. To some degree, he had to know this was a first for you, and you appreciated his candor in that regard.
When he leaned in to kiss you, you were too distracted by his lips and tongue and teeth to realize that he was sequestering you into the corner of the shower. Your mind was too muddled to realize much of anything until his hands trailed lower down your abdomen, gripping you around your waist and urging you to relax. The nauseating pain that came with your cramps returned then, and you groaned into his mouth before pulling away with a shudder. “I don’t know, Sebastian. I really don’t feel well. Everything hurts right now.”
“I can help,” he whispered before his mouth reclaimed yours. A predatory sound rumbled deep in his chest, and the way he overwhelmed all of your senses made your knees buckle. His lips brushed against yours when he pulled back to murmur, “I promise. I’ve heard of a foolproof way to make it hurt less. Just trust me.”
You didn’t have to be a Leglimens to guess what he was implying would ‘help’. If there had been any doubt before now, you would have figured it out when his fingers appeared against your cunt– sliding through blood and water easily as he neared your entrance. “It might be messy,” you supplied lamely, your body betraying your words as your legs parted of their own accord to give him more room. “You really don’t need to do this.”
Sebastian silenced you with a quick kiss before trailing his mouth along your jaw, bumping your head to the side so he could nip at your pulse teasingly. He stepped forward more to close the gap between the two of you, his startlingly hard length pressing against your hip and making your mouth dry up. “You’re always messy for me down here. A little blood makes no difference.”
Merlin– your cheeks turned beet red at his quip. Your resolve was crumbling remarkably quickly, Sebastian’s lips and fingers making you melt despite your reservations. How could he be so unbothered by something like this? It wasn’t just blood he would be faced with. There were thick clots that accompanied your flow, your lower stomach bloated uncomfortably, and your breasts looked two sizes larger than normal. You didn’t feel like yourself– barely looked like yourself when it was your time of the month. Wasn’t he troubled by that?
Sebastian pressed a finger into your core with measured caution, and gods, you were so wet. There was no way of knowing whether it was from the blood or the water, but you honestly didn’t care. As embarrassing as it was to have your boyfriend willingly covering himself in your fluids, it was also strangely arousing. If he didn’t mind the one major thing you deemed disgusting about your cycle, why should you?
At least, that’s what you told yourself. It was harder to actually believe it.
A second finger curled into you then at the same time Sebastian’s other arm wrapped around the small of your back, pulling you flush to his chest as he licked, bit, and kissed at your neck. With every pump of his digits, your legs grew weaker, and before long your boyfriend was forced to pin you against the shower wall with his chest to keep you upright. “Is it good, darling?”
You weren’t sure what to think. Everything you were feeling definitely seemed more sensitive than you were used to, which made sense considering how violent your menstrual cycle tended to be. When Sebastian pressed into you harder and curled his fingers deeper, you croaked weakly and dug your nails into the tops of his shoulders. “Don't– don’t know…”
He repeated the motion a second time before withdrawing his hand from your cunt, holding it up at eye-level to reveal the stark redness that covered his otherwise sun-kissed skin. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to look away or not. It had to be the running water making it seem like so much blood– the mixing liquids transforming into a ripe, pink color that dripped down his forearm and off of his elbow. He smirked when he caught sight of your aghast expression before dropping his hands to your hips, lifting you up easily before motioning for you to wrap your legs around his waist.
“S-Sebastian, wait– your hand is filthy–”
He sucked his teeth loudly as he dropped an arm to position his cock against your folds, shooting you a dry look that quelled any further arguments. “Once again, we’re in the shower. And stop calling it filthy– your blood is anything but gross.”
The words you opened your mouth to speak were replaced by an airy moan when the head of Sebastian’s length breached your walls slowly and tentatively. It felt tighter than normal, but incredibly slick, too. Your boyfriend evidently agreed, because he groaned out curses as he fed more of his cock inside of you. Once he had bottomed out completely, he lifted his limp neck to fix his eyes on you, and the way his pupils dilated reminded you of an animal lost to the throes of bloodlust.
He spared a brief moment to readjust his grip on you, holding the undersides of your legs and using the wall to pin you in place. Then he was moving, his strength unwavering as he pulled his hips back before driving them forward again– only this time with more force. His leverage over you allowed him to aim every thrust perfectly, striking the deepest parts of you with alarming precision, and all you could do was hold on to his shoulders for dear life.
“F-Fuck, Sebastian–” you stammered dimly, your voice nearly drowned out by the sound of the rushing water. He groaned eagerly– your only sign that he had heard you– and then leaned against you more so that when he freed his blood-soaked hand to fondle your tender breast, you didn’t fall.
Red, finger-shaped stripes appeared along your skin as Sebastian massaged your swollen chest, timing every gentle squeeze with each plunge of his cock. You wanted to be disgusted by the sight of your body’s essence being smeared across your flesh, but that thought came secondary to the realization that everything he was doing felt good. Every thrust seemed to grant relief to your twisting insides, prompting your muscles to relax before shifting to clench around his length. The pleasure was rapidly overshadowing the pain, and once Sebastian took note of your pliant state, he abandoned your breast to tilt your chin up and kiss you.
His tongue swept along the inside of your mouth, wringing tiny noises from you that he enthusiastically swallowed up. The way Sebastian held you fast to the wall with your legs clamped around his hips made it so that his pelvis rubbed deliciously against your clit as he moved, and you fully surrendered to the bliss that came to replace your apprehension. Your eyes squeezed shut as something far different from your cramps began to build in your lower stomach– a telling heat that grew in intensity and threatened to burn you from the inside out.
“I can feel you,” Sebastian panted against your lips. “You feel so warm– so tight–” he punctuated the statement with a hurried snap of his hips, expelling a strangled gasp from your throat. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s good.”
Sebastian returned both hands to supporting your rear as he speared his cock into you harder, gripping you with strength so intense that you knew it would bruise. The realization that you craved his marks on your body left you moaning fervently. You wanted the memory of this moment etched into your skin long after the blood had washed away, because you didn’t want to forget a second of it.
The blasted man had been right, but you weren’t keen on telling him as much.
As the pleasure mounting in your gut amplified, you tried to rut down onto Sebastian’s cock in a bid to chase the euphoria dangling in front of you. The water beating down on both of your bodies made it difficult, however, and Sebastian stilled your movements by pressing you into the wall so firmly that your shoulder blades scraped against the tiles. He held you there securely, rolling his hips into yours as he slammed into your cunt over and over and over again until finally you were crying out his name, your walls clamping down on his cock viciously.
You felt lightheaded as your climax washed over you, your muscles tensing and limbs trembling as Sebastian held you through all of it. When your head fell back against the wall, you heard and felt the low rumble in your boyfriend’s chest as he found his way to his own precipice. The warmth of his release filling you somehow soothed the lingering soreness in your abdomen, and the minute rocking of his hips settled your nerves marvelously.
When you finally found your voice again, all you managed to say was, “Bloody hell.”
Sebastian huffed out a laugh, lifting his head to stare at you through his dark lashes. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
“No, you dunce. I’m just… surprised.” You looked down to stare at where the two of you were still connected, not at all shocked to discover that both of you looked like you had been maimed from the waist down. Blood was everywhere; on your stomach, your legs, and the base of Sebastian’s cock looked like someone had tried to saw it off. It was a ludicrous sight.
But a new, budding part of you also found it to be equally arousing.
Maybe exposure therapy wasn’t the worst way to handle your aversion to your own womanly… period of time.
When Sebastian gingerly withdrew from your walls and set you down on your feet, you were pleased to discover that your cramps had miraculously calmed. There was a lingering ache between your legs that ebbed up to your inner-stomach, but it was nowhere near as harsh as it had been earlier. You weren’t even sure if you could blame your cycle for that.
Something told you that the culprit of that bizarrely nice soreness radiating from your lower half was hanging between Sebastian’s legs.
“I take my thanks in the form of kisses, by the way.”
Your eyes skirted away from the blood running down your thighs to land on your very smug, very arrogant looking boyfriend. His brown eyes twinkled with amusement when you pouted at him, and his laughter shook the walls of the shower when you reached out to smack his chest. “You don’t have to be so boastful about it, you know. Can you blame me for being hesitant?”
He shrugged and stepped under the spray of the water, tipping his head back to shift his wet hair out of his face. “Not really, no. But you should know by now that you can talk to me about anything– even the embarrassing stuff.”
“Well, I know that now. I’m not a villain for assuming you would be grossed out by all of this, though.”
Sebastian smirked and tugged you under the showerhead alongside him. He situated you so that your back was to his chest, then reached around to run his hands over the red-stained parts of your stomach, gently washing away the streaked blood. You couldn’t help but relax into him– entirely too at peace to deny yourself his touch any longer.
“That’s a fair assumption…” he mused thoughtfully, lowering his head so his lips were pressed directly against your ear. The feeling of his breath fanning across your damp skin sent a chill down your spine, and you swallowed thickly when he proclaimed, “But any wizard of true merit wouldn’t be opposed to getting a little blood on his wand every now and again.”
Summary: Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you.
It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.
Word Count: 7.7k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, masturbation, intense pining, possessive behavior, cunnilingus, oral fixation/oral smut, explicit sexual content
This random Monday oneshot is also on Ao3
Sebastian had never been one for subtlety. In Ominis’ own words, he wore his heart on his sleeve and let his emotions fuel his tone, but there was little he could do to remedy that fact. Tiptoeing around a subject or beating around the bush never failed to frustrate him. He preferred it when people said what they meant and meant what they said. Being straight up and getting to the point spared him a headache and prevented him from losing his temper, which was the best case scenario for everyone.
Sebastian said what he wanted, did what he wanted, and never wasted his breath apologizing for his actions when he knew deep down that he wouldn’t mean it anyways. Placations were pointless.
Unless, however, you were involved.
Everything about you had driven Sebastian mad for the last three years. From the moment you had arrived at Hogwarts, he had been completely and utterly entranced by you. Then you’d gone and broken his dueling win streak in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the infatuation had turned into obsession. You were the one person he wouldn’t– no, couldn’t be authentic with. How could he be? You made him stupid. He could barely think straight around you, his mind imbuing him with the sorts of thoughts that would land him in an asylum if he voiced them. If he didn’t filter himself around you, it wouldn’t end well. Not for him, and certainly not for you.
He didn’t know if your obliviousness to his behavior was all for show or if it was completely genuine, but he didn’t want to risk finding out.
“Sebastian?” Your voice made him go rigid, the tired rasp to your voice sending his body’s entire blood supply straight between his legs.
“What?”
“Do you want to work on that History of Magic report with me later? I fell asleep and missed half of the lecture.”
He watched you over the rim of his cup, the steam from the hot chocolate wafting into the air and obscuring his view of you slightly. Of course he knew you’d fallen asleep– he had been watching your head bob up and down for twenty minutes in class before the fatigue had won out and you’d slumped over your desk. Professor Binns was always too preoccupied with floating listlessly around the chalkboard to take notice, which was why Sebastian hadn’t bothered to wake you up. If you were tired, you needed to rest.
More to the point, Sebastian enjoyed watching you when you weren’t looking. What better opportunity was there to do so than while you slept?
Your chin was daintily perched in your palm as you pushed around the food on your plate, waiting patiently for his answer. With your tired smile and half-lidded eyes, he was convinced you were on the verge of passing out again. How late had you stayed up last night? What had you been doing instead of sleeping? Had you gone out with your friends– or Merlin forbid– someone else?
He banished the train of thought from his mind, lest he piss himself off with the possible answers. “Sure. Library?”
“Hm… can we go to your room? If I fall asleep again, at least it’ll be in an actual bed.”
The mental image of you sprawled out on his bed did nothing to alleviate the growing bulge straining against his trousers. His jaw hardened as he breathed in deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his pursed lips. “Yeah, fine. I won’t do the work for you if you fall asleep, though.”
Your tired expression lit up as you beamed at him, and his stomach churned violently. It was pathetic how smitten he was. He knew he would agree to come to class in a ballgown if it meant getting to glimpse that dazzling grin of yours.
The smile he gave you was mildly strained, but you didn’t notice. Thankfully.
Sebastian spent the rest of lunch holding his breath and thinking of anything that fit the criteria of gross and off-putting. He had to. It wasn’t like he could rub one out in the middle of the Great Hall to get rid of the half-mast hidden behind his zipper. He couldn’t even excuse himself to go back to his dorm to take care of it in private– he’d be showcasing the full extent of the problem between his legs to the entire student body if he did. You were none the wiser to his internal turmoil as you rambled on innocently about one thing or another, but he could barely hear you over the rush of blood in his ears.
He checked the giant grandfather clock against the wall. Twenty more minutes for lunch. With any luck, it would prove to be enough time for his cock to calm the fuck down.
—
You were always late.
Sebastian had grown accustomed to your unyielding habit of showing up places behind schedule. In the beginning it had bothered him, if only because he was the exact opposite. He had to be early to everything on his agenda, otherwise he was panicky and on edge. But your reliable tendency to arrive after an agreed upon time was exactly what he needed right now, because if he didn’t kill the boner he’d been sporting since lunch, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
The dorm was empty since all of his roommates were either in the Library or in Hogsmeade, but Sebastian still tried to stifle his noises. Choked moans of your name were bitten back and swallowed as his fist furiously worked the aching length of his cock. There was nothing sensual or graceful about how he moved his hand– it was all frantic. Berserk, even. His fingers were pressed roughly against his shaft, his wrist twisting rapidly over the head as he tried to practically yank his orgasm out. Any other day he would be ashamed of how pitiful he had to look, but not now.
Right now, he was desperate. He had to stave off his cravings for you as a precaution before you showed up, otherwise he knew he’d be done for.
A quick succession of three knocks sounded from the door, halting his movements. Then Sebastian’s blood ran cold when he heard your voice from the other side. “Sebastian? Are you here?”
The stinging slap from his hand clamping over his mouth worked to snap his mind out of its lust-induced haze. Squeezing the base of his cock with bruising strength, Sebastian let his head fall back against the headboard of his bed as tears of frustration and pent-up pleasure filled his eyes. He blinked them back stubbornly, digging his teeth into his thumb as his entire body seized with agitation.
Figures that this was the one time you were actually early.
You started knocking again, your knuckles rapping against the wood of the door faster, your impatience permeating the air on your side of the wall until it was too much to bear.
Sebastian snarled as he hastily stuffed himself back in his pants, at a complete loss for how to proceed. He was hardly in a state to be around you right now. All of this had been so he wouldn’t be a fraught mess around you, but now things were ten times worse. His legs were tense as he swung them over the side of the bed and made his way to the door, taking an extra moment to readjust his painfully hard cock in his pants before undoing the lock and wrenching the door open.
“Finally,” you huffed angrily, your narrowed eyes widening when they took note of his flushed, sweaty face. “Merlin, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
“You’re early,” Sebastian replied flatly, ignoring your question completely.
“Yeah, Garreth offered to help Poppy out at the stalls for me so I came over sooner. What’s the matter with you?”
“I–” Shit, what did he say? His brain scrambled for an excuse, his red cheeks and disheveled clothing leaving little room for interpretation. Unless… “I was working out. Getting ready for Quidditch next week. I thought I’d have more time to finish up and shower, but now you’re here.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot about Quidditch. Figures Imelda is making you prepare early,” you waved your hand over your shoulder in the general direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead, don’t stop on my account. I can start reviewing what notes I did manage to take today.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you.
It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.
And he still needed to shower.
“Give me ten minutes,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. You nodded and stepped inside his room, watching as he stiffly grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before striding past you without a second glance.
If the universe held any affection for him at all, a cold shower would be enough to loosen the tight knot in the pit of his stomach.
—
Unsurprisingly, Sebastian’s excursion to the bathroom was unsatisfying. The shower head ought to count itself lucky that it was still mounted to the wall and not lying in a broken, dented heap on the floor. The icy spray of water had eased the problem between his thighs, but it had also snapped him out of his stupor, sharpened his senses, and left him with the grating realization that nothing would help him quench his thirst for you.
After donning a pair of pajama pants and an old Quidditch jersey that had definitely seen better days, Sebastian slowly– painfully– made his way back to you. He dimly towel dried his hair as he shuffled towards the door, giving himself as much time as possible to steel his nerves and barricade his lustful thoughts behind a mental, brick shield. A chill snaked its way up his spine as the cold air of the Slytherin dorms kissed his damp skin, but he barely paid it any mind.
He would rather be cold than embarrassingly hard.
When Sebastian pushed the door open, he found you laid out on his bed on your stomach, a textbook and a pile of notes situated before you. You’d shed your robes and were clad in your school uniform, the trousers you’d stubbornly kept since last year acting like a second skin. The passage of time was ultimately Sebastian’s greatest enemy, because with every month that went by, you changed. Physically changed. You were taller, curvier, and more womanly than ever. Instead of replacing your uniform with one that fit, you held on to ones from years past that had no business living in your drawers.
That perky ass of yours was going to be his undoing. Why did that outdated pair of trousers have to hug your hips so nicely?
He averted his gaze to the wall, curling his hands into tight fists that left violent red crescents on his palms. Get a grip, he thought to himself.
“You certainly made yourself comfortable,” he finally managed to bite out, his voice strained and pitched higher than normal. Idiot.
You glanced over at him with what he could only describe as a doe-eyed look. Those plush lips of yours were parted in mild surprise before they curled up into an easy smile, and your feet proceeded to kick up in the air playfully. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”
Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths, Sebastian.
“Is that why you’ve practically moved in here? Not sleeping well in your own room?”
“Among other things,” you admitted around a sigh. “Don’t pretend like you don’t live for my company though. What else would you do if I wasn’t around to pester you?”
“Relax, most likely.” He allowed himself a shit-eating smirk, and he was rewarded by the sound of your indignant gasp. Closing the distance between you both, Sebastian sat down on the edge of the bed, confidently moving so that he was situated against the headboard for the second time today. You shifted around to give him more space, then brazenly draped your legs over his before shoving your notes into his lap.
His smirk vanished, and it took everything in him not to let out the choked groan that bubbled in his throat in response to the close proximity. “Whatever. You love me, and we both know it,” you huffed tauntingly, your downcast eyes keeping you from seeing the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “Now read over this and tell me if I got most of the important material. Then I can start drafting the paper.”
History of Magic was the one class that never failed to make everyone sleepy, but presently? Working on an assignment like this with you in the wake of his shitty day? Sebastian had never been more awake, and it had everything to do with how pent-up he was. With excruciating restraint, he blocked out the feeling of your legs weighing down on his thighs and picked up the notes.
It was going to be a long, long evening.
—
It hadn’t been easy for Sebastian to maintain his composure for an hour straight, and there was even more truth to that fact now. You were still propped up against the bedpost with your notes scattered around you, your legs still tossed lazily over his, only you wouldn’t stop fidgeting.
Seriously. Sitting still was a foreign concept to you and had been for the last twenty minutes, because your feet wouldn’t quit fucking rubbing together. That wasn’t the direct cause of Sebastian’s frayed composure. It was the fact that your incessant twitching was pulling on the fabric of his pants, drawing the material taught over his groin over and over and over. It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to get so restless after studying for so long without a break, but considering that his impromptu masturbation session had been cut short earlier, he was loads more anxious than usual.
He didn’t mean to be so aggressive when he slapped his hands over your knees, stilling your absentminded writhing with a scowl. Later on he would apologize– and mean it– for being so harsh. But if he didn’t put a stop to your shifting, he was going to have bigger problems that superseded you being upset with him.
“Hey!” Your head snapped up from your notes, your grip on your quill turning white knuckled as you openly glared at him. “That hurts. Let go–”
“Stop moving so much, you’re driving me insane!” He fired back defensively, hating how gruff his voice sounded. “Is it too much for you to sit still?”
Your brows rose up your forehead in complete bewilderment, your expression warring between offended and shocked. “You could just ask next time instead of trying to dislocate my kneecaps. Merlin…” Sebastian didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgruntled when you attempted to withdraw your legs from his lap. Either way, he refused to let you move the limbs, and your loud sigh was laced with blatant vexation. “Let go, I’ll just move–”
“No. I don’t want you to move, I just want you to relax.”
Your wary gaze pierced right through him, and if he wasn’t already coiled tighter than a fucking spring, he would stiffen at the way your lower lip jutted out into a pout. You obeyed, though, your legs staying mercifully still as you went back to reading over the notes he had added to, and Sebastian took the opportunity to watch you through his lashes while he pretended to look down at the papers in his own lap.
Mussed strands of hair fell into your face, a byproduct of how frequently you’d run your fingers through them. Following summer break, you had returned to school with a light smattering of freckles dusting your nose. They couldn’t hold a candle to the ones that covered damn near every inch of him, but they were still pretty. Cute, even. The dark rings under your eyes would have looked sickly on anyone else, but in your case, they made the whites of your eyes all the more vibrant. You looked like a doll.
A scrumptious, effortlessly beautiful doll.
He watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, scratching out something you had written before hastily replacing the sentence with another. When the bit of skin was released, it was left red, swollen, and far more tempting than it had any right to be.
He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to bite at your lips, your neck, your breasts, and leave imprints of his teeth all over you. He wanted to mark every inch of your body and lay his claim in some primal, unseemly way that went against every lick of gentlemanliness he had been taught. He wanted to toss his inhibitions to the wind and indulge in the taste of you– something he had wondered about for a long, long time. Were you as sweet as he imagined? Would your thighs work to crush his head if he found himself situated between them, lapping up your essence like a man starved?
When your head popped up to glance at him again, Sebastian was unprepared for it. He was still staring– no, ogling you– with his eyes narrowed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fantasies had gotten the better of him and had left him a panting, lust-drunk mess. Another cold shower couldn’t even begin to lessen the painful throbbing of his cock. All of his hard work at keeping calm and in control had just flown out the fucking window, and he could only thank the stars in the sky that he had a pile of notes in his lap, concealing the evidence of his innermost thoughts.
“Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” You asked him, abandoning your quill against the mattress so you could sit forward and scan his very flushed, very tense face.
“I’m fine,” he looked away, trying and failing to wave you off.
Stubborn as ever, you didn’t back down. “You’re all red. Do you have a fever?”
“Seriously– I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, just finish your report already.”
The force of his heart hammering against his sternum left him worried that it was about to jump out of his ribcage. Your hand was suddenly closing in on him, concern etched across your features as you shifted your legs to move closer into his space. The tantalizing smell of your perfume oil invaded his senses, filling his nose and setting his blood alight in his veins. There was something to be said about how primal humans could be when it came to scents. Yours had always been incredibly intoxicating, and Sebastian was all too willing to breathe it in deeply as the back of your hand made contact with his forehead.
He was so fucked.
“You’re burning up. Maybe we should call it a night… you probably need to sleep it off.”
“I don’t need sleep,” he insisted with a frown, reaching up to pry your hand away from his face. “I already told you; I feel fine. Just drop it.”
That spark of rebellion you reserved for your most loathed enemies came to life behind your irises, burning brighter than the sun as you narrowed your eyes at him and tried to plant your hand against his forehead again. Sebastian held you back with little effort, your arm shaking with the force you exerted in your attempts. “You’ve been weird all day– if you’re sick, you need to be checked out. So either you tell me what’s wrong with you, or I’ll drag you to the Hospital Wing myself.”
That dark, animalistic part of him that conjured up the most obscene of daydreams silently laughed at your threat. Drag him? You couldn’t move him if you tried. He was infinitely stronger than you– broader, faster, tougher. You were the prey his inner predator yearned to claim. It was your fault that he was so out of it today, and yet you had the gall to order him around?
With the utmost difficulty, Sebastian checked himself in record time, reining in the bestial side of him as his grip on your wrist tightened. “For the last time, nothing is wrong. If you can’t accept that, then leave. There’s the door. You have your notes– go finish your report in your own room.”
You scoffed and strained in his hold, realizing that your attempts at moving your hand forward were fruitless. Then, faster than Sebastian could process, you threw your other arm out– deciding that if he was going to hold back your left hand, your right could pick up where the other had left off. He instinctively jerked you sideways to throw you off balance, which sent you careening forward against his chest. A guttural, almost pained groan ripped from his throat when your palm pressed directly against the throbbing bulge in his pants, your efforts to catch yourself effectively giving him away.
The jig was up. Your hand was right on his cock, the notes in his lap crinkling loudly as your fingers flexed in alarm. His eyes, which had squeezed shut in response to the abrupt contact, cracked open to find you blinking up at him blearily. “S-Sebastian?”
“Stop. Just don’t,” he grit through his teeth, his molars clenching together so roughly that he was certain his jaw would lock.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t– I shouldn’t have–” you tried to backpedal away from him to remove yourself from his personal space, but you only succeeded in applying more pressure to his groin. A choked whimper escaped his lips, the sound forming too quickly for him to stifle it and too loudly for you to have missed it.
Fuck.
Sebastian blindly yanked you forward so the brunt of your weight was pressed against his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from escalating the situation further, and the sigh of relief that slipped through his teeth when you moved your hand away from his cock was pathetic. He was pathetic.
He was glad that you couldn’t see his face when he desperately whispered, “Don’t– don’t fucking move. Please, just… give me a minute.”
That was all he needed. A moment of reprieve. He needed sixty, uninterrupted seconds to focus on his breathing– to imagine a Dugbog in a swimsuit, or Madame Scribbner in lingerie. He needed to cycle through the things that never failed to kill his libido, and he could only do that if you let him.
You didn’t. Fuck– you didn’t even give him five seconds to open his eyes. Before he knew what was happening, your hand was back on his cock, your fingers digging into the parchment that covered his lap as you fucking squeezed his pulsing length with intention.
The effect was instantaneous, and the sounds that fell from Sebastian’s lips were ones that would be seared into your brain until the end of time. His brain, too. He had never made such a wretched noise in all his eighteen years of living.
“Don’t make me throw you off this bed,” he growled slowly, but the high-pitched edge to his voice made it seem like despite his words, he was secretly pleading for it.
The image of himself climbing over you on the hardwood floor, pinning those damnable hands of yours above your head with one hand while the other was knuckle deep in your tight, fluttering cunt flooded his mind, and the brick wall of restraint he had constructed earlier crumbled into dust. He sucked down a shaky breath, his entire body vibrating with need as you gave him yet another testing squeeze, and that was what finally prompted him to seek out your eyes.
They were glimmering with unrestrained curiosity, something strangely like wonder dancing behind your pupils. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted breathlessly, the prettiest flush Sebastian had ever seen spreading across your cheeks as you glanced down to where you gripped him. “I just… is this why you’ve been so out of it today?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he rumbled, his mind urging him to shove you away while his body begged him to arch into your touch. “You better stop while you still have the chance.”
“But…” you trailed off, squeezing him for the third time and jumping when he hissed loudly through his teeth. “This seems pretty bad. Painful, even.”
If he wasn’t so wound up, he would have laughed. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
Sebastian was convinced that he was the hardest he had ever been. The dual sensations of your hand on his cock and your shallow breaths fanning across his cheek had him dripping precum, the fluid swiftly soaking through the fabric of his pants and creating a stark wet patch that you noticed immediately. Almost testingly, you swiped your thumb over the spot, sending a bolt of arousal straight through him that left him gasping with need.
His willpower was shot. It was going to take a fucking miracle to come back from this. You had effectively taken every last bit of Sebastian’s resolve and crushed it all beneath your heel, leaving him trembling and keening as every part of your being invaded his senses and held him hostage.
“Fuck– please,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t look at you right now– it would be the end of everything if he did. The end of this insanely euphoric moment, the end of his restraint, and maybe even the end of his friendship with you. This was… uncharted territory. He was scared to explore it, but gods, did he want to. “Please, I can’t– I can’t take it…”
He heard you swallow, your hesitation evident in the way you paused before lifting your hand away from his groin. The wrist he had held apart from you slipped free, his fingers closing over nothing but air, and a wave of disappointment crashed over him. Every inch of skin you pried away left him emptier and emptier, his heart and his dignity deflating with each passing second. His chest felt tight, and he was fully prepared to sit there in agonizing silence while you gathered your things to leave as fast as your legs could take you.
But then your hands were back– on either side of his face to tilt his head up to yours– and his sharp intake of breath was smothered by your soft, delectable lips pressing against his.
Bloody hell.
You weren’t leaving.
A switch flipped.
A carnal growl ripped from the back of his throat, and then he had you splayed out on your back with his knee wedged insistently between your thighs. He faintly heard the sound of your notes being scattered across the floor, but your startled gasp transforming into a hapless moan was more important. His lips crashed back into yours with zeal, the mask he had maintained this entire time dissipating like smoke in the wind, and his tongue bullied its way into your mouth, probing and tasting as though he didn’t have enough time to memorize every facet of information he unearthed.
You tried to match his pace the best you could, nipping at his lips and breathing heavily into his mouth, but your attempts only annoyed Sebastian. He asserted dominance by grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb, then pried your lips apart with his tongue and conquered your mouth wholly and without subtlety.
“I need you,” he panted against your face, his fingers digging sharply into your hips. “I need you so bad, darling.”
You could only moan shakily when Sebastian dove back in to latch his lips over your pulse, peppering your neck with wet, sloppy kisses and decorating it with an assortment of love-bites. His teeth left a trail of imprints that his tongue worked to soothe, comforting you like he always had while hopelessly committing the taste of your salty skin to memory.
Sebastian felt you shudder as he worked his way up the column of your neck to the sensitive area below your ear. He nipped at the warm flesh waiting for him there, and when you whined and shamelessly bared more of yourself to him, he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his clothed cock against your hip. “Please, fuck– let me taste you. I’ll do anything you ask, just spread your legs and let me make you feel good.”
Your breathing hitched, and you tried to turn your head towards him, but he was too busy panting against your neck to meet your flustered stare. “S-Sebastian–”
“Please, darling. I’m fucking begging here. Let me in. Let me do this.”
Sebastian sounded drunk, his mind positively swimming with lust. The prospect of getting to see you like this, of getting to touch you, was driving him absolutely insane. His voice was airy and reedy– almost choked as though he couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
“I– I’ve never done this before,” you stammered softly, your cheeks flushing with humiliation at the revelation.
Sebastian’s head snapped up, a fire burning behind his eyes as he stared down at you with newfound hunger, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had to look deranged. “You– no one has ever touched you like this? Never?”
“I mean, I’ve been kissed before, but not…” you trailed off, suddenly bashful in the face of your inexperience. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Something buried deep inside of him broke free at that moment– a wild, untamable piece of himself that salivated at the fact that you were a virgin. No one had ever laid with you before. No one had ever glimpsed the intimate, private parts of yourself that were always hidden beneath that damn uniform. He would be the first– he would be your first. It should have been impossible, but the thought alone made him harder, his cock straining and leaking so much precum that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was dripping through the fabric of his pants.
Rational thinking returned to him then, and he was able to blink back the fog that shrouded his morals. “We can stop,” he croaked, not meaning a fucking word of it. “Fuck– tell me to stop and I’ll leave you alone. We can’t come back from this. Tell me to back off and I will.”
“I…” uncertainty washed over your pretty features, and much like before, Sebastian’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He was so selfish. He was such a self-serving bastard– he didn’t want you to call him off. He wasn’t the religious type in the slightest, but for the first time in his entire life, Sebastian started honest to God praying that you wanted this. That you wanted him.
He was going to have to make a point to pray more, because after a few tense beats of silence, he heard you shyly murmur, “I don’t want you to stop.”
Fuck. Thank Merlin.
There would be time later to be embarrassed about how his body sagged with relief. He was too busy kissing you again to bother with such a trivial emotion right now. Savoring your taste with a deep groan, Sebastian allowed himself a minute to grind against your hip, then moved back so he could begin the laborious process of stripping your too-tight trousers from your legs. It took longer than he would have liked, but once the attire reached the base of your ankles, he was able to rip them off and discard them haphazardly over his shoulder.
“Need to burn those,” he growled. “They drive me crazy.”
A brief huff of amusement came from you, and you squeezed your knees together in some feeble attempt to hide yourself from him. “They’re just pants.”
He didn’t have the mental capacity to get into why he had such a potent love-hate relationship with the clothing. Instead of explaining himself, he reached out to pry your legs apart, taking immense satisfaction in the way you squeaked and your entire face turned red. “Let me taste you. I’ve been wanting to for so fucking long– I swear I’ll make you feel good, love.”
Sebastian was sure that if he opened a dictionary to look up the word ‘disoriented’, there would be a photo of your face printed right next to it. You had never looked at him like that before; flushed, wide-eyed, and with traces of both confusion and arousal shadowing your tight features. Your expression had no right to rile him up the way it did, but he wasn’t interested in hiding his thirst for you. Not anymore.
“Are you sure?” You asked him, voice quivering. “That– I mean, if it’s gross or anything, don’t feel like you have to.”
Sebastian scoffed. You had no clue how extensive his fantasies were. As if he could ever be grossed out by you.
The level of innocence you displayed only spurred him on faster, and he eagerly sat forward to cover your mouth with his again, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse so he could wrench it over your shoulders. Even though he was vibrating with barely contained need, he had to allow himself a moment to take in the sight of you completely bare, the staps of your brassiere hanging seductively over the sides of your arms and tightening the knot in the pit of his stomach. Your undergarments had to be as outdated as your trousers, because they were snug, short, and way too sheer to qualify as new.
He needed to burn those, too.
Sebastian watched you with predatory intent as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your unmentionables, letting his nails scratch against your thighs when he began to drag the clothing down your legs. Without your blouse in the way, he was able to see the full extent of your reddening skin, the color more vibrant than the Gryffindor banners that hung in the Great Hall. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, then stilled when the underwear was fully removed. Save for your brassiere, you were completely bare before him, and Sebastian audibly moaned when he looked down to find your folds glistening with moisture already.
“I’m going to drink up everything you have to give me until there’s nothing left,” he braced his hands on either side of your hips to lower himself onto his stomach, taking care to plant soft, revering kisses against your hip bones. “I know you taste so fucking good. I just know it…”
Your entire body tensed when you felt Sebastian exhale against your damp center, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. Then before you could collect your bearings, he was licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, collecting as much of your wetness as he possibly could, and the sensation made you jolt. “S-Sebastian–” you gasped, digging your fingers into the rumpled sheets of the bed in a bid to ground yourself.
“Yeah, say my name,” he urged roughly, his chest swelling with male pride. The sound of his name on your lips had the same effect as a bolt of lightning; it sliced through him to his very core, electric and unbelievably erotic, and he brazenly covered the entirety of your cunt with his mouth, licking and sucking at whatever parts of you he could reach.
The wetness that covered you was so extensive, it was hard to tell whether it was your own arousal or Sebastian’s saliva to blame. A cacophony of moans and whines tumbled from your throat without restraint, prompting him to dig his nails into your sides as he hauled you closer. He fucked his tongue into you with inhuman vigor, his jaw aching in protest, but he ignored the discomfort and continued to devour every drop of your essence like he would die if he didn’t.
It was so messy, too. Sebastian could feel the moisture dripping down his chin, but that only inspired him to work harder– his grip on your waist turning so severe that he knew he would find finger shaped bruises there later. Another mark left by him. Another brand proving that you were his.
“I knew it,” he panted hoarsely, his voice strained and deep as though he’d been screaming before now. “You taste so good, darling– so fucking sweet.”
“I– Sebastian, I–” you covered your face with your hands, the appendages shaking in earnest as your muscles began to tense. “Fuck, I think I–”
He sucked your clit between his lips then, laving his tongue over the swollen bud with so much pressure that your hips bucked against his face. The chuckle he let loose was guttural and dark, and he broke his unwavering concentration to glance up at you. “Are you close? You want to come for me, huh?”
Sebastian knew you had to be embarrassed, because you were still hiding behind your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your sockets. He could faintly see the row of teeth-shaped marks that lined your neck, but the majority of his hard work from earlier was concealed by your forearms. That wouldn’t do. He reached up and wrenched one of your arms away to reveal your watery stare, the glassy sheen covering your eyes telling him everything he needed to know about how close to the edge you were.
“Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face when you fall apart on my tongue.”
“It’s embarrassing,” your voice shook, as did the hand Sebastian held in his own. “I can’t– it feels hot. Like I’m on fire. I can’t even think–”
“Then don’t,” he interjected immediately, tenderly kissing the insides of your thighs in a way that made your stomach churn. “Don’t think. Just feel. Let me do all the work, and you just sit there and enjoy every second of it.”
It was a simple enough concept, but you still yelped when he dove back in, the singular hand he kept on your waist pulling you down so he was smothered by your wet, pulsing cunt. Sebastian didn’t waste any time picking up where he’d left off, his eyes burning as your potent scent drove him into a frenzy. He inhaled sharply as his tongue poked and prodded incessantly, its only goal to collect as much of your slick as possible, the ferocity of his movements making you tremble. Your nerves were totally scorched as the heat within your body reached new levels, the pleasure building in your gut nearing a peak that you were almost afraid to fall over.
“S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah!” Your words transformed into a keening moan when Sebastian sucked your puffy nub into his mouth again. The bedframe shook in time with your own vibrating, your eyes crossing as the symphony of ecstasy he gave to you climbed to its crescendo. Sebastian’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen he sucked down, but he didn’t care. If he suffocated to death while fused to your sopping wet cunt, he would die a happy man.
Breaking away from your clit for a brief moment, he hastily murmured, “Come on, love, let go. Use me and let go.”
He released your arm and tucked his hand somewhere under his chest, your confusion lasting for all of two seconds before you felt his fingers snaking their way inside of you. There was no resistance thanks to the slick gushing from your hole, the wetness saturating his hand and making him groan with desire. Sebastian’s tongue continued to flick and press against your bundle of nerves with reckless abandon, his fingers pumping and curling in and out of you as you deliriously cried out his name. Your walls tightened around his digits, sucking them deeper at the same time your brows furrowed in alarm, and Sebastian knew he had you right where he wanted you.
“Sebastian– wait, I can’t– I’m going to–”
His eyes strained as he fixed them on your face, his lips barely parting from your clit as he encouraged you. “Come on, darling, come on my face. Be a good girl and let go– just let go.”
The praise drove you clean over the edge, the coil in the pit of your stomach finally snapping as his voice and his fingers and his tongue reduced you to a quaking, moaning mess. Sebastian’s desperation for you consumed you, pure rapture washing over your limbs before they fell boneless against the mattress. Stars danced in the corners of your vision, and you heard and felt Sebastian groan against you before his unrelenting grip on your waist went slack.
You hardly registered him slipping his fingers free from your cunt and climbing over you until his face was right in front of yours. Sebastian took a flurry of mental snapshots of you, tucking each one into the far reaches of his mind and vowing to himself that he would never forget the fucked-out expression you bore. He made a point to suck the remnants of your pleasure from his digits while maintaining eye contact, and you whimpered breathlessly at the sight.
“You were so good for me,” Sebastian cooed as he gathered you up in his arms. He moved so his back was nestled against the pillows before repositioning you so your head was tucked against his shoulder. Soothingly, he carded his fingers through your hair as he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you managed between deep, shuddering breaths. “What about you?”
“More than okay. Don’t you worry about me.”
“But…” your eyes flicked down at the same time he tried to cover the blossoming wet patch on his pajama pants. “I thought you didn’t–”
Almost sheepishly, he admitted, “I did. Trust me, that did more for me than you could possibly imagine. I’m sorry for being so aggressive. And for being such a prick today. I just… it’s been hard to rein it in around you recently.”
He felt your chin dig into the side of his pec as you glanced up at him, the virtuous, doe-eyed look you fixed him with threatening to undo him all over again. “Rein what in?”
“You can’t honestly tell me you don’t realize the effect you have on me, right?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as he dredged up the very thoughts that had been hounding him for years. “I’m hopeless where you’re concerned. I get stupid. I act like a daft, brainless idiot, and you just strut about without a clue. I thought I’d finally gotten the hang of keeping that under control, but…”
“Apparently not,” you helpfully supplied, and Sebastian grunted confirmingly. Those blasted trousers of yours had nullified the remnants of his restraint. So had your eyes. And your hands and your voice. All of you was to blame, really. Like he’d said from the very beginning; he was hopeless where you were concerned.
“Anyway, thank you for… well, that.”
“Please don’t thank me,” your face pinched, your body going rigid. “Then it will feel transactional, and I don’t want that.”
Fair point. “What do you want, then?”
That rosy flush reappeared against your cheeks, and Sebastian had to beat back the smile that threatened to split his face in the wake of your obvious shyness. “I– well… is there anything I can do for you?”
Yes. No. Maybe? Sebastian’s laugh was humorless, mostly because there wasn’t anything funny about how his cock twitched in interest at the offer. “I don’t think we need to venture down that path right now. Especially since you’ve already given up so much tonight. I honestly feel kind of bad that your first experience was me jumping your bones…”
“But what if that’s what I want?” His heart leapt up into his throat so fast that he nearly choked. The kind of uncertainty that went hand in hand with inexperience was written all over your face, but the stubborn set to your jaw told Sebastian that you were serious. Was he dreaming? Maybe he had passed out in the bathroom and this was all a very lovely, very cruel figment of his imagination. You pressed on, “Maybe I want to walk down that path with you. There’s no one else I trust as much as you, so… what would be the harm?”
This time, Sebastian’s chuckle was genuine. He blinked rapidly, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes that it would settle his nerves and calm his racing blood. It didn’t work. “In that case, there’s plenty you could do for me, darling. I still think we should save it for next time, though.”
You appeared to chew the inside of your cheek, your brows furrowing as you contemplated something that interested Sebastian to no end. Then, before he could process what you were doing, the hand that had been splayed against his chest inched down tauntingly, your nails dragging lightly across his skin. His breathing hitched, and then it stopped entirely when you gripped him through his pants. Much like he’d expected, the conversation had roused his cock back to life, and he was achingly hard in your hand.
“I want ‘next time’ to be right now,” you declared stubbornly, pulling a hiss from him when your fingers rubbed over the sensitive head of his length. “I’m a little curious about this. You recovered pretty fast, but if you’re too tired…”
The wicked gleam in your eyes conveyed quite clearly that you knew exactly what you were doing. Where had the bashful innocence gone? Sebastian had blinked and suddenly it was like he was staring at a different woman, the challenge in your voice leaving him with one daunting realization.
Either he had created a monster, or there had always been one lurking beneath the surface.
His cock twitched again, and Sebastian knew that he was so, so fucked.
Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)
(And some temporary Andrew Larson x Reader)
Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (shameless smut, profanity), all characters are 18+
Words: 10,402
Themes: friends to lovers, sexual tension, sexual frustration, shitty boyfriends
Summary: You're going absolutely, utterly mental. Your boyfriend, Andrew Larson, hasn't touched you in weeks and you're growing desperate. When he's unwilling to help relieve your sexual tension, your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, always has your back.
Notes: This one's mainly just some shameless smut. Characters are 18-year-old seventh years. Reader is female MC. Inspired by "Sex" by The 1975.
Read on AO3 or below the cut.
You blew a puff of air upward, hoping it would release the strand of hair that was currently plastered to your face. Sweat trickled from your hairline, over your temples and down your neck until it disappeared beneath your shirt collar.
It was abnormally hot outside, but there was no chance you were going to miss the quidditch final. It was Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a rivalry that promised a match for the ages – not to mention your very best friend was a Slytherin beater.
“Get him, Seb!” you screamed as your best friend whizzed overhead in pursuit of a bludger. Slytherin had a 40-point lead and the match was approaching its second hour of play. Gryffindor was holding its own, but its players were clearly growing weary against Slytherin’s physical and aggressive style of play. If the Slytherin seeker could just catch that damn snitch, the party could start.
Suddenly, the Slytherin seeker initiated a sharp nose dive and you screamed in encouragement. She hurtled toward the ground, two Gryffindors tailing close behind in an attempt to knock her off course. Their desperation was palpable and you feared they might knock her off her broom if she got too close to the snitch.
Sebastian was attempting to corral another bludger. You watched nervously as his eyes narrowed in concentration, his bat raised until he connected it with the bludger. It careened toward the Gryffindors, forcing them to abandon their path.
“Yes, go, go, go!” you screamed so loud, Ominis Gaunt had to cover his ears from his seat next to you. You had dragged the poor boy along to the match, despite his incessant reminders that he would be unable to see any of the action. But he was the other third of your trio and the undeniable glue that held you and Sebastian together, so you convinced him that Sebastian deserved both of your support that day.
“Go, Alice, go!” you screamed at the seeker, silently praying your housemate would come through for Slytherin. She inched closer and closer to the ground, her fist closing around the snitch with about five feet to spare.
The stadium erupted in a frenzy. You grabbed Ominis by the head, hugging him to your chest as you screamed and bounced in elation. He squawked in protest, but even he couldn’t conceal the smile that had formed across his lips.
The Slytherin team descended to the center of the quidditch pitch until they piled up in a massive group hug. You laughed as you spotted Sebastian at the bottom of the pile, his grin clear even from your seats high up in the stands.
Headmaster Black strode to the center of the pitch with Madam Kogawa carrying the quidditch cup close behind. Professor Sharp met them and motioned for the Slytherin team to gather around, where he presented them with the cup.
The Slytherins in the stands roared with applause and you whistled as loud as you could, drawing another annoyed glance from Ominis.
“Come on, let’s get down there!” you said, tugging on the sleeve of Ominis’ robe.
“Yes, mother,” he sighed as he drew his wand, its red tip guiding him as you pulled him through the sea of students.
Once you reached the bottom of the staircase, your eyes scanned the grounds in search of Sebastian. Sad and angry Gryffindors shoved past you, coaxing a laugh from you as you continued toward the center of the pitch. Finally, you spotted Sebastian engaged in an animated chat with Imelda Reyes, who was smiling smugly while the rest of their team continued to celebrate with the cup hoisted into the air.
“Sebastian!” you screeched as you launched yourself toward the boy. You threw your arms around him and leapt, your legs wrapping around his torso as he stumbled backward to brace his balance. “You did it!” you practically screamed in his face. You hugged him tightly as more bodies clad in green flooded onto the pitch.
Sebastian offered you a goofy grin as he supported your weight, his arms squeezing you tightly so you wouldn’t slip.
“That boyfriend of yours is going to kill me,” he murmured in your ear. You drew backward slightly to give him a pointed look.
“You and I both know you’d demolish him in a duel,” you said.
“Can’t argue with that,” Sebastian said with a shrug. He set you on your feet and draped an arm around your shoulder. “I’m going to get cleaned up and changed. See you at the after party?”
“I’ve got a bottle of firewhiskey with your name on it.”
You skipped off to find Ominis again, but were instead met by your boyfriend. He was leaning against the entrance archway of the pitch, his arms crossed as his stare followed you. You sighed to yourself and begrudgingly trudged toward him.
“Hey,” you said, your tone much more feeble compared to the shouting and squealing you’d done moments ago.
“Hey.” You could tell he was cross with you from the way his jaw clenched, though his eyes were calm and cool.
“Some match, huh?” you said cheerily, hoping you could bring his mood up rather than the opposite.
“Sure was.”
He was clearly in no mood to discuss quidditch, so you slipped your arm through his. “You okay?” you asked.
“I was until I saw you and Sallow.”
“Andrew,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping in frustration. “I’ve told you a million times, it’s not like that with Sebastian.”
“And I’ve told you a million times that I’m not comfortable with the way you two egg each other on,” Andrew replied hotly. “The way you two carry on is improper and it’s disrespectful to me. His reputation is going to ruin yours.”
Sebastian was a known flirt who had earned a reputation for his extracurricular activities with half of the girls who attended Hogwarts. He didn’t have girlfriends, though, and you secretly wondered if he’d ever settle down. As a result, your friendship with Sebastian had endured its fair share of rumors and speculation as people wondered if you’d ever venture past the threshold of platonic kindred spirits.
“We’re just friends,” you tried, but Andrew glared to cut you off.
“Yes, I get it,” he snapped. “You, Sallow and Gaunt, Slytherin’s special little trio. But you’re my girlfriend.”
“You’re right,” you sighed, already tired of fighting. You didn’t want Andrew to feel slighted by you. If the tables were turned and some girl was climbing all over him, you knew you wouldn’t like it.
But you and Andrew were vastly different. You were bolder, more outspoken and adventurous. Hell, you were the hero of Hogwarts two years ago when you saved the school from Ranrok.
Andrew was more studious and reserved, a true Ravenclaw. Professors liked him, but for reasons that differed from the way they liked you. You were creative and savvy when it came to magic, whereas Andrew boasted the kind of intelligence that manifested in the form of logic and reason.
When you first started dating Andrew, Ominis and Sebastian laughed at you. They teased you like brothers, poking fun at your new boyfriend.
“Has he even been in a duel, ever?” Sebastian had chortled.
“And isn’t he friends with Puffskein Duncan?” Ominis added.
You chided them for their judgment and teasing, but Ominis, ever the prim and proper gentleman, later pulled you aside to tell you he was happy for you. He said Andrew was smart and would take good care of you, to which you snorted and reminded Ominis this was merely a teenage romance. You couldn’t see yourself invested in anything long-term with Andrew and were merely interested to see where your relationship would lead.
When you mentioned this to Sebastian in passing one morning as the two of you lounged in the Slytherin Common Room, he snickered.
“So Larson’s too dry to earn any consideration for a long-term commitment?” he mused.
"I've used Crucio on you before. Don't think I won't do it again," you warned.
"I'm just saying! Seems like he's a giant waste of time."
You huffed at him in annoyance. “While he and I likely won’t make it beyond Hogwarts, I’d appreciate it if you’d at least respect our relationship for its duration,” you scolded.
“The only thing I respect about Larson is that he somehow managed to finesse the school’s most eligible bachelorette into dating him,” Sebastian quipped. You rolled your eyes and hit him with a sofa cushion. “But seriously, what do you see in him?”
“He’s… smart,” you replied, which merely provoked a menacing laugh from Sebastian.
“Smart,” he repeated blankly.
“And he’s creative,” you continued. “And handsome.”
“What exactly do the two of you even talk about?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward curiously. “I mean, you’re complete opposites. What do you have in common?”
He wasn’t wrong. Most students were quick to point out that you and Andrew were an unlikely pair when you began dating. But you were attracted to Andrew. He was tall and handsome with an assured smile and composure.
“Opposites attract,” you quipped. “Some balance is good every now and then.” You weren’t sure you actually believed that statement, but you were going to pretend for now.
That was six months ago and now, the inevitable end to your Hogwarts days was approaching. You and Andrew hadn’t discussed your future as a couple, but you weren’t in any rush to do so – especially since you hardly felt like a couple these days.
The upcoming N.E.W.T.s had taken priority for all seventh years. Even Sebastian had been spending an uncharacteristic amount of time studying in the Undercroft. The two of you both aspired to be curse breakers, but the most coveted positions – curse breaking for Gringotts – were limited to two.
You were a shoo-in for one of the spots, given your famed history and experience. All you needed to do was score high on your N.E.W.T.s, which you were confident you’d ace. Sebastian should have been a certain choice for Gringotts as well, but he couldn’t exactly reveal all of the research and hands-on experience he had gained while trying to reverse Anne’s curse during his fifth year without raising suspicion.
“Are you coming to the Slytherin victory party?” you finally asked Andrew, hoping your innocent upward gaze would soften his mood.
Instead, he blinked at you. “I’m a Ravenclaw,” he deadpanned.
The evening sky was growing darker, and you knew the celebration would be underway soon. The dinner hour in the Great Hall had nearly passed, but there would be a plethora of sweets and snacks to indulge in at the party. You were eager for an evening of frivolity with your friends, as you knew your time with them was limited.
“But you’re invited to the party if you’re with me,” you said hopefully. “You can come and stay just for a bit.”
“A Slytherin celebration has detention written all over it. I was hoping you’d join me on the Astronomy Tower instead.”
Normally, you’d die before missing a single second of a Slytherin party, especially one to celebrate a quidditch cup victory. But the party was sure to continue late into the night, meaning you’d likely have time to enjoy it later.
A trip to the Astronomy Tower was much more important now, not because you gave a flying fuck about stargazing, but because you could get laid.
It’d been weeks since Andrew had touched you, and you were becoming a restless, coiled, ticking time bomb. You were an 18-year-old with wants and needs, but your stupid boyfriend had been more concerned with his N.E.W.T.s than sex as of late.
The Astronomy Tower was a common spot for romantic rendezvous, particularly for students in separate houses. You and Andrew had frequented it much more at the start of your relationship until you introduced him to the privacy of the Room of Requirement, but some nostalgia for the sake of sex was too appealing to reject.
“That sounds nice,” you said carefully, your grip giving Andrew’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’d love that.”
“Good,” Andrew said with a firm nod. “Shall we head there now?”
“Yes, please.” You allowed him to steer you from the quidditch stadium and back toward the castle. Clusters of students laughed and chattered around you, and you occasionally paused your route to the Astronomy Tower to discuss the events of the quidditch match with them.
As you stopped to say hello to Arthur Plummly, Andrew grunted in annoyance. He was clearly tired of waiting on you to finish socializing, so you merely waved to Arthur and continued to the Astronomy Wing. Perhaps Andrew was just as eager as you to relieve some year-end tension. The thought made heat rise through your body, flushing your cheeks.
The tower was quiet as most students were either celebrating Slytherin’s victory or licking their wounds in defeat. Once you reached the upper level and confirmed you and Andrew were alone, you grinned at him. You were already aching between your legs, desperate to be touched by someone other than yourself.
The air was much cooler at such a high point, the breeze drifting through the tower and its vacant telescopes. You shed your school robe and turned to Andrew to reach for his, gripping the front in earnest as you pulled him into a kiss. You kissed him hungrily as you stepped toward him, pressing your hips against his.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, craning his neck to break the kiss. You froze and rocked from your toes back down to your heels as you released his robes.
“What do you mean?” you asked stupidly. “I thought you wanted to-”
“No, not tonight, love.” His tone was gentle but you could see the irritation in his eyes. “I actually need to stargaze. I want to be sure I can identify Lyra in case it’s on the exam.”
You sucked on your top row of teeth to stop yourself from screaming in frustration.
“Can’t it wait, just a quick twenty minutes?” you asked.
“No, love. I’ve got to get this done.”
You knew there was no changing his mind, not that you wanted to at this point. The anticipation and desire you felt earlier had extinguished, now replaced by a sense of rejection.
“All right,” you sighed, stooping down to pick up your house robe. “I guess I’ll head to the party then. See you at breakfast?”
Andrew pressed a brief kiss to your cheek and smiled at you. “Goodnight, love.”
The trek down to the dungeons was cold and lonely. You weren’t used to rejection, but it had become a common occurrence from Andrew in recent weeks. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you, that something had changed to make Andrew no longer lust after you.
You hadn’t changed much physically since the start of your seventh year. If anything, certain physical attributes had improved, at least in your opinion – and the opinion of the Hogwarts male population. Your chest had filled out nicely and your curves were more evident now. If Andrew no longer found you attractive, it surely wasn’t your fault, right?
You didn’t have long to brood, though. As you neared the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, you could feel the pulse of music vibrating through the stone walls. You smirked to yourself, ready to forget about your vapid excuse for a boyfriend for the evening.
“There you are!” Sebastian spotted you instantly as you entered the Common Room.
“There you are!” you laughed as you took in his appearance. His hair was more tousled than ever and he was holding a bottle of firewhiskey in each hand.
“Where’ve you been?” he demanded as he ushered you further into the room. “Nevermind that. Let’s get you a drink. Who has the firewhiskey?” he called out.
“Sebastian,” you snorted. “You have it.”
“Oh. Right. Well let’s get you a glass then.”
One glass quickly turned into three, and you eventually lost count by the end of the night. Students from other houses came and went, and you enjoyed the presence of your friends and classmates.
Sebastian was the life of the party, per usual. He’d periodically disrupt the music and laughter to climb on top of a study table, his glass raised in a ridiculous toast.
“To Chinese chomping cabbages!” he declared during one toast.
“To Professor Ronen’s beard!” he said during another. Each toast was followed by a roar of agreement from the crowd, no matter how absurd, which Sebastian reveled in with glee.
You laughed through it all, especially when Ominis, who had been lurking in a corner of the Common Room as an innocent bystander, was pushed toward Imelda Reyes to dance. By their third dance, you could feel Sebastian looming behind you as he watched Ominis with delight.
“Someone ought to rescue him,” he said in your ear. “It’s not going to be me, but someone should eventually.”
“I don’t know, he seems to be enjoying himself,” you mused. “I think I’ll take a night off from saving our poor friend from social expectations.”
Sebastian snickered and sauntered off. Your eyes followed him as he stumbled toward the stairs. You followed after him, your own inebriation stalling you as you steadied yourself.
“Sebastian!” you called after him. He spun to peer down at you as he reached the top of the steps. “Where are you going?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared toward the dormitories. You scurried after him and watched as he slipped into his dorm room.
“Bailing on the party?” you asked as you shoved your way through the door. You’d been in that dorm numerous times, so the sight of unmade beds, cluttered desks and piles of books didn’t faze you as you sat on the bed next to Sebastian, who had flopped backward with his arms resting lazily behind his head.
“I’m tired,” he declared, his eyes watching you carefully. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a quidditch hero.”
You huffed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Alice was the one who caught the snitch,” you pointed out.
“Ah, but she wouldn’t have reached it if it hadn’t been for my bludger,” Sebastian said proudly. You couldn’t argue with that. Instead, you rested back on your elbows, your legs dangling off the side of the bed.
Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut and you studied him for a quiet moment. Your best friend was devilishly handsome. Though he maintained his boyish charm, he was certainly not the same kid you met at age fifteen. Now, Sebastian was tall and broad-shouldered, toned and sturdy, much more of a man than a boy.
“Want me to let you get some sleep?” you asked.
“No, stay. I’m just resting my eyes. I’ll get a second wind eventually.”
“Sebastian, it’s after midnight.”
“Time is a social construct,” came his quick reply. You snorted and shifted your gaze to the remainder of the room. You spotted Ominis’ bed, the only one neatly made, its curtains drawn shut. As you found yourself wondering what else went on in this room, you failed to notice Sebastian’s stare.
“So where were you anyway?”
You turned to look at Sebastian, who had one eye open.
“What do you mean?”
“You showed up late to the party.”
You heaved a sigh as the source of your less-than-ideal evening returned to the forefront of your mind. “I was with Andrew.”
“Ah. A quick little escapade before the party.”
“It wasn’t like that at all,” you said with a bitter laugh.
“Oh? It couldn’t have taken that long. You were late, but only by a half-hour or so.”
“Were you keeping track of time?”
“More like I was keeping track of you.”
You rolled your eyes. Sebastian, ever the protector. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you noted. “But we went up to the Astronomy Tower.”
Sebastian blinked in confusion. “But I thought you said you weren't hooking up.”
You groaned in annoyance. Though you and Sebastian were open books with one another, you didn’t feel very compelled to share the intimate details of your sex life – or lack thereof – with your best friend. Sure, you talked about sex, but the topic felt a bit more suggestive when you were alone on Sebastian's bed describing your own boyfriend's disinterest.
But the tension you’d been carrying for weeks was mounting, and before you could stop yourself, you said, “It wasn’t anything. Andrew and I haven’t… done that in weeks.”
That had Sebastian’s attention. His other eye popped open and he sat up, not bothering to mask his curious gaze.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.”
You exhaled slowly, averting your eyes to the dark wood floor. “Andrew hasn’t touched me in weeks.”
“And by touched, you mean…”
You whipped your body around, the sudden movement causing Sebastian to flinch as you stared directly into his eyes.
“My boyfriend. Won’t. Fuck me,” you said slowly and deliberately.
Sebastian gaped at you. It was clear he was at a loss for words, and if you hadn’t been the center of the discussion, you likely would have laughed at his dumbfounded expression.
“Well, what’s wrong with him?” Sebastian asked.
“He’s too focused on his N.E.W.T.s. He just wants to study constantly.”
“With all due respect, I’ve been pretty well focused on studying too,” Sebastian said. “But that hasn’t stopped me from enjoying myself.”
“Yeah well, that makes one of us,” you muttered.
“But you’ve… you’ve tried to- to fuck him, right?” Sebastian asked.
“Of course, I have!” you snapped, instantly horrified by your tense response. Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
Sebastian, however, flashed his canines in amusement. “Merlin, Larson really does have you worked into a tight little knot,” he mused.
“It’s not funny!” you groaned as you buried your face in your hands in misery.
"You’re right, it’s not,” Sebastian said, though you could still hear traces of a teasing tone in his voice.
“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you faster than you killed Solomon,” you hissed.
Sebastian barked a laugh. “I promise to tell no one,” he said. “But you really ought to take care of your… unfortunate situation. All that sexual tension is turning you rather violent.”
“Don’t you think I’d do something if I could?”
“Well, have you, you know, taken care of it by yourself?”
“Sebastian,” you warned, warmth creeping up the back of your neck.
“I’m just saying. I doubt you’d let anyone else assist you. Use your hands.”
“These hands are going to strangle you if you don’t shut up.”
“I could only be so lucky.”
“Sebastian!”
“Why don’t you just break up with him?”
“What?”
“You said it yourself, it was just meant to be a teenage romance,” Sebastian reminded you. “But you’re an adult now. Maybe you need a more adultlike relationship with someone who’s a little more willing to satiate your adult needs.”
“Say adult one more fucking time.”
“Adult.” You threw a pillow at him and he chortled. “But seriously,” Sebastian continued. “Why are you still with him?”
“Because it’s complicated,” you sighed. “I really do care for him. I can’t break up with him just because we’ve hit a rough patch.”
“Rough patch? Darling, this is a full-blown pit of Venomous Tentacula.”
“Easy for you to say, considering you’ve never had a serious relationship in your entire life,” you sneered.
Sebastian merely shrugged. “No one worth the time and effort has become available to me,” he said.
“You’re hopeless.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I’m not the one refusing to fuck you because I’m fretting over some stupid exams.”
The mere notion of having sex with Sebastian made your stomach flip. He was the one boy who appeared wholly unaffected by your looks and charm, though the same could be said vice-versa.
You hid your attraction to Sebastian well, suppressed in a secret, dark place, deeper than any repository. The only time it ever surfaced was when you were alone in bed at night, your fingers relieving yourself while your mind fantasized over the one person you couldn’t have.
“Even if I did break up with him, I’d have to start all over,” you noted. “I’d have to find someone else to get me off.”
Sebastian let out a silly laugh that almost sounded like a giggle. “Darling, please,” he deadpanned. “Like you’d have any trouble finding someone to fuck you. You could step into the Common Room right now and there’d be a line out the door.”
“You make it sound like I’m the biggest tramp to trapeze through Hogwarts,” you muttered.
“No, that award goes to Imelda.”
“Besides, I’m sure everything will return to normal soon,” you continued, hoping your tone sounded more assured than miserable.
Sebastian eyed you quietly, which made you shift nervously on your spot on the side of the bed. The sexually charged conversation had you hot and bothered, suddenly eager to return to your own dorm room. “Hopefully, for your sake,” he finally yawned. “But Larson clearly doesn’t realize how ignorant he is. If it were me, you’d barely be able to walk anymore.”
“Sebastian!”
---
The spring air should have met your senses with peace and placidity. It was a week later and most of the Hogwarts student body was taking advantage of the weather.
Students were scattered across the castle and its outdoor areas; some lounged lazily in the courtyards while others stretched across the grass at the center of the quidditch pitch.
You wanted to join them, but for some abhorrent reason, you were currently sitting inside the library of all places. It was hot and stuffy in there, the scent of the books and their aging pages filling your nostrils when you should have been outside enjoying the scent of the blooming flowers or the handfuls of bubblegum you’d purchased from Honeyduke’s.
But no, you were presently leaning with your elbows on one of the library’s long tables, pouting as you watched Andrew study. The two of you were nearly the only ones in the entire place, save for a few of the more recluse and antisocial students who would probably disintegrate in the sunlight anyway.
Your gaze fell on one boy – you forgot his name – who was hours deep into a Potions book. He was thin and pale, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was a vampire. The thought made you snort, which provoked a glare from Andrew.
You huffed a sigh as he returned to his reading. You studied him quietly and couldn’t help but smirk with lust.
Even though you were currently annoyed with him and his insistence on being a bookworm, he was so undoubtedly handsome. His sandy brown hair was parted to the side, his pretty green eyes darting across the lines of his Transfiguration book. His tall frame was currently hunched over the table, but when he sat back in his chair, his broad shoulders would rise and his long legs would stretch beneath the table.
Every so often, his brows would furrow as he mulled over the prose on the page, or he’d subconsciously chew at his bottom lip in an adorable way that made you want to climb him like a tree.
Watching him focus his attention on anything but you made you fidget and squirm. He still hadn’t touched you in weeks.
Of course, you understood that your Ravenclaw boyfriend was fixated on his studies. You took your education seriously, too, but you also recognized the importance of some self-care. A 20-minute study break to indulge in some sex wouldn’t kill you. Another day without it, however, just might.
You squeezed your thighs together, but the pressure only escalated the ache between them. You tried crossing and uncrossing your legs, but thoughts of something, anything, anyone between them were starting to consume you.
You decided to take matters into your own hands. Surely you could turn on the charm and tempt Andrew now, in the dimly lit ambience of the quiet library. Most boys in the school would die to be in his shoes. How could he possibly resist you after weeks of abstaining?
You leaned forward in your chair, your lips puffed out in a slight pout as you dipped your head just enough that you had to gaze upward at him with flirtatious eyes. You offered Andrew your best doe-eyed stare as you used the top of your foot to gently nudge his leg beneath the table.
He didn’t seem to notice at first, so you shifted in your seat to lean backward, puffing your chest out in hopes he’d be turned on by your breasts. The fabric of your blouse stretched taut over them, tightening as you stretched your shoulders. Your foot inched higher up his leg until you slowly dragged it downward again.
Still no response. It was absolutely maddening. Finally, you leaned forward again, your hand finding Andrew’s knee beneath the table. Your eyes swept the room to ensure Madam Scribner was nowhere in sight, your hand creeping up Andrew’s thigh until it met his groin. You slowly ran your palm over his crotch, hoping to stir his arousal.
Instead, he jerked his head up, the chair scraping loudly across the wood floor as he pushed backward from the table.
“What are you doing?” he hissed angrily.
You blinked in disbelief. Other boys would have finished in their own pants by now, but your own boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to even entertain your desires.
“Fine,” you said, pushing your own chair backward as you stood, your eyes narrowed at Andrew. “I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands. Or someone else’s.”
“What does that mean?” Andrew demanded. Your voices were rising and others were looking on in annoyance at the interruption.
“It means that if you aren’t going to fuck me, I’ll find someone who will,” you hissed bluntly. Andrew gaped at your lack of propriety, but you had no interest in pretending to be concerned for your image. “See you later.”
You stormed out of the library just as Madam Scribner surfaced to shush you. You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, making a beeline for the nearest castle exit.
Sunlight spilled across the Hogwarts grounds and you closed your eyes to appreciate its warmth. It spread across your skin, its heat exacerbating the fire that was ripping through your insides.
You weren’t actually on the hunt for the first male who would be willing to fuck. Even at your most feral, you had a little more dignity than that. You could relieve yourself of the tension in your core in private soon enough, but right now, you simply needed to get it all off your chest. You needed Sebastian.
But where was he?
He could be anywhere on a warm Saturday like this. Sometimes he liked to fly around the Highlands. Other times, he could be found socializing in the courtyard or in search of someone to duel… The Clock Tower. He had to be there.
You made a beeline for the Clock Tower Entrance and silently celebrated the familiar sight of Sebastian embattled in a friendly duel. You leaned against the archway as you watched him make quick work of Leander Prewett, ending the duel with a well-timed Expulso that sent Leander sprawling.
“Nice work,” you quipped as the duel ended and students began to disperse from the Clock Tower.
“Nothing to it,” Sebastian said as he pocketed his wand. He eyed your appearance and frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought you retired from Crossed Wands since no one could beat you?”
“Don’t fret, I’m still retired. I was looking for you.”
“At your service, darling. What’s up?”
You glanced around the room, where Lucan Brattleby was engaged in conversation with Nerida Roberts. “Not here,” you said. “Follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You led Sebastian by the hand inside the castle, your pace so quick he had to jog to keep up with you.
“Where are you going?” he demanded as you continued past the path to the Undercroft.
“Someplace private,” you answered simply.
“But the Under-”
“Someplace even more private.”
Finally, Sebastian understood. Besides Andrew, he was the only person you’d taken to the Room of Requirement, where the two of you occasionally brewed your own potions or provided Ominis with a break from your antics. You knew curiosity was clawing away at him, and your own impatience made you hasten your steps until you were at a full run.
Sebastian chased after you, question after question spilling from his mouth as he scrambled to keep up. It was all so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but laugh as you sprinted through the castle’s halls together until you reached the stairwell toward the Room of Requirement.
“Slow down!” Sebastian laughed as you continued up the stairs. Your legs burned by the time you reached the top, but you said nothing as you approached the Room of Requirement, its entrance making way for you per usual.
“Been a while since I’ve been in here,” Sebastian said as he gazed around the room. He followed you to the sofas tucked away in the side room, where he promptly sat down and made himself comfortable. You, however, continued to pace back and forth in front of him.
You felt like a fucking cat in heat. Your mind raced at the argument you’d just had with Andrew. Was that your breakup? You couldn’t even be sure, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Andrew didn’t chase after you when you left the library spoke volumes. And the fact that all you wanted was to dig your nails into Sebastian’s back and scream his name was probably the clearest indication that your relationship was over.
“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked, his eyes weighted with concern as he watched you pace.
“Andrew,” was the best answer you could provide.
Sebastian’s eyes darkened with a familiarity you’d learned to recognize over the past three years. It was a clash of protectiveness and vigilance. “What did he do?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” you breathed hastily in an attempt to keep him calm. The last thing you needed was your best friend to hex your boyfriend, even if he was your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. “He just… we got into an argument in the library and I stormed out.”
“What were you arguing about?”
You hovered in front of a bookcase against the wall, unsure how to broach the subject. This was Sebastian, the boy who never judged you. He was your best friend and closest confidant. He had your back unconditionally and shared your darkest secrets. How could something as unprofound as sex be such a taboo topic?
“He still won’t have sex with me,” you finally blurted out. Sebastian’s eyes widened at your revelation. Sure, the two of you had just discussed it a week prior, but that was when you were both drunk, riding the high of a post-party haze. “I can’t take it anymore,” you continued. “It isn’t fair.”
Sebastian’s smirk returned and you made a silent vow to hex him into oblivion if he dared to laugh at you.
“You’re right, it isn’t fair,” he said sincerely. “Darling, please tell me you broke up with the sorry excuse of a lad.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I told him…” you huffed in embarrassment. “I told him if he wouldn’t fuck me, I’d find someone who would.”
The laughter that escaped Sebastian’s lips was borderline alarming. He hunched over and clutched his sides until he had to catch his breath.
“Merlin, you really are a horny little minx, aren’t you?” he grinned.
“It’s not funny!”
“You’re right, it’s not. Except-” he chuckled. “–Except it is rather comical to think about the hero of Hogwarts and the desire of every boy in the school stomping around and throwing a tantrum because her sad excuse of a boyfriend can’t make her come.”
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head from his audacity. “Sebastian!” you chided.
“Don’t get cross with me!” Sebastian said, throwing his hands up. “I would never leave you unsatisfied.”
You inhaled sharply through your nostrils. His words seemed to cloud overhead, daring you to take the bait. He sat back smugly, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes as he waited for your reaction.
You swallowed in preparation. For nearly three years, the two of you had danced around the obvious; the whispers of “Will they or won’t they?” and the ceaseless rumors about all the things the two of you had or hadn’t done; the sexual tension that made you both straighten in your seats every time someone else dared to suggest you were more than friends; the anguishing questions you both never asked in fear of knowing the answers.
The truth was, the root of your sexual tension had very little to do with Andrew Larson. It had damn near everything to do with Sebastian Sallow.
Graduation was approaching and you had no idea what would become of your friendship. Sebastian and Ominis were set to move to London as roommates, and you had plans to do the same with Natsai. But adulthood would be different. You and Sebastian wouldn’t be a mere common room apart. And there’d be new people, new friends, new opportunities. The ache between your thighs was far deeper than the desire to know what it’d be like to be fucked by Sebastian Sallow; it was the desperate longing for a more permanent place in his life.
“Prove it,” you finally said, feigning confidence as you dared to look him in the eye.
Finally, you had managed to catch Sebastian off guard. All of these years of teasing banter and suggestive innuendo, and you finally had him pinned against a wall of astonishment. He hadn’t expected you to give in, especially in a way that managed to challenge him.
He gaped at you, a rare deviation from his typical air of self-assuredness. Your gaze remained fixated on him, cool yet inquisitive, ready to see if he’d put his money where his mouth is.
“Wait,” he finally said. “You… you really want to?”
“Why not? You’ve always been able to help me through every other trial and tribulation. Why not this one? Unless the rumors aren’t true.” You were toeing dangerous territory, teasing him while knowing damn well he’d gladly punish you for it.
“Oh, they’re true.” He couldn’t help himself. He always rose to a challenge, and you knew he’d rise to this one. But his eyes weren’t smug or even confident. They looked concerned. “So just to be sure,” he continued slowly. “You want me to… to fuck you.”
“Yes.” It was then that you realized how your chest had been heaving with every breath, a blend of nerves and lust you weren’t sure you’d overcome if you were denied again.
And to your absolute horror, Sebastian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It knocked the wind from you, causing the room to whirl as you searched your brain for an escape. But then Sebastian looked up at you again, and the sincerity in his eyes kept you rooted to the spot.
“Look,” he said after drawing a shaky breath. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I don’t spend every bit of my free time imagining what it’d be like to feel you absolutely and utterly fall apart beneath me. I spend a shameful amount of time thinking about you in ways that would positively make you want to hex me in the same way I’ve thought about hexing Larson. But you… you’re everything to me. I can’t lose you.”
What a day it had been. You entered the Room of Requirement prepared to beg your best friend to absolutely ruin you. Instead, he was confessing his love for you.
You couldn’t help but release a shaky laugh. It wasn’t the romantic declaration you wanted to respond with, but it was the most fitting and accurate reaction to such an idiotic situation.
“You mean to tell me,” you said slowly, your voice still wavering with disbelief, “That I could have been fucking you this entire time?”
It clearly wasn’t the response Sebastian had expected, because his eyes seemed to search you for confirmation, as if he was waiting for you to laugh or reveal the scene to be some kind of twisted prank. But when you maintained your serious gaze, he grinned in disbelief.
“I didn’t realize the feeling was mutual,” he said.
“Merlin, you fucking idiot,” you hissed. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Oh, sure, because it would be that simple! I’d just waltz on up to you in the middle of dinner and tell you I’m in love with you,” Sebastian said incredulously. “Besides, you have a boyfriend anyway!”
“I wouldn’t have that boyfriend if you’d told me! Besides, you seem perfectly pleased to fuck every other girl in the school!”
“Only because I couldn’t have the one I wanted!” The absurdity of it all made you dizzy and Sebastian sat back on the sofa looking dazed. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked.
You didn’t need long to decide. It had clearly been a day for bold declarations and daring acts. Why not keep the trend going? You decided you were going to get what you wanted.
“I’m going to fuck you until I’m satisfied, and then I’m going to go break up with my boyfriend for good.”
Before you could give Sebastian a chance to overthink another damn thing, you were on him, your legs straddling him as you mounted his lap and greedily grasped at his necktie. Your first kiss was a stunning reflection of the two of you – passionate and unrefined, not to mention stubborn as you both refused to be the first to pull away.
Finally, you relented, panting as you paused to gaze at Sebastian. You couldn’t help but snort at how positively elated he looked.
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” you laughed.
“Funny, you’re the one who seems so desperate to be fucked,” he replied smoothly. It made you even hornier.
“So be a man of your word then,” you whispered. Your lips crushed against his again and you couldn’t help but rock your hips, the feeling of his erection beneath you stealing the air from your lungs. You shifted so that you could feel his hard length against your clothed entrance and it made you whimper in desperation. The heat was overwhelming.
Sebastian smirked. “You’re absolutely done for, you know that, right?”
“Shut up.” You yanked at his tie for good measure, your fingers working to loosen the knot as your core remained pressed against the bulge in Sebastian’s pants. The way his breaths became ragged indicated he would be just as ruined as you by the time you left that room – if you ever left.
Sebastian’s sweater and shirt followed his tie as you addressed every stupid little button. By the time you reached the bottom, you huffed with annoyance that was short-lived once Sebastian was bare-chested beneath you. You’d seen him shirtless a handful of times, but never close enough to touch, and touch him you did.
Your palms skimmed his chest and torso as you demanded another kiss. You bit down gently on Sebastian’s bottom lip, stirring more arousal from him. Your own shirt didn’t stand a chance.
Buttons popped and sailed around you like confetti before your blouse was discarded on the marble floor. Sebastian’s eyes roamed the new view of flesh above him, but it was clearly not enough. His hands drifted to the clasp of your bra, which snapped apart with precision and joined your shirt on the floor.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” Sebastian hissed as he palmed your breasts. He reveled in the way they filled his hands, soft and full. “Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“I want to hear it.”
“I want you to show me what I’ve been missing. I want you to give me the best fucking of my life.”
“Anything for you, darling.”
His hands roamed beneath the hem of your skirt and your breath hitched as you could feel his warm palms inching up your thighs. A single thumb dared to swipe across your entrance, which had soaked your panties ages ago.
The feeling made Sebastian’s breath hiss. “How did you get so wet?”
“How did you get so dense?”
Your banter was meant to be playful, but Sebastian and all his primal instincts viewed it as a challenge. Though he had every intention of showing you pleasure beyond your darkest dreams, he wasn’t going to give in without some teasing too.
“Calling me dense when you’re clearly dying to have me,” he tutted. “You’ve been awfully bold for someone who hasn’t been fucked for so long.”
His fingers worked their way through the side of your panties and he groaned as they were instantly coated by your wetness before they could even enter you. You whimpered as he dragged two fingers across your folds. “That’s what I thought,” Sebastian teased at your pitiful response to his touch.
He slipped a finger inside of you and you chewed your bottom lip at the sensation. You shifted forward, sending his finger deeper until you were desperate for more pressure.
“More,” you whined. Sebastian obliged. His middle finger joined his index and he used them to gently pump at your core, the base of his hand pressed against your clit. You were so damn sensitive already, you knew you’d unravel within moments.
“Like that?” Sebastian hummed. You nodded, too fixated on your aching cunt to offer a verbal response. Sebastian’s movements stopped. “I said, like that?” You whined in protest. “Fine. Guess you’ll have to do the work yourself.”
Sebastian’s fingers lingered inside you but held still, prompting you to rock against them. You lifted your hips and rocked downward, using his fingers in the way he’d hoped.
He licked his lips at the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers, his pants strained impossibly tight over his arousal. But he waited patiently as you worked yourself over his hand, your walls clenching around his fingers to earn your release.
That tender spot of flesh inside of you pressed repeatedly against Sebastian’s fingertips, the pressure building as the sounds of your slickness exposed your sinful act.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathed as could feel the climax nearing, the peak edging to the surface of your walls until they pulsed with pleasure around Sebastian’s fingers. You moaned as you rode it out, grinding downward so that his fingers dug into your sensitive spot. Sebastian grunted as you flooded his hand, the sensation making his cock twitch with desire.
When your orgasm subsided, you slumped on top of Sebastian to catch your breath.
“Fucking hell,” he said as he examined his coated hand. “I’m never going to recover from this.”
The admission sparked renewed energy within you as you realized the two of you were just getting started. If Sebastian’s fingers could fuck you to completion, you were anxious to learn what his cock could do.
You rose begrudgingly to your feet to slip your skirt and ruined panties off, standing naked over Sebastian, whose erection looked painful inside his tented trousers, damp from your release.
“You’re a fucking vision,” he said as he studied your naked form, his arms outstretched as they rested over the back of the sofa.
You smirked and moved for his belt. He lifted his hips so that you could remove his pants, his boxers following suit, and you had to steel yourself at the full sight of him.
He was bigger than Andrew. You wondered if it would cause the uncomfortable pain you’d felt during your first time. You liked to think you’d had enough experience to become used to it, but your body wasn’t accustomed to accommodating anyone quite so large. The challenge of it all made your core throb with more desire.
You dropped to your knees and took Sebastian into your mouth before he could even think to protest. It was better than you’d dreamed of, smooth like velvet and far too big to fit in your entire mouth – not that you wouldn’t try.
“Fucking hell,” Sebastian hissed as his tip met the back of your throat. His hands balled in your hair and his eyes snapped shut. “This has to be heaven.”
“What makes you think you’re getting into heaven?” you asked, pausing to gaze upward at him with a smirk.
“Fine. If this is hell, I reckon I’ll be just fine.”
Your mouth returned to work and the room fell quiet except for the sound of your lips sharply sucking against his shaft. It made him shudder.
A sharp tug of your hair made you gasp as Sebastian pulled you off his cock. You whined in confusion, but he smirked.
“Let’s give that pretty little mouth of yours a break, love,” he said. “You’re going to need it once you start screaming.”
“But-”
Sebastian held your face in his hands, a loving gesture that juxtaposed the filthy acts you were performing. “If you were anyone else, darling, I’d gladly allow you to continue. But if you keep at it, I’m not going to be able to satisfy you for long. And I want as much time with you as possible.”
It was a vulnerable admission, especially from someone as confident and experienced as Sebastian. The notion that you could absolutely ruin him with your mere mouth made you drunk with power.
“Now,” Sebastian continued as he reached for your hand to tug you closer. You rose to your feet and he peered up at you with a dreamy gaze. “What can we do to relieve the neglect your imbecile of a boyfriend has created?”
A hundred different possibilities flashed through your mind as all of your fantasies clashed at once. You’d spent hours daydreaming of the different ways Sebastian would wreck you – positions that defied physics, vile phrases that insulted the English language, sensations that left your brain a pile of mush. You wanted it all, yet in this moment, you were wholly content to simply feel him in any way he’d allow. And given your mutual epiphanies earlier, there’d be plenty of future opportunities for you and Sebastian to exert your sexual tension.
“First,” you said, your voice husky as you straddled him again, lowering your entrance until it hovered just above his erect cock. The heat made his breath hitch. “I’m going to use you until I come all over your cock.” Sebastian nodded obediently. “And then, you’re going to pin me down and fuck me until every painting in this room has heard your name.”
Sebastian swallowed. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Then we’re both going to die happy, love.”
The decisive moment had arrived as you sank around Sebastian’s tip, slow and steady as the sensation of your folds gliding over his shaft made you hold your breath. Sebastian squeezed your hips in anticipation as he watched you descend far too slowly for his liking. His restraint had nearly disintegrated when you suddenly dropped downward the rest of the way in one quick and fluid motion, the tops of his thighs pressed against your ass. The sudden warmth that enveloped him made Sebastian groan.
“Unreal,” he gasped as you held still in his lap, willing your cunt to accommodate him more. You were gritting your teeth the entire time you stretched around him, exploring his size with determination.
“Fuck, Sebastian,” you whimpered. “You’re big.”
“Oh?” Sebastian chewed on his bottom lip as he smirked at you, though the rise and fall of his chest exposed his fragility. “And here I thought I’d have to measure up to that boyfriend of yours. Guess I easily fill his shoes.”
“And then some,” you moaned. You hadn’t even moved, but the mere feeling of Sebastian filling you entirely was enough to make your cunt threaten to contract. You dared to shift in his lap, leaning in closer to him. He sucked in a sharp breath of air.
“I can see why you were wound so tight now,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Good thing I have you to help me unwind then.” You lifted your hips until your cunt glided upward, hovering around Sebastian’s tip until you dipped downward again. The look on Sebastian’s face was almost as satisfying as the pressure that swelled inside of you.
His hands roamed to your breasts, cupping one in each hand as a thumb gently stroked each nipple. “I want to play with these while you come undone,” he said.
You picked up your pace, using the head of Sebastian’s cock to ignite friction against the sensitive spot deep inside of you. Soon, the sounds of your ass smacking against Sebastian’s thighs coursed through the room as you rose and slammed yourself downward repeatedly.
Sebastian was fighting sensory overload; the erotic sounds of your skin connecting, the sight of your breasts bouncing with every movement, the salty taste of your sweaty skin when he kissed your neck. It was too much, yet not nearly enough.
“M’close,” you moaned as you threw your head back, your eyes squeezed shut as you willed your body to comply. Sebastian’s eyes drifted downward to the place where you were connected. If his cock disappearing into your cunt was the last thing he saw before he died, he’d go willingly.
His thumb pressed against your clit, forcing your eyes to snap open in surprise. “Oh fuck,” you wailed. Your bottom lip was raw and red from the way you were chewing on it, desperate to release the tension coiled inside of you. A few more swipes of Sebastian’s thumb triggered it, your shriek echoing across the stone walls as you rocked forward, holding your hips downward in place as your walls clenched and shuddered around Sebastian’s cock.
Your breaths became short, pitchy gasps as you recovered, your body thoroughly exhausted as you clutched Sebastian’s shoulders for support. He sat with his head tilted backward against the back of the sofa, his eyes clamped shut from bracing himself through your orgasm. His lap now held a puddle of your release and he didn’t bother to hide his arousal from the vulgarity of it all.
Once you caught your breath enough to speak, you uttered a faint laugh. “I really hope this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from,” you said.
“I don’t know,” Sebastian mused, his hands rubbing gentle circles over the tops of your thighs as he gazed at you with fondness. “Personally, I’d stay and live in this dream forever if I could.”
He placed a featherlight kiss on your eyelashes and for a moment, you nearly forgot that you were currently wrapped around his twitching cock. But as Sebastian shifted uncomfortably beneath you, the pressure returned to your core.
“Now,” he said, his hands placed flat against the small of your back. “Let’s make sure you never think about that useless boyfriend ever again.”
He rose, lifting you from the sofa as you wrapped your legs around him for support. He couldn’t help but kiss you, his way of making it clear he was strong enough to hold you in such a position for future engagements. Once he placed you gently on your back, he crawled between your legs, resting back on his heels as he studied your form.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said as he gripped his own cock.
“Show me.”
He was on top of you instantly, one hand supporting his weight while the other guided his cock back to your entrance. He sank inside you again and groaned at the return of your warmth. No one else would ever compare to it and Sebastian was sure he wouldn’t want them anyway. Not when he now knew how it felt to have you entirely.
“One more time for me, love,” he said with a thrust of his hips. “You look positively stunning when you come.” You tightened your legs around him to signal your insatiable hunger.
“Harder,” you ordered. Sebastian would have been a fool to defy you, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you earn it.
His hand snapped to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he bucked his hips for emphasis. The motion rippled through your body, forcing a moan from your throat. “Say please.”
“Please,” you whimpered.
“With feeling.”
“Please.”
“You’re so pretty when you beg.” He pulled his cock out so that only the tip remained against your cunt, swiping it over your clit as he licked his lips at the moisture that clung to it. “So fucking wet for me, too.”
Before you could protest, he dipped his head between your legs to drag his tongue over your raw entrance. It plunged inside your folds and trailed to your clit, where Sebastian’s mouth gently sucked until you kicked your feet from the overwhelming sensitivity.
He slowly crawled back to meet your face, planting a swift kiss on your lips.
“I’m going to love you forever, you know that?”
“I do now,” you breathed. “And the feeling’s mutual. Now shut the fuck up.”
Sebastian pushed his cock back inside you with less restraint this time. It drove deep within your walls in repeated jabs, the sound of your bodies clapping together with each thrust.
The moans that fell from your lips sounded more like a howl as you clenched yourself around Sebastian’s cock in a frantic attempt to draw one more orgasm from it. He held a palm against your chest, pressing you downward into the sofa cushions as he rocked hard against you.
Andrew had never fucked you this hard and you knew you’d never recover from it. There was no returning from a frenzied fucking like this, especially when the only person you’d ever loved was responsible for it.
You cried Sebastian’s name as his cock pounded your cunt, fervidly coaxing your walls to release. You could feel them begin to spasm as they gripped Sebastian’s hard shaft until they finally convulsed, the pleasure eliciting a guttural cry from you. Your entire body responded this time, your back arching and legs quaking as the orgasm rippled through you until you were left squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to prolong its final flutters.
You were absolutely fucked out beyond ruin, and Sebastian’s reward surfaced quickly. The sight of you so drained, so satiated by your undoing, confirmed that he was entirely lost in you. He was yours now and he’d be damned if Andrew Larson or any other brainless oaf tried to claim you ever again.
“Fucking hell,” he choked as he continued to rail his cock inside your tired cunt. “Ready to be mine?”
You nodded, still aroused by the anticipation of Sebastian finishing inside of you. Another moan escaped your lips and Sebastian grunted, forcing his cock hard into you as he spurted his release. It painted your insides with warmth, signaling the end of your romp, Sebastian’s labored breaths marking the final moments of his climax.
Your eyelids were heavy as you became hyperaware of just how worn out your body was, but all of the tension you’d carried for the past few weeks was gone. You were relaxed now. Sebastian had certainly delivered on his promise.
When you let your eyes drift open again, you realized he was still above you, gazing at you with renewed affection.
“All right?” he asked. You offered him the prettiest smile you could manage.
“What do you think?”
“I think you ought to go break up with that boyfriend of yours.”
“Sebastian, you’re literally still inside me. Do you really think I’m concerned with anyone else right now?”
“Oh. Too right, you are.” He was lingering, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was tired or because he wanted to prolong the moment. Whatever the reason, you were in no rush to part from him. He seemed to be studying you, and you recognized the familiar tells that he was deep in thought, like his furrowed eyebrows and slight pout.
“Anything you care to share with the class?” you murmured.
“It’s just that… I mean, you and I-” Sebastian struggled for the right words. “This wasn’t a one-time thing, right?”
“I fucking hope not.”
“Good. Because you’ve absolutely ruined me for life.”
Finally, he drew backward and straightened, offering you a hand to help you to your feet. Your eyes fell to your crumpled shirt on the floor and you heaved a sigh. The buttons were gone, the threads that held them shredded and torn beyond Reparo.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” you whined as you held the shirt up to show Sebastian the results of his impatience. He looked far too smug for your liking.
“Guess you’ll just have to wear mine,” he said with a shrug. He bent down to pick up his sweater and tossed it to you. “Too hot for me to be wearing this anyway.” You slipped it over your head, its large sleeves swallowing your arms, the initials “S.S.” embroidered in green over your left breast. It smelled like him – warm and woodsy. Though it was far too big for you, you decided you’d never give it back.
“I look ridiculous,” you huffed. Sebastian, however, beamed at you with pride.
“You look fucking sinful,” he declared, his grin revealing his glee.
Once you were both clothed, albeit visibly disheveled, you slipped from the Room of Requirement and descended the staircase.
“Hungry?” you asked Sebastian as you reached the lower level of the Astronomy Wing. He nodded but you frowned as he veered in the direction opposite the Great Hall. “Where are you going?” you asked as you clung to his arm.
Sebastian glanced sideways at you and smirked, taking in the sight of you in his oversized sweater, his initials marking his new territory.
“I believe we need to make a stop in the library first.”
summary: After losing your virginity to Sebastian Sallow and graduating Hogwarts, you stumble across the Room of Requirement one summer day in July for some research and end up finding him in there by coincidence.
You haven't talked to Sebastian Sallow since graduation, but things become a difficult task when you spot Sebastian wearing gray sweatpants for the very first time.
warnings: contains nudity, sexual themes and mature content that is not advised for younger viewers. all characters are aged up!
a/n: I wrote it in Ao3 too hehe. dedicated to my discord fam for the light pressure. you could join us for laughs and content here's the link too. enjoy xx
===================
The day had been humidly hot. You’d been taking several side quests that morning, in seek of informative clues on an artifact, but had to stumble into the castle to find a few historic books that might’ve contained information about it.
Your boots echoed over Hogwarts halls. The castle had been empty. It only made sense since it was mid-July and everyone practically needed to take advantage of their break. Only the portraits were there to feel less lonely, yet they stared at you oddly for being there when classes weren’t in session.
You were melting by the time you slipped into the Room of Requirement. Luckily, the secluded room had everything you required: a quiet space, a cooling charm, and the one book you were in need of.
Even Deek, the elf, took his time for a break, so you took full advantage of an empty castle and slipped off the sticky first layer of your gear, throwing it messily over the sofa in the room.
“Ah,” You let out softly, taking a seat on the sofa for a brief moment.
Only a tank top and your rusty pants stayed intact.
You were in need of a nap, but when you were nearing a dream state, a small noise caught your attention. Your eyes opened, looking around the setting, but witnessed nothing.
Instead of sleeping more, you slipped up from the sofa and began to scan your wand over the small library you organized since your fifth year. It was surprising to think after years, it was still clean and organized.
“History of - no, The Ancient - no, that’s not it.” You bit your lip, struggling to find the book that you needed. “I swear it was in here before grad—“
“Err,”
A voice cut the concentration and you nearly hit your head above the small library shelf from the call. And you turned, confronting a figure you didn’t expect to see on a hot July.
You hadn’t seen Sebastian Sallow since graduation. Not that it was on purpose, but a few weeks before the ceremony, there were drunken confessions about being virgins in a Hufflepuff after-party and you both lost your virginity to each other that night.
It wasn’t awkward. You thought about that night every day since, but after Sebastian flicked it off like nothing, and never spoke about it again, even at graduation, you slipped it off.
You two agreed to a ‘see you later’ farewell.
It got to you, but instead of owling him over the summer, you distracted yourself with horrid side quests. Even if you wondered if he regretted that night or not.
You could barely look at Sebastian in front of you. Or what he wore. You were more intrigued by the thought of why he was there in the first place.
“Sebastian?” You scoffed. You nearly stuttered. “What - what…what the hell are you doing here?”
“I could say the same?” He questioned you.
The audacity he had.
But then you saw his state and your brain just — twisted.
A white, tight regular shirt clung to his upper body. It stretched over his chest and the short sleeves hugged his biceps, enough to reveal a toned muscle that hadn’t been there before.
You had seen him naked in the past, on that night, but it seemed like the past few months changed his appearance a little.
His brown hair tousled down his forehead, and it seemed damp like he had just taken a shower from the Scottish heat too.
But it wasn’t the shirt or the hair that distracted you. No.
He wore a layer of grey sweatpants.
It’d been the new gossip for men. This attire.
The pants sat low on his hips, giving a small inch of separation of the shirt and the waistline. You could see a bit of his hips as he stretched his arm up to run a few fingers through his soft brown hair.
He looks so good. You thought to yourself.
Though you’d cooled enough from the Room of Requirement’s cooling air, another droplet of sweat dripped down the side of your forehead from the view.
“The same?” You were a bit offended by his questioning. “It’s mid-July. I wouldn’t expect anyone in the castle right now.”
He pursed his lips, his brown eyes looking straight down your clothing.
You had certainly forgotten you’d stripped off layers of your outfit minutes prior and his eyes took every misbehaving advantage to stare right at your tank top, the skin plastered on you.
Noticing his loss of focus, he gazed to the side, ashamed of his actions, and sighed. “Me neither. That’s why I was here.”
“Were you taking a shower?” You furrowed at him, noticing the clean scent that drifted through your nostrils as he moved. “In my Room of Requirement?”
“Whoa,” Sebastian scoffed, but it was mixed with his iconic smirk that was hard to ignore. “My? I believe the Room of Requirement belongs to any student in need.”
“We graduated already. We aren’t students.”
“Then it’s not yours either,” Sebastian lashed back at you.
This was one thing you hated about him. Despite the huge crush you hid from him since meeting the fifth year, there were clashes of talks where he would prove you wrong and you’d get mad.
You swallowed, looking to the side. Your eyes were prying enough on the grey sweatpants on him, so you looked down at the carpeted floor.
“I shower here sometimes,” Sebastian admitted to you, answering your thoughts. “Somehow, the way you conjured that shower in the bathroom here the fifth year can’t compare to the one at Feldcroft.” He murmured.
You raised a brow. “So…you’ve been coming here over the summer to just take a shower randomly?”
“Occasionally. Not all the time.” He corrected. “But…with this heat, who would not?”
You wanted to sigh. It was a very Sebastian Sallow thing of him to do.
“It’s not just showers. I could relax here on the sofa, or chill in the Vivarium. I don’t know why any of the other students don't think wisely of being here in the summer. It’s a cooling system too with this weather.”
“I know.” You huffed, wiping your forehead from the sweat.
Sebastian brought his stare back at you. He couldn’t help it. He’d also wonder about you. About that night, but his ego won him over and he never brought it up.
It seemed like a miracle for him to see you show up here. But also an edging feeling to see you wearing just one layer of clothing right in front of his eyes.
“I’d assume from your stance down there,” he pointed at the library, “You came for a book?”
You sighed, crossing your arms and staring at the one shelf you hit your head in.
“Yeah…Madam Stain needed information on this artifact from Manor’s Cape, but I needed more study on it and all.”
Sebastian nodded. “Did you find it?”
“Well, I’m empty-handed, so no.”
He chuckled. God, that attitude of yours.
“Right,” Sebastian nodded. “Did you check the upper shelf?” His eyes lifted above you.
“No. I always placed my books in my height level. I wouldn’t consider it being there—“
“It’s not just your Room of Requirement, you know?” Sebastian blurbed at you, walking past your shoulder and glancing at the place you were in.
Turning, you watched Sebastian.
He had his back on you, yet, it gave the perfect outlook to admire the way his back muscles thrilled over the white fabric.
The shirt barely fit him. Was he insane?
You felt the heat. Not from the weather anymore, but a heated sensation between your legs from watching him. You flushed to yourself, knowing that it was out of your control, especially already being sexually active now.
You knew the feeling.
“History of what exactly?” Sebastian only turned his head to the side, side-eyeing you to give him an answer.
But you forgot. Your plan was to skim through several books until you found the right paragraph, but with him around, you wanted to act tough.
“You don’t know which one, right?” Sebastian teased from your silence.
You sighed. “It’s whatever. You could go. I’ll take care of it.”
“It’s fine. I have time to spare.” Sebastian motioned his arm down, placing his hand inside his grey sweatpants.
Again, that same pulsating feeling.
You flushed, not wanting to make eye contact with him, but didn’t say a word.
“We do have a lot to catch up on anyway, don’t we?” He laughed it off.
===================
You couldn’t concentrate, even if you bloody tried. Not when you sat right across Sebastian Sallow in crossed sofas half an hour later, watching him skim through books too.
His legs spread on the seat like he owned the space. One of his arms draped lazily over the backrest of the sofa while the other held another random book in hand.
The manspreading wasn’t new. The Sallow man often did that everywhere in his times with you at Hogwarts, but not with grey sweatpants.
You tended not to stare, but your eyes would often fail to read the historical book at your level and stare directly between his legs. The small bulge of his seemed to be staring directly at you.
You wondered if he had done that on purpose. It was clear you were seeing it on fixation if you lowered your book. And it’d often move as Sebastian would lower a hand to flip a page and set it back on the backrest.
Your breath became a bit premature from the feeling you felt in the course of your core. It never went away, but you often had to crisscross and uncross your legs to take it away, but it kept pulsating more and more.
“Found anything, yet?”
His voice call made the book in your hand slip out of you, onto the floor from the cut-out and a laugh escaped him from across.
“Did I scare you?”
“You made me lose my page, Sallow,” You murmured, bending down to grab the book, but you were trying to hide the flush that came up from his talk.
You were never nervous to talk to Sebastian. Hell, you spoke to him every day since transferring to Hogwarts, but since that intimate night, you felt nervous.
How ironic since you let him see all parts of you with trust.
“I found something,”
As you picked up the book from the floor and attempted to lean back onto the sofa, you heard the sofa across make a weird noise and as you stared up, you watched Sebastian come to you.
The sofa you sat in dipped slightly from his weight and he sat close enough that the edge of his knee brushed yours.
“Look at this,” He said.
You felt Sebastian lean back beside you, one arm coming back behind both of you, hanging it lazily so that you could see the other end from the corner of your eyes. And he sat there, holding the book up, enough for both perspectives to read.
It was not normal.
You didn’t feel normal just sitting here alone with him in the Room of Requirement and attempting to read a paragraph you no longer cared about.
The fresh clean breeze of his post-shower lingered on you. If he dipped his head more down, you would have been able to feel his brown baby hairs tickle your nose, and feel the warmth of his body — the same warmth that made you a disaster that same night—
Sebastian Sallow was the same.
Dare, he gave no shits about a bloody excerpt of a stupid artifact. Since seeing you observe the library while coming out of the bathroom, he held all his will to not pin you in every corner of the Room of Requirement and make up for the lack of sex he hadn’t given you.
Seeing you wear the tank top didn’t do it justice. With each call out on him, your breasts would often make a bouncy movement, making him turn his gaze to the side not to goggle more before his cock strained over the thin fabric of his sweatpants.
And now as he attempted to show you a paragraph on an artifact, he was no longer reading the words — his eyes were directly down your breasts, and so close.
“Hey,” He whispered.
You hadn’t noticed how the patterns of your breaths began to increase with every diabolical thought that fumed inside your head. Inside your body now. Your lips parted every second as you heard Sebastian’s voice.
“Hm?” You didn’t stare at him.
Instead, your eyes were gawking on the grey sweatpants, but now, you’ll see how the once soft bulge that rested nicely in between his legs hardened. The outline of his cock sat nicely on the material, it was bizarre they were even selling these.
He was hard.
Sebastian Sallow was hard.
He felt the same way.
Sebastian gathered your view, looking down at himself. His face flushed from embarrassment, the freckles illuminating him as he cleared his throat and smirked.
“Pardon,” His hands palmed his boner, hiding it away and laughing it off. “It’s just—“
The intrusive thoughts inside your head won now. You hadn’t known how you found yourself taking that book out of Sebastian’s hands and throwing it across the room, but you did it and then latched your lips onto his.
The kiss had been sloppy.
Sebastian didn’t make a stop to it. At first, he’d been shocked by your actions, but when he felt your lips, the same lips he yearned and masturbated to, he didn’t hold back either.
His hands caged over the sides of your face before lowering down your waist, feeling the perfect inch of your skin from scrunching the tank top that distracted him. He used your hips as a lever to shift your positions on the sofa and make you get on top of him.
As both of your legs draped on his sides, Sebastian’s tongue dug into your mouth, fighting its way to find yours as his large hands traced your lower waist and rubbed circles.
“Hm,” You hummed, feeling the rising erecting outline under your pants from the position.
You noticed as you rolled your hips on top of Sebastian, you’d often feel his cock twitch below you, giving you an easy ride to shift back and forth and cure your pulsating core.
“I,” Sebastian removed his tongue from your mouth, and stared at you brown-eyed and breathless. “-missed you.” Then he dipped his mouth into your neck, licking and sucking it not giving you time to respond fairly.
“Oh,” Your head tilted back, letting the heat of his mouth suck hungrily into your neck as you kept rubbing yourself on him and using your hands over his shoulders as a control. “I missed - oh - missed you, too.”
While your hips rolled like no tomorrow, Sebastian became hard as a rock beneath you. What was once a satisfying feeling now became an edging feeling from the layers of clothing.
You were dry-humping each other.
Both of you didn’t even do this before. The first time was nerve-wracking and you two got completely naked ahead, but right now, you rubbed against each other like two teenagers.
You felt the straps of your tank top begin to fall off from your shoulder and Sebastian’s fingers yanked them off, making your breast air out in the cool setting.
“Fuck,” Sebastian’s mouth fed into your left breast, making you curse and accumulate the speed of rubbing yourself on top of his sweatpants.
Sebastian noticed the cues of your movements. He’ll be happy to lose himself inside of you, but watching you roll your hips above him and making the foreskin of his cock slide in and out without even taking off his pants turned him on.
It edged him badly.
“Does it feel good?” Sebastian asked, removing his mouth from your breasts.
You nodded, not wanting to say a word.
Sebastian’s hands placed on your back again and pushed your lower body much forward, helping you rub yourself on top of him.
“Take off your pants, darling,” He ordered huskily over your earlobe.
But you’d been enjoying yourself over his pants.
“Don’t worry, I won’t move,” Sebastian said cockily, as he read your worry of thoughts.
Your pants and underwear hung on the armrest of the sofa and soon enough, you’d found yourself on top of Sebastian again, right above the thick layer of his grey sweatpants naked.
They shouldn’t have been considered pants. The way his cock felt clear enough rubbing down your core. The way you’d been soaking wet from the arousal your dampness began to bleed through his pants easily.
Sebastian stopped kissing you for a moment of speed, resting his head on the backrest of the sofa behind him and intensely watching you massage over him. From sweats and flushes, a small smile formed on his face watching you enjoy yourself.
Then he began to feel wet over his pants. Your arousal had transferred enough to reach his skin and make him twitch with every second.
“You’re - so - harddd,” You whimpered.
“Y-Yes, I am.” Sebastian cooed, raising a hand to caress the side of your face. “I haven’t stopped thinking about that night or you.”
Your eyes closed from his honesty.
“It’s been killing me,”
“Well,” You had a gut feeling to throw in a challenge. “What are you waiting for? I’m right—“
He didn’t let you finish. You watched as Sebastian wrapped his strong arm around your lower body, lifting you for a second before using his free hand to lower his grey sweatpants a little and spring out his lubricated cock under you.
“Yeah?” He asked with consent.
You didn’t answer, instead, you lowered your own hand, positioning his cock over your entrance and sinking down on him.
It was better than the first time. From how heated and wet you’d both been, you dipped in every single inch of Sebastian Sallow proudly. It was warm and hot, and satisfying to hear the once-rubbing noise turn into a sloppy, wet noise in minutes.
Sebastian groaned with the feeling again, and you felt his hand grasp your thigh, restraining himself from going all in and taking advantage.
“Fuck,” He said beneath his breath.
Your hips rolled in sync, the same way you were dry-humping him, but this time, you felt him all. You felt how the tip of his cock would tickle down your cervix from every hop and how you’d moan in pleasurable pain on every sweat.
You’d often look back behind your shoulder, eyeing the grey sweatpants that hadn’t even been slid off correctly on Sebastian. He’d only made space for you to use him for pleasure, but the pants were still over his knees.
The forbidden grey sweatpants that led to it all.
“Oh,” You moaned.
“Sweetheart,” The pet names drove you insane. He’d often say them as a joke, but with each call, you’ll clench beneath him. “Shit — let’s conjure a bed…y-yeah? Let me feel myself inside you properly?” He begged.
You were muted. Too numb from the pleasure.
“We don’t have to—“
With the use of your Ancient Magic, you sprawled a conjured bed in the middle of the Room of Requirement and nodded.
Sebastian found it attractive to see you use your magic for things like this. It was like free will on your end and he couldn’t wait how far desperation could get you.
You gasped, feeling your head hit the pillows from Sebastian throwing you, but without a thought in your erotic little head of yours, Sebastian plunged inside of you again, pleasuring you endlessly.
“Oh, Sebastian!”
You could smell his clean aroma on your nose as you dreamt of it, and your fingers reached his dampened hair, digging through it with every thrust of his. The desperation had been tough, you used your magic again to make his white shirt disappear and get the man naked above you.
“…needy,” Sebastian whispered within his hips.
But he loved it.
Sebastian’s lips brushed against yours over the sex. His beady eyes would often shut close, squeezing them to hold back a finish, but it became difficult when it had been months without you, Without being inside of you.
“You feel - so - good,”
“Finish,” You begged. “…do it.”
“I’m gonna have - to pull out -“ Sebastian said in guilt.
“It’s alright,” You sweated over the whispers. “I’m taking the prevention pill.”
Sebastian breathed heavily from the news, but he was too distracted by a finish. But the idea of you being on a pill to not get pregnant terrified him that you must’ve been active over the months with other people —
“I got on it after that night,” You whispered. “I have been waiting for you to make use of it, Sallow.”
That was it. That’s all it took for Sebastian to groan out the most disastrous, impossible moans of mankind as he slammed into you one last time and clashed his chest over yours.
==================
“Please, don’t wear those pants around me.” You murmured within the halls of the castle.
Sebastian walked beside you. Both of you were sweaty and messy, but after your session, Sebastian offered to accompany you to return the artifact with the book in Manor’s Cape.
“Hm,” Sebastian gave a tired laugh, his hands tugged into his sweatpants. He had to use a cleaning charm to remove all the mess you previously made. He didn’t want to do it, but you demanded. “I’ll try.”
You rolled your eyes, but you felt an arm hang around your shoulder and you smiled.
“Now, to make up for these months you didn’t owl me.” He joked but planted a kiss on your forehead.
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Summary: Ominis, Caerwyn, and Sebastian surrender to their shared desires for the first time. What begins with uncertainty blooms into full-bodied, devastating pleasure. Or: Ominis is touched, kissed, and sucked for the first time.
Chapter rating: NSFW🔥| Pairing: MC x Sebastian x Ominis |
Spice: 🌶︎🌶︎🌶︎🌶︎/5
Triggers/Tags: threesome, M/M/F; oral sex (blow job); explicit sexual language (aka, dirty talk); massage; fluff; dominant Sebastian; submissive Ominis; switch MC; Ominis's first time; polyamory; married couple (Sebastian x MC); established friendship; everyone is aged up, 25+
@butternutt613 - here you go, dear. The long-awaited second part! Thank you for being so patient with me! (And for continuing to be patient...because we still have two more parts to go... I promise it won't take me a fucking month and a half to deliver the next part.)
“Relax,” Sebastian chuckled as he settled on the couch beside Ominis.
“That is easier said than done,” his fellow Slytherin murmured beneath his breath.
“We don’t bite.”
The blind wizard felt Caerwyn shift on the other side of him - the sound of linen whispering against the couch’s velveteen cushions. He imagined her drawing her feet up and tucking them beneath her; the sound certainly matched the position, at least to his reckoning.
“Well,” Sebastian’s voice deepened as a playful drawl elongated his vowels, “I bite. But only if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Ominis murmured.
And that, really, was the crux of his anxiety. After their mutual revelations in Caerwyn’s office, they had all agreed to give it a few days before reconvening to talk things out. Ominis had insisted that his two friends enjoy their planned Valentine’s Day evening out as husband and wife; he had spent the whole of that night alone in deep contemplation. The inevitable, inescapable conclusion he had come to after eight hours of sleeplessness in his Hogwarts staff quarters was that he wanted this.
Caerwyn was empathic; Sebastian was impulsive; Ominis, however, was painstakingly analytical. He could overthink the slightest nuance and remember a single awkward sentence spoken in his first year. But for the first time in his life, no matter how much he tried to talk himself out of embracing the unexpected truth revealed in Caerwyn’s perfume, he kept landing on “you’ll regret it if you don’t try”. There was hardly anyone he could talk to about the situation besides Caerwyn and Sebastian, so he’d approached them over the following days and shared his fears, his boundaries, and his hopes. They had done the same with him, and all three had agreed that tonight, they were going to see where their hearts and bodies led them.
Dinner had been simple but delicious - a thick stew appropriate for the still-chilly season, with beef, root vegetables, barley, and a dash of dark honey mead. This had been followed by Caerwyn’s bara brith - a tea loaf made with dried fruits soaked in black tea and spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg, and a touch of orange zest - served warm with a bit of butter on top. It had been a delicious combination, and a not-so-subtle pairing of Sebastian’s Scottish heartiness and Caerwyn’s Welsh warmth. True to her word, Caer had provided Ominis his promised glass of wine, though he hadn’t taken her up on a second one.
He wanted his mind clear for the night ahead. Sebastian was currently nursing a dark ale from the smell of it, and Caerwyn had sipped a cider during dinner. But like Ominis himself, they imbibed only enough to take the edge off without dulling their senses or capacity to consent.
Unfortunately, to Ominis’s senses, they seemed quite relaxed after their libations. He, on the other hand, still felt as wound tight as a spring.
“You know, Ominis, we don’t have to go all the way in one night. We can take our time, take it slow,” Caerwyn said gently from his left.
“You set the pace, like we agreed,” Sebastian added supportively.
Ominis felt the weight of his fellow Slytherin’s hand land gently on his right knee. He knew it was Sebastian’s hand, not just from the fact that he was sitting opposite Caerwyn, but because the weight and width of his hand was noticeably, uniquely different from his wife’s. Sebastian had a heavy touch - which wasn’t to say it was rough. It certainly wasn’t at the moment. But his hands were large, and his fingers thick, and his bones seemed to give his touch a certain depth and pressure that Caerwyn’s lighter, slimmer, smaller hand didn’t. Ominis let out a shaky breath and tentatively slid his own slender hand over Sebastian’s.
It felt so good to be touched.
“I don’t even know where to start,” he confessed.
Caerwyn hummed softly into the following, uncertain silence. “You’re as tight as a bowstring, Ominis. Perhaps you could let Sebastian rub your shoulders?”
That...that did sound nice. Though he was surprised that she had suggested Sebastian instead of herself - and said so. Caer laughed softly.
“He’s much better at it than I am. Trust me.”
Ominis took another few cautious seconds to consider how he felt about the matter. Then, reminding himself gently that he’d promised both himself and them that he’d try to be as open as he could to the experience, he nodded.
“All right, then.”
“Might want to take a few layers off, then,” Sebastian’s voice was a husky timbre Ominis hadn’t heard from him before, and it made a gentle warmth pool low in his belly. “Better experience if it’s skin to skin.”
“Right.” Ominis licked his lips nervously and lifted his fingers toward his slim cravat.
“Mind if I help?” Caerwyn asked gently.
At first, Ominis wondered if she had seen the slight tremor in his hand, but there was a breathy quality to her voice that hadn’t been there before. Which suggested to him that she was…excited? aroused? stimulated?...by the idea of helping him undress. He hesitated for a moment, then lowered his hands with another almost-shy dip of his head.
“Not at all.”
“All right. I’ll start with your cravat, then.” Caer followed her soft words with softer hands.
He felt her reach for him before she touched him - some delicate shift in the air, like the way a candle’s flame flickered just before a hand drew near. Then her fingers were at his throat, and Ominis forgot how to move or speak. He could only breathe, suddenly shallow and light, as she brushed her fingers against the knot of his cravat.
He had fastened it that morning with practiced precision, in a firm, impeccable knot. It would seem that cravats, as a whole, were slowly fading out of fashion, but Ominis liked them. The tuck and fold of the fabric made more sense to his fingers than a thinner tie; the rhythm of binding a cravat at his throat often kept his hands steady and gave him something to put neatly into order whenever the rest of him felt frayed at the seams. But now, under Caerwyn’s fingers, the silk cloth felt less like clothing and more like a noose.
Not because she was bungling the untying of it. Oh no - her touch was maddeningly gentle, slow and almost reverent. It was the intimacy of the moment that closed his throat and softened his breath; he hadn’t had someone dress him, much less undress him, since he was a very small boy.
Learning to dress himself had been a triumph at the time - and sometimes still felt that way, depending on what decided to fight him on a rushed or bleary-eyed morning - and it had been his first true assertion of independence. To feel someone’s breath brush steadily against his cheek…to feel their knuckles skim his throat…to hear the faint sound of their fingertips tracing the folds of his cravat with a tenderness he hardly felt he’d earned…
Oh, it was a powerful, nigh indescribable thing. Emotion choked his throat and tightened the usually comforting feel of the cravat knotted at the base of his neck.
The silk between Caerwyn’s fingers caught for a moment, and so did Ominis’s breath. His heart stuttered, in fact, and he was certain he could feel it - how fast his heartbeat was, how ragged. There was nowhere to hide with her leaning in so close, with her warm body pressing lightly against his left arm and the heat of her skin ghosting across his own.
The second fold of his cravat came undone with a sigh of silk. Caer was undoing him, it felt like, stitch by stitch, and Ominis was helpless to do anything but sit there, held firm in the orbit of her quiet gravity. He was well aware that she could have been a lot more businesslike about the whole affair, but it truly felt as though his old friend - his former fiancée - understood, in a way that surpassed the need for words, how much this moment meant to him.
He heard the whisper as the fabric slid through her fingers; felt her pull it slowly away from around his neck. Ominis heard her breathe slower now, too; it felt as if something more profound than the untying of a cravat had just settled between them. Then she told him, in a voice low and unbearably sweet, that she was going to unbutton his waistcoat. He swallowed and nodded his consent for a third time in what felt like as many minutes.
He barely registered Sebastian murmuring something about going to “go get a few things”; barely felt the shift and rise of the cushion beside him as his dearest friend in the world stood and padded across the stone floor in his bare feet. Ominis’s entire focus was centered around the fact that Caerwyn had just swung a leg over his lap and now straddled him, as her fingers slowly pushed each button of his waistcoat through its embroidered holes.
Then she was pulling the waistcoat off of him, forcing him to lean forward so she could work it over his shoulders and down the backs of his arms. Ominis felt the heat of her body against his face, and the twin mounds that pressed lightly, suddenly against his cheeks were unmistakable. He was certain his nose was practically in her cleavage - but despite his face flushing, he felt gripped by a powerful desire to touch, to confirm that yes, that was exactly what he was feeling, barely a breath from his face.
“Do I - ” he paused, licked his lips, and tried again. “Do I ask before…?” I touch, he wanted to say, but the words caught in his throat.
He had asked Sebastian and Caerwyn to ask, or at the very least announce, when and where they were going to touch him, at least until he got comfortable with them doing so. But he wasn’t quite sure what was polite or preferred on their end. There had been so much focus, thus far, on his comfort and pace, that he’d selfishly forgotten to clarify what they liked and wanted from him as a lover.
“I like a bolder touch,” Caerwyn murmured, and she sounded shy, to his surprise. “As you can imagine, Sebastian rarely has the patience to ask.” She assured him, wordlessly, with a soft laugh that this was hardly a point of contention between the two.
“No,” Ominis answered dryly. “I imagine he doesn’t.”
“Do you mind if I unbutton your shirt while you explore?” Caerwyn’s fingers barely touched the fabric of his crisply laundered shirt as she traced a path up the inside of his arm.
“No.” Ominis couldn’t bring himself to say anything more, and he supposed nothing more needed to be spoken.
He lifted tentative hands to where his face had hovered just moments before. Caerwyn’s deep, slow exhale ruffled the hair along his forehead as he brushed his fingers against the front curve of her clothed breasts in an inquisitive first pass. He was distracted at first by the texture of her blouse - it was ruffled in the front from the feel of it, and he hadn’t expected that, being used to his far plainer, generally unadorned masculine fashion. So it took him a second to figure out what seemed to billow ever so slightly over the curve of her breasts. Then he was distracted by the feel of cool air against his bare chest, and he leaned forward again so she could push his opened shirt over the line of his shoulders.
This time, he was just a bit bolder with where his face went - though, in later reminiscing, he’d wonder if Caerwyn hadn’t leaned forward to encourage him. His nose, forehead, and cheeks pressed into such firm, plump softness that he couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped into the ruffled blouse of hers. Once she worked his shirt free of his arms, he slid his hands up the length of her ribs and pulled his face back out just far enough to cup her breasts in his palms, fingers splayed wide to hold as much of her as he could.
He didn’t have to try that hard, really. She fit perfectly into the hollow of his hand. Ominis dimly registered the sound of Sebastian returning from wherever he had gone - barely felt the cool air of the sitting room brushing over his bare skin. He had his hands on Caer. On his Caer. And that was all that mattered to him for several long seconds.
Although…
“I thought they were…stiffer,” he murmured, marveling as her warm skin molded to his grip beneath the fabric between them. He felt, more than heard, the puff of Caerwyn’s chest as she huffed in gentle amusement.
“That would be a corset, darling. I don’t wear one when I’m home,” she paused, and his pulse quickened as she arched her back and pushed her breasts more firmly into his grasp. “Especially if I know it’ll just get in the way of things.”
Her voice was simultaneously light and heavy - breathy, and yet deepened ever so slightly with something secret and sensuous. This was the first time Ominis was truly hearing it. The shift in Caer’s usually clear, crisp tone into something so sultry and warm made his skin feel tight around his bones.
“I see you two got started without me,” Sebastian’s gentle teasing cut through the fog of Ominis’s lust.
He almost pulled his hands away from Caerwyn’s breasts, but she caught his wrist at the last moment, pressed her palms over the tops of his hands, and held them resolutely in place.
“Nothing changes just because Sebastian’s here,” the smile in her voice gentled her words into something more reassuring than abrupt. “That’s the whole point of this. He gets to enjoy what you do to me, Ominis.”
“And enjoy I will.” From the direction of his friend’s voice, he was standing behind the couch - which meant, Ominis realized with a flush of mortification, that Sebastian likely had a clear view of him mauling his wife’s chest.
The wizard felt his cheeks redden and almost lost the thread of the moment. But then Caerwyn wordlessly guided his fingers to the buttons at the front and center of her blouse, and her request was clear: unbutton them. And yet...Ominis hesitated, if only for a breath.
“Caer gets rather contrary when she doesn’t get what she wants, when she wants it,” Sebastian said lightly from above where he sat. “I’d get that blouse off of her before she starts telling you how to do it.”
“I’m not that bad!” Caerwyn insisted as Ominis fought with her impossibly tiny buttons.
“Sweetheart, why do you think I put something in your mouth more often than not?”
Ominis’s fingers fumbled. “In your mouth?” he gave himself permission to repeat after a few scandalized seconds.
“My cock usually sorts her out real fast -”
The casualness with which Sebastian spoke so crudely of his wife had Ominis gaping in shock, buttons momentarily forgotten. But true to form, his fellow Slytherin kept going without missing a beat.
“ - But if that’s otherwise engaged, I’ll shut her up with my hand over her mouth, or my fingers in her mouth.” Sebastian paused and mused, as if this were perfectly acceptable conversation. “There was a balled-up cravat once. A tie. A neckerchief. Whatever’s handy. I’ve been known to get creative.”
To his embarrassment, Sebastian’s casual lewdness was having an effect on Ominis; his trousers felt significantly tighter than they had before his friend returned and started talking. Flustered, he tried to shift his focus from himself to Caerwyn - but on second thought, that was a mistake. Her breath was faster, quicker, and something radiated off of her that he couldn’t name. It wasn’t heat, per se - but she still straddled his thighs, and he could feel a new tension in her body that hadn’t been there moments before. Did she...did she like being talked to, talked about, this way?
“Say,” Sebastian cheerfully cut through Ominis’s gathering fog of confusion and lust, “move forward a bit, will you? Closer to the edge of the couch. I’m going to sit behind you for this.”
Ominis wasn’t sure how two full-grown men were going to comfortably sit in such a fashion - the couch was deep, but not that deep. And while he’d never touched Sebastian as an adult, he had a sense of his friend’s build from the magical echolocation of his wand - the Scottish wizard was broad and had much more width about him compared to Ominis’s own relatively slight frame. But Caer was already scooting back toward his knees and encouraging him with gentle touches about his shoulders and upper arms to shift forward with her.
There were a few moments of quiet rearranging. Ominis heard Sebastian mutter a few spells under his breath, followed by the scrape of what he guessed was a low table dragged across the floor toward their far right - deeper into the shadows of the almost cavernous space that Caer and Sebastian used as their drawing room. Then came the heavier shift of the second couch, which Ominis knew faced the one upon which he sat - by the sound of it, Sebastian turned it around and then pulled it closer to them. Ominis could sense it stop just shy of the tips of his shoes, in fact. Then he felt weight settle against the back of the couch behind him, and the next thing he knew, Sebastian was sliding himself into what space had been made between Ominis and the cushions he’d been leaning against.
Sebastian’s legs parted wide around his hips; their thighs pressed firmly together as his friend settled in behind him. Acutely aware of space, texture, pressure, and heat, Ominis was momentarily flustered by the brief slide of a very distinctive bulge down his lower back, which then nestled flush against the seat of his trousers as Sebastian sank into the cushions. He was certain Sebastian didn’t mean to draw all of his attention to the apex of his obscenely opened thighs, but his friend wiggled against him a bit as he made himself comfortable, and Ominis had never been more aware of a singular point of another person’s body before in his life.
“Finish opening up our little badger’s blouse, Ominis.” Sebastian uncorked something as he spoke, and the scent of firewhiskey and oranges saturated the air. “I want to see those gorgeous tits.”
The intersection of an Amortentia-laced scent and Sebastian’s vulgarity made Ominis wonder, for half a second, if he’d sleepwalked into a crossroads the night before and made a deal with the devil. Confusion, indignation, and arousal mixed into a heady brew in his veins, and for several seconds, the young wizard was almost certain he’d pass out from palpitations. After opening and closing his mouth silently for several embarrassing seconds, however, Ominis found his voice and twisted around as best he could to face Sebastian’s general direction.
“Do you always speak so...so...lewdly to and about your wife?”
“Tits” was a lowbrow word. Indecent and shocking. Ominis had only heard it uttered once - out of the mouth of a Victor Rookwood wannabe, in fact - and his distaste for such vulgarity had persisted ever since. To hear it out of Sebastian’s mouth, and so casually, was simultaneously appalling and -
Ominis felt his skin flush all the way down to his chest.
It was simultaneously appalling and arousing.
“She likes it,” Sebastian countered, a touch defensively. A pause, a beat of breath, then, “You do like it, right, love?”
“Yes,” Caerwyn’s voice was warm and, to Ominis’s shock, amused. “I like it quite a lot, in fact.”
Ominis sputtered, her buttons and breasts completely forgotten. “But you are a titled lady! Your family is descended from the greatest king Great Britain has ever known - and three of the greatest mages!”
“That’s sort of the point in some ways, Ominis.” Caerwyn took his hands gently in hers and returned them toward the front of her half-opened blouse. “Let everyone else defer to my rank and title out there.” A shift in her voice told Ominis she’d tossed her head toward the far front door. “Have you ever heard Sebastian talk to me in such a manner in public? Or even in private with friends?”
“Well,” Ominis huffed, still a bit insulted on her behalf. “He’s been known to be a bit crude now and again.”
“But only ever between the three of us,” Caerwyn insisted. Her fingers guided his from one button to the next, and it was much easier to make sense of such tiny, slippery fastenings when her fingers were there to help. “When it’s just us, in intimate moments like this, Sebastian doesn’t have to hold back any part of himself.” Her presence and voice drew closer, and he felt her press her forehead fondly, tenderly, against his own. The tip of her nose brushed his, and he could smell the apple from her cider on her breath. “That’s the beauty of a healthy intimacy, Ominis. We can let go, and we can indulge.”
“So you like your husband speaking disrespectfully to you?” Ominis was not one to let go of something he felt was improper, no matter the situation.
“I like being an object of his desire, however he wishes to express it.” Caer giggled, and the sound of it was so pure, so joyous, that it made Ominis finally question his insistence. “Trust me, Sebastian can wax ridiculously poetic when he has a mind to. But mostly,” her soft northern Welsh accent brushed against his lips, “I like having a space where I am not a lady, where I am not the Hero of Hogwarts, where I am not the daughter of kings and legends. If my husband wishes to talk lewdly about my tits -” Ominis shuddered, and to his fleeting shame, it was not because he was repulsed to hear such a word fall from Caerwyn’s sweet lips, “- then he has my permission to do so. It never leaves these moments, and it doesn’t even define all of these moments between us. Each of us has the freedom to bring who we are - in the moment and always - to each other, Ominis. There are no titles and ranks here.”
Ominis thought this over for a moment, then concluded, “This is all very confusing.”
Caerwyn laughed and surprised him with a sudden kiss on the tip of his nose.
Sebastian snorted and said, “When haven’t the three of us been confusing?”
The question felt rhetorical, so Ominis didn’t answer, but he did chuff softly in bemused agreement.
“Going to touch you now, handsome.”
Ominis’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly, though something warm melted through his chest at the word handsome.
“Just enjoy Caer,” his friend’s voice gentled, no doubt seeing the sudden stiffness of his body, “and let me work my magic.”
Then warm hands swept up his back in oiled smoothness and slid over his shoulders with a pressure that caused Ominis’s head to fall abruptly forward on Caerwyn’s own shoulder. Strong thumbs dug into the base of his neck, and Ominis’s eyes fluttered shut as they rolled to the back of his head. A low groan shuddered against the swell of Caer’s breasts, and it took Ominis several long, pleasure-dulled seconds to realize that he had made that sound.
He had never been touched like this before, and the effect was profound. Earth-shattering. Imploding. Reality rearranging.
He truly had no words.
Just...absolute, unadulterated sensation.
Firm strokes of powerful fingers into his too-tight muscles. The gentle scrape of nails as Caerwyn slowly carded through the back of his hair. Warmth and weight over his knees, against his chest. Muscled thighs bracing his own. Thickening hardness low against his back. Hot, short bursts of breath against the back of his neck. Small, cool hands sliding down his chest. Tightening trousers and coiling need. Open mouth against the top of a now-naked breast.
All the while he drowned in the smell of them - smoke and bergamot, heather and whiskey, parchment and oak. Whatever Sebastian kept warming between his hands and rubbing into his back, his shoulders, his neck, his arms, had Amortentia in it, no doubt about it. Ominis had the fleeting thought that this can’t possibly be legal, but then Caerwyn murmured softly into his hair, arched her back, and moved one of his hands holding tight at her waist to finger something small and tightly pebbled.
A nipple. Her nipple.
At another soft insistence, Ominis opened his mouth and licked it into his mouth. A soft cry fell from Caerwyn’s lips, and her hands tightened around his neck, in his hair, when he carefully closed his lips around her and sucked.
“That’s it, Ominis.” Sebastian’s magical hands paused, and Ominis could feel his words against the curve of his left shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to use a little teeth, either. Caer likes that sort of thing.”
Ominis bit down experimentally, and the reaction was instantaneous - the witch in his lap rocked her hips forward sharply, and her moan sounded high and tilted upward, as if she’d lifted her face toward the rafters. Sebastian’s voice deepened, lowered, as he whispered conspiratorially in Ominis’s ear -
“Get her in the right mood, and Caer can damn near come just from having her breasts played with. Feel free to be as rough with her as you like. Our girl’s not made of glass, and she loves being treated like a whore.”
The moan that fell from Caerwyn’s lips at that word made Ominis wonder if either of his friends were truly sane.
“Sebastian!” he grumbled around the nipple in his mouth, unwilling to let it go even to chastise the wizard kissing along his shoulder. “How has she not hexed you yet?”
“Oh, trust me,” Sebastian’s chest rolled against his back in a laugh, and Ominis’s brain nearly short-circuited when he realized his friend wasn’t wearing a shirt. “When she gets to fuck me, she gives it back good and proper.”
“There’s something I want to see,” Caerwyn moaned, her head still thrown back, by the sound of it. Ominis moved his attention to her other breast and idly played with the one he’d just abandoned, with inquisitive, insistent fingers.
“What’s that?” Sebastian’s voice slithered around his ear, followed by his tongue.
Ominis made another sound he’d never heard from himself - something high and needy, almost choked, like he didn’t quite know how to give it the breath it needed to be full.
“You,” Caerwyn panted. Her hips were writhing now, and Ominis was dully aware of an unexpected wetness seeping into the thigh of one trouser leg. “Bent over while Ominis fucks you -”
His friends were going to give him a heart attack from their language alone. Alas. Caerwyn was not done yet.
“- Maybe while I hold your face down between my legs.”
Now Sebastian groaned against the juncture of Ominis’s neck and shoulders, and the low, deep rumble of it nearly unraveled him. Ominis was fairly certain he was attracted to Caerwyn and Sebastian in equal measure, but he’d known and been around Sebastian the longest—which meant he’d had his fair share of fantasies and curiosities over the years.
Like what Sebastian would sound like coming undone.
Sweet Merlin, the thought made Ominis’s trapped cock throb. If it was anything like the sound he’d just made, Ominis didn’t think the two would ever get him out of their bed.
“Told you she’ll give as good as she gets.” Sebastian swallowed hard, and Ominis felt his prominent Adam’s apple bob against the back of his shoulder. “Woman’ll ride my face ’til I can’t close my fucking jaw if I give her half a chance.”
Caerwyn half-snorted, half-sighed; Ominis’s tongue swirled around the nipple in his mouth, and Sebastian was surely right about her having sensitive breasts if the way she pushed them further into his face was any indication.
He was trying to gather the courage to ask what, exactly, was meant by “ride my face”, when Sebastian’s firm hand slid around his neck and cupped his jaw.
“Let me kiss you, Ominis.”
It wasn’t a request, but Ominis found he didn’t mind. The easy banter between Caerwyn and Sebastian - while confusing and scandalous in equal measure - had an odd way of making the space between them feel safe and warm. The only one who seemed to be judging was him, by the sound and feel of things, and considering his gross inexperience, Ominis found that having Sebastian order him gently about was frankly a relief.
He lifted his face and let that hand at his jaw pull his head back, until the back of his neck rested in the cradle of Sebastian’s broad shoulder. Slick, heavily scented fingers brushed his mouth in something like a warning, before they were replaced by lips as confident as his hands.
“I’m going to kiss down your neck, Ominis,” Caerwyn whispered.
He’d later wonder if this had been a coordinated attack by the married couple. Out of sheer reflex, Ominis opened his mouth to tell her that she could, and was startled by a firm grasp of his chin between forefinger and thumb as a tongue swept over his bottom lip and between his teeth. This was followed by the feel of little nibbles along the length of his neck - the sensation of it like an electrical current through the entire circuit of his body. Ominis felt the hair on his arms stand up, and he began to squirm between the insistent press of Sebastian’s body against his back and Caerwyn’s against his front.
They were granite and cotton, the contrast of their textures as distinct as their scents. They touched him differently, too - Sebastian’s bordered on the authoritative, firm and confident in its knowing. Caer was soft and inquisitive, as her mouth and hands mapped the topography of his neck, and chest, and -
Ominis gasped into Sebastian’s mouth as he felt Caerwyn slide off his lap and settle herself down at his feet, with one hand pressed to the top of his left thigh. Her lips followed his sternum down to his navel, and his breath shivered when she found the light trail of hair that gathered there and pointed the way south. But then Sebastian’s tongue began to thrust in slow, blatant mimicry of another push-and-pull entirely, and Ominis’s attention bounced back to their kiss.
How had he ever been distracted from it in the first place?
It was passionate, but controlled; Sebastian fucking seduced him with each pass of his tongue against his, with each suck and nip at his bottom lip as one kiss transitioned into another, with each filthy, unfiltered groan that echoed through his chest and up Ominis’s spine. Sebastian tasted like malt and hops, a contrast of sweet caramel tones and sharp, piney tang. The man tasted like a contradiction - and that didn’t surprise Ominis at all. If anything, it hooked him, addicted him, made him tilt his head as far back as he could in a desperate yearning.
Then he became aware of hands at the waistband of his trousers, of fingers popping open the buttons that were now strained against his cock. Sebastian threaded his fingers through Ominis’s hair and gently tilted his head to the side so he could suck his earlobe between his teeth in a blatant echo of what he’d done to his bottom lip. Delicate palms pressed against his thighs and coaxed his legs to part. Ominis was leaking and writhing, caught between the desires of his two best friends. It was exquisite torture, and one that he found himself welcoming with an eagerness that would have shocked him if his brain had been functioning in any normal way after Sebastian’s thorough kiss.
“Ominis,” Caer’s voice drifted up from somewhere down around his knees, “do you mind if -”
“Yes,” he croaked, overwhelmed by the situation in the very, very best possible way. His bare chest hiccupped as Sebastian’s still-oil-slicked hands slid beneath his arms and began to wander across his pectorals. “Wh-Whatever y-you t-two w-want...!”
“Careful, Ominis,” Sebastian chuckled against the side of his throat, just beneath his ear - and when had that become such a sensitive part of his body? “You sure you want to be at our every whim?”
“I trust you,” Ominis moaned as a cool hand reached into his open trousers and wrapped around his shaft.
He unconsciously bucked his hips up into that small, yet surprisingly firm grasp, and realized that yes, he trusted Sebastian and Caerwyn implicitly - with his body, with his heart. The last two years had been particularly trying for all of them, but it had all worked out in the end, and he couldn’t fault Sebastian and Caer for marrying each other. A part of him had always known the two would. But now they were welcoming him into that marriage - the particulars of which they could all figure out in the days to come. But in this moment, there was a new and delicate certainty blooming to life in Ominis’s heart that gently assured him that no matter what trials and challenges surely lay ahead, the three of them would face them as a united group.
Matrimony, Caerwyn had insisted gently over the past few days, was a formality forged only for society’s benefit - there were older, ancient rites she knew of that would bind them all far more deeply than any minister’s blessing, should that be desired in times to come. What mattered, in the end, was that they loved each other and treated each other truly as married partners.
What mattered was what the heart told them they were to each other - and in his heart, Ominis knew that no Amortentia perfume, or potion, or oil was needed to tell him that he wanted to die bound to the two who had loved him across oceans, through time and tribulations, in every possible mood and doubt.
Thick arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tight against a bare and hairy chest.
“I’m glad you do, love,” was whispered against his cheek, then followed by a kiss so tender and sweet that Ominis trembled.
Something wet, warm, and supple slid across the weeping slit of his tip, and he abruptly broke the kiss with a startled yelp. He’d grabbed hold of Sebastian’s right thigh at some point, his fingers dug into the unyielding muscle that contrasted so sharply with his own lean sleekness. Ominis now reached between his legs with his other hand on reflex, and his shaking fingers slid through long, soft, unbound hair.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Warm breath brushed over his cock, and Ominis couldn’t suppress the full-body shudder that rocked his body back against the full length of Sebastian’s hardness.
“N-No, that’s f-fine,” Ominis panted. “W-Was that your t-tongue?”
“Yes.” And then her affirmation was followed by another little lick across the curve of his swollen head.
Breath susurrated from between Ominis’s kiss-flushed lips, and his fingers tightened in her hair.
“Do you like it?” another inquisitive, teasing brush of slick tongue and dragging lip.
“Stars above, yes.”
There was the sound of spitting, then a wet palm curled around his long shaft. Her touch was gentler than the one he gave himself, but no less effective. Ominis thrust helplessly into her hand; pre-cum and spit made the glide of her palm steadily smoother, and his balls had begun to tighten and ache.
“Feels so good,” he mumbled and moaned, the words falling out of his open mouth in short, sharp bursts of breath.
“My mouth would feel better,” Caerwyn offered coyly.
“Oh, please.”
“Please what?” Sebastian scraped the stubble of his jaw along the curve of Ominis’s cheek.
Ominis melted into Sebastian, utterly undone. He no longer cared about propriety, or manners, or respectful ways of speaking to one another. Caerwyn’s touch had grown faster, firmer, and Sebastian’s hands were everywhere, freshly oiled and smooth against his skin. He was overcome with sensation, and his self-control could do nothing in the wake of it except unravel.
“Please suck my cock.”
The words stumbled out of his mouth, followed by a blush he felt down into his chest. But Sebastian hummed approvingly against the side of his mouth and rewarded his boldness with sudden, gentle pinches of his nipples.
“Good boy.”
Ominis whined at that, then gasped and twitched in Caerwyn’s hand as Sebastian hooked his hands beneath his thighs and pulled his knees over his own. There was a softly murmured spell, and every piece of clothing beneath his waist disappeared. He whimpered at the knowledge that he was now completely naked, his legs spread indecently wide and hooked over Sebastian’s thighs, and the whole of his body stretched long and lean beneath the gaze of two people who had never seen him this way before.
Granted...he’d never been this way before, so this was a first for all of them, really.
“Damn, Ominis,” Sebastian groaned. “You’re a fine-looking man.”
Ominis’s automatic response was to say thank you, but it died in his throat when a hot, wet mouth sank down over his cock. He bucked his hips with a cry before he could stop himself, and Caer gagged briefly around him as he hit the back of her throat. He would have apologized then, and forced himself to behave, but Caerwyn’s hand at the base of his cock tightened in what felt like approval, and Sebastian confirmed it with a low, pleased hum -
“That’s it. Really wrap your fist in her hair and let go. Caer likes having her face fucked.” Then he paused and added thoughtfully, “You’re longer than I am by quite a bit. But you’re not half as thick, and she manages to get my fat cock down her throat just fine.” A kiss against his jaw and a murmur of encouragement: “So give it to her good. She can take it.”
Ominis could only make an inarticulate, cave-man-type acknowledgement to that. When they’d been engaged, he’d thought often of having Caerwyn’s mouth on him in this way. Hell, he’d thought a lot about being with her sexually in every way possible, and his imaginings had always been tentative, slow, gentle, gentlemanly. But Sebastian seemed determined to show his friend just how wicked he and his wife could be behind closed doors, and Ominis felt his give-a-damn about manners and “how things ought to be” crumbling into dust by the second.
He must have hesitated, though, because a larger, thicker, hotter hand covered his fist in Caerwyn’s hair and pushed firmly down. Ominis’s hips rose sharply, seemingly of their own accord - and that was how he found himself thrusting hard into a mouth he had once kissed so reverently, so respectfully. The hand over his guided him to push harder, faster, while the hand at the base of his cock tightened further and further. Ominis dropped his head back on Sebastian’s shoulder and moaned and panted and writhed, his senses swiftly lost to hot, and wet, and sucking...
And the sounds were incredible. Not proper in the least, and Caerwyn sounded as much like a lady as she at present felt, but the sounds of her choking, and snorting, and coughing, and gasping all around and above him made Ominis’s eyes roll yet again to the back of his head. Spit and pre-cum coated every inch of his shaft and dripped down over his balls, followed by the cup of a large, firm hand and an experienced roll of oil-slick fingers.
A new scent emerged from beneath Sebastian’s whiskey and Caerwyn’s orange - something heavy with sweat and dark with musk. Ominis’s mouth had fallen open, and he imagined he could taste it on his tongue, mixed with the sweetness of heather and the bite of cloves. The hand guiding him finally left him to his own devices, and instead pinched forefinger and thumb over his left nipple. The rhythm of Ominis’s hips faltered, and he became dimly aware of the hard outline of a thick cock now digging into the cleft of his ass every time he rocked back against Sebastian’s core.
Then several things happened at once -
Sebastian pulled his nipple and twisted; the hand cupping his balls squeezed in tandem; Ominis felt his cock finally push past Caerwyn’s resistance. She swallowed around him, and the ripple of her throat muscles milked his shaft. All of existence narrowed exquisitely on that perfect alignment of sensation, and Ominis shouted as his body splintered apart. He poured down Caerwyn’s throat in shuddering, convulsing gasps, each seemingly longer and harder than the last. All thought ceased. All awareness vanished. He had no idea how long the spun-out bliss of his orgasm lasted, but when he finally came to, Caerwyn was gently licking away the last bead of cum at his tip, and Sebastian was smoothing his palms over nipples that were suddenly, achingly sore.
“Fuck,” was all he could think to say once the capacity to form words returned to him.
Decency, dignity, and decorum - all characteristics that wove delicately and deep into the Weasley family name; however with you it seemed, they didn’t exist. Your older brother, Garreth; had two rules in place during your time at Hogwarts which he was rather strict regarding - no snitching, and no boys. Pffft; yeah right, like you’d listen. Well, to the first rule obviously. A Weasley never snitched on a Weasley; even at times when you were caught in the firing line by your aunt Matilda over rather questionable scenarios your brother and self had become caught within the webs of. But boys - there was no way you were listening to Garreth regarding that.
Irrespective towards and of your attitude though - having a brother in the year level above you brought well; problems. Your social lives and friendship circles were rather close-knit meaning that he knew everyone and about everything you were involved in. That Ravenclaw boy in 3rd year who asked you to the Yule Ball? Suspiciously had a drink of something and was just too sick to attend. That Hufflepuff in 5th year who tried to slip an arm around the back of your shoulders and press a kiss to your cheek that you were quite smitten by? He wore a black eye for a week after commenting on how easily he thought he could get you into bed.
You had quickly become off limits, out of bounds; that forbidden fruit that boys wanted to taste but were too timid to lean in and take a bite of. It was frustrating. It was tortuous. It made the salvation that you found in one of your brother's best mates all that more glorious. To the rest of the castle, you were just this sweet little auburn-haired Gryffindor with an overprotective prick of a brother, but to this particular boy you’d become caught up in; you were stubborn, reckless; clever enough to find a loophole for the two of you to become one within.
And one - you were. Shirt untucked, skirt hitched around your waist, panties dropped to catch around your knees - Sebastian Sallow had you right where he wanted you. Firmly up against the back of the door that led into Professor Sharp’s supply closet, knowing all too well your brother would be snooping around for materials and ingredients needed for his next big project. Did Sebastian want the two of you to get caught? No, not particularly; there was a certain danger in the probability of how Garreth would react if he knew one of his best mates was caught up intimately with his little sister, however with the way your cunt clenched around Sebastian’s cock like a vice always able to bring him to edge and ecstasy he’d have fucked you, publicly in the middle of the Great Hall if he knew Garreth wasn’t around to catch him.
Your ragged breath was vociferous as it brewed within the moan Sebastian spilled past your lips with a lazy kiss that had your head spinning. His thumb firm against your clit tracing out the letters of your name over and over had your knees turn in weak - each of his thrusts bringing your back to slide up against the inside of the door as a fever-light sweat splayed across your skin. What should have been a one-time thing - a single rendezvous, a partially drunken idea Sebastian had struck to you in conversation at a party sometime ago had turned into weekly affairs that had been going on for months. It had gotten to the point where he wanted to take things to the next step - hold your hand in public, call you his own, steal kisses when he thought no one else was watching; but you’d made it clear - your intimacy wasn’t to be a death sentence and as such, here you were; hidden within the castles most cramped supply closet with a Slytherin who was oh so delectable you were happy to drown yourself within.
His grip on your hips was brutal; you could almost feel the way his fingertips bruised your skin as Sebastian dropped his head into the crook of your neck, tongue all too eager to flick out over your pulse point; tasting the salt of your skin before nipping tiny marks of ownership down towards your shoulder which you knew all too well would take both the pain of a charm and makeup to conceal and keep hidden. Your back arching; chest flush against his own, you could feel his name creep up your throat and dance across your tongue yet were blocked from releasing it - Sebastian’s hand flying up to cover your mouth as a rather familiar voice on the other side of the door swore at the stupid lock on the supply closet door.
“Mate - kinda busy in here.”
Sebastian’s thrusts didn’t stop though - if anything; the sudden disturbance spurred him on. Dark chocolate eyes melting straight into yours; a transaction of silence pleaded, you teasingly poked your tongue out to swipe along the inside of his palm - forcing him to shut you up by other means. Capturing your swollen lips in a kiss aimed to silence you completely, you felt your body jolt as his hips rolled up and crashed into meeting yours, an unexpected whimper escaping you which flooded the closet which due to Sebastian’s thrusts and pace had supplies falling off shelves all around you.
“I’m just after a fwooper feather…”
“Come back in a couple of minutes yeah? Or better still go find one on your fucking own.”
The closet was getting warmer - hot, like a sauna. You wanted so desperately to strip further out of your uniform than you already had but knew that the time spent doing so would be utterly worthless. Neither of you would last any longer than a few more minutes. Hitching a thigh up around Sebastian’s waist, he clutched at the soft and tender skin; the change in angle deepening the way he was able to piston his cock into you. The move was welcomed as he urgently brought himself closer and closer using your body to his pleasurable release. A hand snaking into the back of his messy hair, you tugged him in closer for another kiss; this one not something constructed by the heat of the moment; more tender, more endearing; one of lust, longing, and love.
“Sallow c’mon yeah - whoever you’re fucking in there can wait a god damn minute for you to find me a feather and shove it under the door.”
“Yeah - no - can - do.”
Walls of your cunt clenching around Sebastian’s length you felt yourself reaching a high you hadn’t yet before experienced and were sure that it was because of how close you were to getting caught in the most compromising fucking position you’d never been in, in your life. His grunting and groaning edged you on even further and before you knew it, his name that had been dancing on the tip of your tongue was screamed through the supply closet as you saw stars - the both of your cursing with a heavy sigh immediately afterward that you hadn’t bothered to cast a silencing charm to save both hassle and embarrassment.
Feeling him spill into you; folds damp and inner of your thighs wet as Sebastian fell heavy, pinning you up against the door, you chuckled into his shirt; a temporary safe haven to the words you both next heard as his sweat mixed in with cologne encapsulated you.
“Is that my fucking sister in there with you?”
You and Sebastian both exchanged mischievous grins in the darkness of the closet before locking your lips together one last time for a searing kiss as thuds sounded against the other side of the door. Did you want to leave? No. Would you have to? Eventually, yes. Did you want to face the wrath you knew your brother was capable of? No. Would having Sebastian by your side help? Maybe. Which is why you were pleasantly surprised at the fact Sebastian replied faster than you could have even thought of words to string together in a sentence.
“Yeah, it is; and you’ll need to come back later for that fucking fwooper feather - I’m not quite finished with her yet as it is.”
unedited - raw - i don't even know what I'm writing anymore but hey - happy early valentine's day to you all xoxo
