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quinnsallow · 18 minutes ago

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Numb Without You

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Female MC)

Rating: Mature 18+ (explicit sex, smut, language, mild violence)

Summary: Sebastian Sallow, who happens to be your boyfriend, becomes irate when you agree to be Leander Prewett's dueling partner in Crossed Wands. He tries his best to punish you, but lust has a way of softening even the sharpest tempers.

Notes: Just a ramble-y little one-shot songfic thing that ended up being a lot longer than I'd planned. Not sure I like this but so it goes. Characters are 18 and in their seventh year. Gets smutty so minors DNI.

This was inspired by the song "Numb Without You" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized and I obviously don't own them. (Is use of lyrics in stories annoying? Do they add anything? Do you skim past them? I'm curious to know your thoughts.)

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow gnawed at the inside of his cheek.

It was his only defense against himself and the overwhelming urge to commit an act so violent, he’d surely be expelled. He chewed at the soft flesh, stewing in his fury until Lucan Brattleby took notice of him.

“Ah, Sebastian!” Lucan said cheerily, clearly naive to Sebastian’s simmering fury. “You made it. We were wondering where you were. Wouldn’t be like you to miss Crossed Wands.”

Sebastian tore his eyes from the source of his anger to briefly gaze down at Lucan. “Got held up in Potions,” he said tersely.

Stupid Potions. Professor Sharp made him remain after class until he could perfect his powdering technique for asphodel root. The process made Sebastian 20 minutes late for Crossed Wands, and though the day’s duels weren’t part of an official tournament, he was eager to get some practice in.

Life had finally returned to some semblance of normalcy for Sebastian. After his tumultuous fifth year, he dedicated his entire sixth year to focusing on his studies and making amends so that he could spend his seventh year preparing for life after Hogwarts.

Anne had left Feldcroft to live with a family friend in Edinburgh. She threatened to turn Sebastian in for their uncle’s murder if he didn’t agree to drop his pursuit for a cure for her curse. Sebastian, no longer driven by the dark magic of the relic, reluctantly agreed. But Anne was at least returning his owls, even if she hadn’t seen him since that fateful day in the Feldcroft catacomb.

Ominis was also hesitant to come around. The decision to protect Sebastian rather than turn him in weighed greatly on him for much of their sixth year, but before the year ended, he found himself returning to the Undercroft to catch up with Sebastian and repair their severed relationship.

Then there was you. You backed Sebastian without a second thought after Solomon’s death. Your loyalty to him developed long before you even realized you loved him.

You aren’t sure where that devotion came from, considering Sebastian had dragged you through Hell and back. He was cruel and stubborn with you at times, put your life in danger on numerous occasions, and then put his future unfairly in your hands with his biggest kept secret.

But as the two of you stood in the Undercroft one day, shouting your frustrations at one another, you accused him of using you the entire time. You told him he’d only befriended you when he realized you had powers and skills that could help Anne. Then you accused him of only pretending to care about you because you knew the truth about Solomon. But when you turned to leave, he begged you to stay.

“I’ve never used you,” he said, his voice dipping to something much lower and softer than you’d heard from him. “I need you.”

So you stayed and you watched Sebastian Sallow shift from a teenage boy misguided by dark magic to a man who hated himself and the choices that changed him.

He opened up to you that day, spilling every anguished thought and insecurity he had – his regrets, his fears, his entire self-worth. And you hugged him and assured him that everything would turn out OK. Then you promised you’d never leave him.

Since that day, he’d more than held you to that promise. He clung to it like it was his lifeline – the final, fragile thread holding him together.

Without Ominis and Anne to lean on, you became Sebastian’s world. It all became clear during the summer before your seventh year, which you spent together in Feldcroft.

The two of you worked to fix up the Sallow family home, which now belonged to Sebastian. You teased him, telling him it was time for him to start a family to fill the cottage. You joked and laughed about the notion that Sebastian could someday be a father. And then he retorted that he’d need a wife first, and the way he gazed at you made it clear he already had a candidate in mind.

And so, your romantic relationship with Sebastian started that day, in the quiet confines of his cottage. Someday, it would also be yours.

You returned to Hogwarts for your seventh year as a couple, to absolutely no one’s surprise. Even Professor Weasley said, “It was about time,” when she discovered the two of you locking lips in a quiet corner beneath a staircase.

So you and Sebastian transformed from best friends to lovers, Hogwarts’ hot new couple. That was three months ago, so by now, everyone knew they’d be better off wandering into a pond of dugbogs than trying to romance you. If you didn’t hex them for crossing boundaries, Sebastian surely would – or worse.

That’s why Sebastian was currently seeing red.

His tardiness to the day’s Crossed Wands session forced you to find a new partner. You didn’t want to duel alongside anyone else. You and Sebastian had cemented yourselves as the king and queen of Crossed Wands, unbeaten since the day you started.

You loved dueling together. Perhaps it was nostalgic in some ways, a reminder of the early stages of your friendship when you were fighting Ranrok’s loyalists, but it was also symbolic of your relationship – the two of you worked so well together, always in sync and never fearful of your opponents.

But Leander Prewett noticed Sebastian’s absence and pounced at the opportunity to call you his partner, even just for an afternoon.

You didn’t read much into it, but when Leander suggested the two of you hang out at the Three Broomsticks later on, you wondered if the Gryffindor was being far too brave for his own good.

Still, you agreed to duel together and the two of you made quick work of your first two pairs of opponents (though Leander was mediocre at best).

You were too preoccupied to notice Sebastian’s arrival midway through your second duel, so you didn’t see the way he stared at you and Leander.

He clenched his jaw so hard it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. And as you shoved your way in front of Leander to protect him with a perfectly timed Protego spell with Sebastian looking on, you and Leander would have been safer in an acromantula’s nest.

The noise inside the clock tower became a background hum as Sebastian dissociated, a surge of panic and rage ballooning inside his chest. He could hear Lucan speaking in his ear but didn’t register the words. Spells clanged off of wood crates and ricocheted off the stone walls but he took no notice.

The only time he tore his eyes from you was to turn to Lucan.

”I get next round,” Sebastian said quietly. It wasn’t a request.

Lucan looked up at him in surprise. “Do you have a partner?”

”I don’t need one.”

Lucan lit up in excitement, clearly oblivious to the repository of rage that had formed in Sebastian’s brain. “Wicked,” he said with a nod.

You always joked that jealousy didn’t look good on Sebastian, but truthfully, it did. His eyes darkened and he became focused. You loved the way he looked when he was brooding. So when Lucan announced the next round and Sebastian emerged from the top step of the clock tower entrance, you inhaled sharply.

That old adage, “If looks could kill” buzzed in your brain. And poor Leander was as good as dead.

“Sebastian!” you said, relieved to see him, yet terrified for what was likely about to happen. “You made it!”

But your expression quickly contorted into concern when you saw his face.

You knew that look. And it terrified you, because you’d only seen it on select occasions. Only when Sebastian was borderline manic.

You’d seen Sebastian’s jealousy manifest plenty of times, the worst being the way he damn near demolished a man for flirting with you during a visit to Irondale. You knew he thought Leander was a prat and that he’d be annoyed you agreed to partner with him, but you had hoped the two of you would be able to laugh about it later.

You should have known better. Sebastian could be playful, but he didn’t play when it came to you.

Let's get this straight. You are a panic in the bloodstream, yet you bring me peace. You are a stutter in the heart that beats inside of me.

As the students who were crowded inside the clock tower realized what was about to happen, the air inside the room became heavy and tense. The crowd collectively stepped back, melting to the stone walls to make room.

“Sebastian, are you all right?” you asked, your eyes begging him to understand it was all in good fun. You’d never actually betray him.

You loved him.

But Sebastian wasn’t looking at you anyway. He was glaring knives into Leander, who didn’t seem to understand he was nearing his own execution.

You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.

”Sebastian, relax,” you said in a reasoning tone, silently praying your soothing voice might relieve his ire. “It’s just a meaningless duel. Let’s have fun with it.”

Sebastian’s gaze finally shifted to you. It softened a bit, but there was still a blackness in his eyes that made you nervous.

You knew he’d never really hurt you. Not again, not after the scriptorium. He’d die before he allowed that. The two of you dueled each other all the time, countless hours in the Undercroft casting Confringo at one another. He’d never pushed too far or risked anything that could genuinely hurt you. You’d be safe because Sebastian loved you far too much to hurt you — and because he knew you’d put up too good of a fight anyway.

But for as much as Sebastian loved and cherished you, his Achilles had become the notion that anyone else could ever be permitted to do the same.

You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

“Of course, love,” he said steadily as he slid his wand from his pocket. And you knew that his quiet, calm demeanor indicated a brutal battle was to come.

As soon as Lucan signaled the start of the duel, Sebastian fired a fury of offensive spells at Leander, one after another in rapid succession. You knew they were coming, but you could only do so much.

“Protego!” you cried as you shielded your partner, your bubble deflecting Sebastian’s onslaught.

That only seemed to irk Sebastian more as he sent a stinging hex your way. You dodged it and Leander chuckled. He still didn’t seem to fully grasp his predicament.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he teased Sebastian.

“Leander,” you hissed in aggravation.

A basic cast whizzed past your ear and you flinched, dropping your shield charm. You straightened and hit Sebastian with Depulso, buying yourself some time.

“Leander,” you said again, your tone much more urgent as you willed your partner to take things seriously. “Focus.”

Leander snorted and used the opportunity to cast Diffindo. You winced as the spell largely missed, but just managed to nick Sebastian’s side. Blood began to seep through his white shirt but you knew better than to stop, especially when you noticed how your boyfriend’s eyes blazed.

“Sebastian, enough,” you tried to say firmly as Leander cast Incendio to put some distance between himself and Sebastian. But the only thing that burned hotter than the ring of fire was Sebastian’s temper.

“Aguamenti,” he mumbled to douse the flames with water. His eyes met yours momentarily and he smirked – that signature smirk that typically rendered you weak in the knees. But this time, you sensed danger.

“Sebastian, it’s just you and me,” you said, praying your words would land with him.

Sebastian nodded as your eyes locked. You begged him with your gaze to understand, and he did.

You and me. Those words had become your mantra over the past three years. You and Sebastian would whisper them to one another before raiding bandit camps, fighting Ashwinders and solving sinister puzzles. But you also spoke them in your intimate moments, when it was just the two of you savoring each other’s company.

Something about that phrase comforted the two of you. You knew it had reassured Sebastian, but you also knew he was far too impish to simply stop the duel.

“Alarte Ascendare!”

Sebastian’s spell sent Leander flying backward again. Leander coughed and sputtered. The way he grimaced confirmed he’d likely cracked a rib or two. It also confirmed that a slew of spells was likely to come, because that was Sebastian’s signature move – blast his enemy backward before unleashing a storm of offensive spells on them.

“Leander, look out!” you managed, but it was too late.

Sebastian levitated Leander and hit him with a Confringo and Bombarda spell combination powerful enough to rattle the entire room. Leander was blasted backward, the force sending him crashing into a pile of crates while Sebastian watched his handiwork with smug satisfaction.

“Sebastian!” you scolded. “You could have seriously hurt him!”

“And?”

You huffed in annoyance as you ran to check on Leander, dropping your wand in the process. That was your final mistake.

As you bent down to see if Leander had any visible injuries, you were suddenly levitated off your feet.

“Sebastian Oliver Sallow, you put me down!” you demanded, your legs kicking wildly in the air.

“Or what?” Sebastian challenged, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Fight’s over, you won!”

Sebastian flicked his wand and you floated toward him swiftly, still flailing in aggravation at his antics. He held steady, hovering you above him, higher and higher until your feet dangled well above his head. He smirked and you could feel him peering up your skirt.

“You fucking troll,” you hissed.

Sebastian laughed.

Meanwhile, the crowd had been tending to Leander, who at least managed to sit upright. A group of students helped him to his feet to support him to the hospital wing, but Sebastian paid no mind.

“All right, that’s enough for today,” you heard Lucan declare. “See you all next week.”

Students began to file out of the clock tower for dinner, but a few of your curious friends held back, lingering to see the outcome of your lovers’ quarrel.

“Sebastian, put her down,” Poppy laughed, though you noticed the edge in her tone. “Duel’s over.”

Natty also sensed there was more to it. “Are you alright?” she asked. You weren’t entirely sure if she was addressing you or Sebastian but you didn’t want her to worry.

“We’re fine,” you sighed, still lingering in the air. You rolled your eyes to emphasize your point, that you and your boyfriend were just having fun. Your friends didn’t need to know that you had likely just saved Leander from devastating injury. They did know that you and Sebastian were prone to silly little spats like this, and though they didn’t quite understand your relationship, they knew you always seemed to handle it well.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word alone with my dearly beloved,” Sebastian said, smirking at you.

“You two are something else,” Natty sighed while Poppy giggled. “See you at dinner.”

You waved goodbye and watched them leave the clock tower, your feet swaying gently as you remained suspended mid-air. Once they were out of earshot, you glowered at Sebastian.

“OK, you proved your point,” you sneered. “Now put me down.”

Sebastian merely chuckled. He twirled his wand for emphasis, causing you to also twirl, which made him laugh more.

He was enjoying this far too much and you were struggling with the fact you had little control over the situation.

“Not until it’s very clear to me that you understand what you’ve done wrong.” He flicked his wand again, sending you darting across the room with a swish. “And that you understand there are consequences to your actions.”

“It was just a harmless duel, Sebastian. You weren’t here and Leander asked to be my partner. You know it didn’t mean anything. And you made your point clear to everyone else.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you,” Sebastian noted. “But I bet Prewett loved it. He’s carried a torch for you since fifth year.”

“So? Even if he has, it’s a moot point.”

“ I know that ,” Sebastian said, waving his wand for emphasis. The movements caused you to dip sharply before you were jerked upward again, dangling about six feet off the ground. “But he needed to know.”

“So then why are you punishing me?”

Sebastian grinned. “Because I can.” You heaved a defeated sigh and Sebastian approached you, his eyes fixated on yours. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I promise.”

“And promise me you won’t partner with anyone else again.”

“I promise.”

Sebastian flicked his wand and you gasped as you were tipped upside down, your hair spilling downward and the hem of your skirt slipping from your knees, past your chest.

“Sebastian!” you squawked as you grabbed for your skirt hem, trying to cover yourself.

“Relax, love,” Sebastian said, his voice silky as he circled beneath you. You felt like bait, dangled inches above a hungry shark. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“I know that,” you huffed. “But anyone else could come walking through.”

He flicked his wand and you levitated lower, still upside-down, until he could reach you, his face inches from yours. He smelled warm and earthy, like sandalwood and spices.

“You’re awfully attractive when you’re vulnerable,” he teased in your ear. He reached upward, his fingers gently touching the top button of your blouse. You held your breath as he popped open the first button, then the second, exposing your chest. The air inside the clock tower felt cool against your skin, but you felt distressingly hot.

Sebastian was quick to notice that you hadn’t bothered to squirm or swat his hands away. He knew you too well. You liked when he was possessive over you.

Let's get this straight. You are a fever in the cold, yet I'm not shivering. You are a shudder in the voice that screams inside of me.

“But you do need to be taught a lesson,” Sebastian continued. He leaned forward to plant a kiss on your upside-down lips before his mouth found your neck.

You inhaled sharply as the blood continued to rush to your head. Sebastian gently nuzzled against your collarbone until you could feel him smirking against your skin.

“You feel hot,” he murmured against you.

“Probably because you damn near set Leander on fire,” you retorted. You could still hear one of the wood crates crackling in the corner.

“He deserved it,” Sebastian mumbled before his lips found yours again. When he pulled away, you could feel his eyes slink upward to your chest. He pressed a trail of kisses from the corner of your lips, up your neck and between your breasts.

Your breath hitched and you wondered if you were going to pass out. Sebastian already knew how to rob you of all sensibilities, but the blood in your brain induced a haze that clouded all of your inhibitions.

You are my last, you are my first. You kill me for the better. You are the rising tide. You're every fucking thing inside me now.

You could feel him smirking against your chest until he pulled away, stepping back to set you upright with a swish of his wand.

“Put me down,” you said firmly, hoping you sounded more authoritative than you felt. In truth, you felt completely submissive.

“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He could be cruel, but he’d never force you to expose yourself to half of Hogwarts. That was all meant for him and only him anyway. That was the entire point of all this.

Sebastian held his wand out, steadily lowering you until you were a foot from the ground. As soon as you assumed you were about to reunite with the stone floor, he caught your gaze and grinned.

Another quick flick of his wand sent you swooshing toward a pile of untouched crates stacked away in the corner. You squealed in surprise until you were gently lowered slowly to a seated position on top of one. Sebastian tread casually toward you, one hand still clutching his wand as the clack of his footsteps echoed throughout the clock tower.

“Bastard,” you sneered as he reached you.

“Now, now, love,” he cooed as he stepped closer, using a knee to nudge his way between your legs. “Don’t be mad. You’re the one who betrayed me, after all.”

“I’d hardly consider that a betrayal,” you chided. “Prewett’s about as useful as a Flobberworm. I would’ve been better off dueling on my own.”

“Glad you learned your lesson,” Sebastian mumbled as his arms snaked their way around your waist. “Now you get to make it up to me.”

“If I make it up to you, will you apologize to Prewett?”

”Absolutely not.”

”Sebastian…”

Sebastian sighed as he drew back to meet your gaze. “Why should I apologize?” he demanded. “He was the one moving in on my girlfriend.”

”Oh, please. Even if he was, it wouldn’t matter and you know that.”

”But it’s the principal,” Sebastian drawled. “He should know better. Everyone knows you’re mine.”

You are the violence in my veins. You are the war inside my brain. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

Perhaps Sebastian was a bit possessive when it came to you. Attention from others made his blood boil and he was always quick to challenge them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you — you’d proven your loyalty to him long ago, but his fear of losing you often made him irrational. He’d already lost so many people close to him, you couldn’t help but give him some grace when he tried to cling too tightly to you.

”So maybe Prewett was just trying to test his luck. Or maybe he’s lost what few brain cells he had,” you said. “The point is, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sitting here with you, not him.”

”Too right you are,” Sebastian smirked. He inched closer and leaned in to kiss you in that slow way that made your stomach somersault. But as he kissed you, you quickly pulled away as you noticed the feeling of something trickling over your hand.

“Sebastian!” you gasped as you realized your hand was covered in blood. “You’re still bleeding.”

Sebastian sighed, clearly annoyed that your concern for his injury was outweighing your desire. “I’m fine,” he huffed.

“You’re hurt,” you said sternly, eyeing his side. Blood had started to seep through his white shirt, which was ripped from Leander’s Diffindo spell.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian repeated. “And I refuse to allow the results of Prewett’s ignorance to distract my girlfriend any longer.”

“At least drink a Wiggenweld,” you ordered.

“Fine,” Sebastian sighed. He turned on his heel and you watched as he crossed the clock tower to the storage chest equipped with various potions and first aid items. You leaned back on your hands, your feet dangling from the edge of the crate as you could hear Sebastian rummaging through the chest. “Ah, one Wiggenweld,” you heard him say before he paused to down the potion. A tiny clink suggested he tossed the vial aside before returning to you.

As he crossed the room again, you swallowed as he unbuttoned his shirt while he walked, slowly peeling it away until it fell to the floor in a heap. He smirked as you shifted atop the crate, the flickering lights dancing over his body to cast shadows on the stone walls.

“Now, where were we?” Sebastian said smoothly. He returned to his standing position between your legs, placing one hand on either side of you as he leaned forward.

Your eyes fell to the slash beneath his ribcage and you frowned. “At least let me do a quick healing spell,” you begged.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian insisted. But as you reached your fingers toward his wound, he inhaled sharply and you shot him a stern look.

“I’m not letting you touch me until it’s healed,” you said.

Sebastian groaned in annoyance. “Fine,” he huffed as he straightened up, turning his body so that the gash faced you. “Have at it, love.”

“Thank you. My wand, please?”

“Oh yes, that,” Sebastian said, offering you a smirk. “Forgot I still had that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Sebastian chuckled at your remark and brandished your wand from his back pocket. “Here you are, princess.”

You glowered at him and pointed your wand at his wound. “Vulnera Sanentur,” you murmured. The gash immediately stopped bleeding and the skin seemed to fuse back together, leaving a red scar that looked tender and raw. “That’s better. Not fully healed, but better.”

“Good,” Sebastian said, plucking your wand from your hand and tossing it to the side. It clattered on the stone and rolled until you could no longer see or hear it. “Now, where were we?”

“Sebastian, we really should be getting to dinner,” you said weakly. Sebastian grinned. He was clearly amused by how pitiful and unconvincing you sounded.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. “At least not for dinner.”

Maybe it was his tousled hair. Maybe it was the signature smirk that never seemed to leave his lips. Maybe it was the way he had fought for you in such an unflinching manner. Or maybe, most certainly, it was the way the low light caught his toned arms and torso, his new scar a symbol of the lengths he was willing to go for you.

Whatever it was, it commanded control over you and you had no desire to fight it. You never did.

I won't leave, no, I won't surrender. I'll wait 'til the end of, the end of time. You are my glitter and my gloom. I am so numb without you.

Instead, you let Sebastian lean down to kiss you, his hands grabbing your face. It wasn’t long before he fully closed the gap between you, standing pressed against your body while his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

Your hands roamed from his sides, over that new scar, up his chest until they snaked around his neck. Your legs mimicked your arms as they wrapped Sebastian’s frame.

“I do have to admit,” Sebastian murmured against your neck. “You do look pretty fucking gorgeous when you’re dueling.”

“You’ve just now figured that out?” you retorted. You could feel Sebastian smile into your skin.

“Of course not. You always look bloody gorgeous. It’s just particularly alluring when you happen to be surrounded by fire.”

“Noted,” you murmured. “Though that doesn’t mean you can cast Confringo every time you’re aroused.”

“You’re no fun.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before Sebastian’s hands found their way beneath the hem of your skirt. You felt the pads of his fingers gently skimming the tops of your thighs until they found your hips.

The longer he kissed you, the more the bulge in his pants prodded your inner thigh in earnest. The feeling of Sebastian’s desire for you fueled your own, igniting the familiar beckoning between your legs that made you shift closer to the edge of the crate.

Sensing your urgency, Sebastian pulled away just enough to smirk at you. “Now now,” he mused. “If I had to endure the absolute torture that was watching you duel with Prewett, you should have to exercise a little patience yourself.”

You should’ve known you weren’t getting off the hook that easily. It was never that easy with Sebastian.

His eyes fell to your chest, where the top two buttons remained open. He reached for the third, then the fourth and downward, his fingers lingering as they took their time with each one.

With your shirt hanging open, Sebastian reached for your hair with one hand, balling it within his fist as he kissed you hard. The other hand snaked its way over your breasts to your left shoulder, tugging your shirt sleeve off. He released your hair to remove your other sleeve, leaving you bare above the waist.

Sebastian took a moment to admire you – he always did. He had a way of ensuring you felt like you were the only other person on Earth, like your physique alone kept his veins open and his heart pumping.

Once his eyes were done drinking in your body, he reached for one of your breasts, his palm cupping you while his fingers gently squeezed. His thumb traced circles over your nipple until his mouth replaced his hand.

You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his tongue flicker across your skin. You wanted his tongue everywhere but if you asked for it, he’d surely continue to tease you with it.

Instead, you felt one of his hands creep back under your skirt, resting atop your thigh again. He gave your leg a gentle squeeze and you shifted, parting your legs to invite him in. His fingers hooked around the waist of your panties, so you lifted your hips to help him remove them.

His fingers traced gentle lines over your entrance and you bucked your hips, your silent way of begging for more. Your body was aching to feel any part of him inside of you, but he merely flashed you a smirk and left his fingers trailing outside of your folds.

A whimper escaped your lips as he kissed you again and you just knew he was thriving off of your impatience. He kissed you in ways that left you at a loss for thought, void of all composure as his fingers drew enticing circles around your cunt.

“Sebastian, please,” you whined, rocking forward in desperation to relieve the scorching tension swelling in your core. He barked a laugh.

“It’s sexy when you beg like that,” he chuckled. He dipped his head to kiss your neck, nipping gently at the skin before his lips pressed a trail of kisses between your breasts and across your stomach. Bent over your body, Sebastian lowered himself to place a kiss atop your knee until he started a new trail beneath your skirt, creeping closer to your core until…

He straightened up again, standing tall as he flashed a sinister grin that nearly made you scream in frustration.

You hated the waiting game. Especially when it was getting dark and dinner would be over soon. Especially as the space between your thighs had become so sensitive, so wet, you nearly moaned at the slightest shift in weight. Especially when you knew how fucking good it would feel when you finally engulfed every inch of Sebastian’s length.

But perhaps there was a way to speed things up. You were a smart girl and Sebastian was merely an 18-year-old man. Surely you could find a quicker way to achieve your goal of convincing the bastard to hurry up and fuck you until you gasped his name and saw constellations undetected by any telescope.

So before Sebastian could tease you with that stupid fucking tongue any further, you reached for his belt, unbuckling it with expert rigor.

“Awfully eager, aren’t we?” he teased. But instead of indulging his cruel banter, you indulged yourself by tugging his trousers down, reaching for the one thing you knew would gain back your control.

Sebastian hissed the moment he felt your fingers wrap around him. And though he loomed over you, gazing down at you with heavy eyes, you had regained control.

You wrapped your lips around him and he groaned, his head tilting backward and his eyes falling shut as he focused on the sensation. This time it was your turn to tease with your tongue and Sebastian silently praised you for it.

You typically took your time when it came to this task. You enjoyed the empowering feeling of reducing Sebastian to whimpers and moans. But the prolonged build-up – the tension from the duel, the jealousy Sebastian couldn't quell, the way he kissed you like he relied on your breath for his own oxygen, had you wound so tight you were certain your insides had contorted into knots.

So you quickened your pace for a bit before allowing your tongue to flicker across Sebastian’s tip as his fist grasped your hair into a tangled mess.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled toward the ceiling.

His tip hit the back of your throat and your head bobbed as you took him in. The way he groaned, the way his nails dug into your scalp, you knew he’d returned to his rightful place – wrapped around your finger, even if you were presently wrapped around him.

You also knew he would never leave you hanging. He wouldn’t finish until you did, which meant you just had to tantalize him a little more, until his patience crumbled. A few more flicks of your tongue should do it…

With a sharp tug of your hair, Sebastian pulled himself from your mouth, his teasing ways now forgotten.

“Come here,” he growled.

You straightened to sit upright and before you could say a word, Sebastian grabbed your legs and yanked you to the edge of the crate. The hem of your skirt was shoved upward and Sebastian was prying your legs apart in haste.

You ran your tongue across your bottom lip as you realized you’d earned what you wanted. Finally .

As Sebastian guided himself into you, you realized you’d been holding your breath. It escaped your lips in the form of a soft moan while Sebastian mumbled a curse at the sensation of your heat enclosing around him.

“You’re so wet,” he growled as you stretched around his length.

“Your fault for punishing me,” you murmured.

“And I’d do it again.”

Your banter subsided as the quiet corner soon echoed with the sounds of heavy breathing and skin whipping against skin. Sebastian’s rhythm was quick, yet steady while you silently thanked the gods, the fates, and every other spiritual being for causing you to cross paths with Sebastian Sallow.

Though you’d had Sebastian dozens of times before, there were no words to describe how fucking blissful it always felt.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage.

Your arms were draped around Sebastian, your fingers pressing sharply into his shoulder blades as he pumped into you with more force. Your nails gripped at his flesh and he clenched his jaw at the sting.

“Harder,” you breathed and Sebastian obliged. His hands gripped your hips harder as he worked. No more punishments. No more games. Now he merely wanted you to come undone for him.

And then you did. Your breath hitched in your throat and you managed to sputter Sebastian’s name just as your orgasm began. It pulsed through you and you cried out as your walls clenched around him, compelling him to fuck you harder, to ensure you were good and finished.

When your high subsided, Sebastian paused to kiss you forcefully, reminding you he was the one responsible for it. Your thighs glistened in the low light and Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the spot where the two of you were connected as he steadied his pace again.

He reached up to tug your hair, your head snapping backward so that you’d look him in the eyes. He pulled just hard enough so that your eyes began to water, and he smiled at you.

”Having fun?” he cooed.

”Yes,” you panted.

“You’re lucky I was in a forgiving mood today.”

So lucky. You’d survived a goblin rebellion, vengeful poachers and bloodthirsty creatures. You’d been born with a rare gift, a powerful magic that most couldn’t even begin to fathom. But your luckiest moment in life was the day it led you to Sebastian Sallow.

Sebastian reached down to press his fingertips against your clit and your gasp echoed throughout the clock tower. Anyone passing by would surely catch on to the debauchery happening inside, but you trusted that Sebastian would hex anyone who threatened to ruin the occasion.

His fingers dragged their way across you, beckoning you to lose yourself for him again. The crate beneath you creaked as you rocked your hips to increase the friction wrapped around Sebastian’s cock, desperate to ride one more wave of ecstasy. As it started, you squeezed yourself around Sebastian, eliciting a sharp grunt from him.

The sound that left your lips was damn near guttural but you were too euphoric to care. Sebastian’s cock pounded that soft spot of flesh that made your thighs shake and your cunt flood around him.

It was too much for Sebastian’s restraint and soon he was also spilling himself, filling more than your body could take. As his own orgasm subsided, the sounds of your panting quickly replaced the sounds of your sins.

Sebastian rested his head on your shoulder as you caught your breaths and the room returned to sharp focus. Though you were hot, your hair plastered to your forehead, you suddenly became very aware that the air inside the clocktower was chilly. You gasped as a sudden shiver coursed through you and Sebastian lifted his head with a frown.

“Let’s get you dressed,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to your temple. He backed away to help you gather your wand and the articles of clothing you’d shed before getting dressed himself.

When you were both decent, he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a quiet kiss.

“All right?” he asked.

“All right,” you answered with a smile. Your body felt tired, yet relaxed, and your head no longer felt full of the day’s stress.

“Learn your lesson?”

“No.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk at your response. “Sure you don’t want to rethink that?”

“If by ‘lesson,’ you mean dueling with anyone but you, yes. But even the brightest witches sometimes forget everything they’ve learned,” you teased.

“Then the brightest witches will continue to be punished in the most cruel and unusual ways,” Sebastian hummed in your ear as he tossed an arm around you to steer you toward the archway.

“We missed dinner,” you whined as you returned to the castle.

Sebastian sighed. “We can sneak down into the kitchens and grab something. I’m sure they’ll have those biscuits you love.”

“I’d kill for a shepherd’s pie right now,” you mumbled longingly.

Sebastian squeezed your shoulder gently. “I’ll treat you to one at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow, I promise,” he said.

You smirked to yourself as you reached the castle doors and pushed your way inside. “You know, Leander offered to take me there tonight, after our duel. Beginning to think I should’ve taken him up on it.”

“He what?”

206 notes · View notes

quinnsallow · 2 days ago

Text

The Pact

Sebastian Sallow x Female reader (MC)

Rating: Explicit 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: friends to lovers, marriage pact, unspoken feelings, fluff, smut Word count: 6,429 Summary: You and your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, made a pact on your 18th birthday: the two of you would get married if you were both single at age 25. Now it's your 25th birthday and neither of you have a spouse.

Notes: Would like to note that under no circumstances do I believe that anyone living in the modern age of 2024 should have a marriage pact at age 25. But times and life expectancies were different back in the good ol' Hogwarts Legacy days, which is why I chose 25 for these two.

Part I is fluffy. Part II gets smutty. Both are on AO3 or below the cut.

Part I: The Pact

Sebastian Sallow glanced at his pocket watch. It was five after 7 p.m., and it wasn’t like you to be late. Most times, you were annoyingly punctual, if not fifteen minutes early.

Sebastian exhaled slowly and audibly, fidgeting in his seat as his eyes scanned the view outside the window for your familiar face. His fingers drummed anxiously atop the white tablecloth.

The bistro was a bit fancier than he preferred, but he wanted to do something nice for you. For all you cared, the two of you would eat cold sandwiches from a picnic basket somewhere quiet and secluded, but you agreed to meet him here for a change of pace. After all, it was a special occasion. It was your 25th birthday.

Your mirror was the reason you were late. You couldn’t tear yourself away from it, your gaze scrutinizing every miniscule detail of your reflection. Was your makeup too much? Was your hairstyle too simple? Did the dress you picked suit you? Were you trying too hard? Would Sebastian even notice?

Realizing you were going to be late, you took a deep breath, willing the air to somehow inflate your nerves and give you the confidence to survive the evening.

When you arrived at the restaurant an uncharacteristic twelve minutes late, you found Sebastian seated by the window, rifling through the day’s Daily Prophet.

“There you are,” you said cheerily, hoping your makeup hadn’t smeared and your hair was still in place after your apparition. It was a common greeting between the two of you, dating back to your Hogwarts days.

“There you are,” Sebastian replied per usual, folding the crinkled newspaper as he met your gaze. You could feel it sweeping over you as he took in your appearance. “You look stunning.”

Suddenly, you felt foolish for wearing blush. Sebastian’s compliments were more than enough to bring a tinge of rosy color to your cheeks.

“You look nice, too,” you answered as you eyed his outfit. Sebastian had become a sharp dresser over the years. Tonight, he wore a sleek pair of trousers that matched his vest, buttoned over a fresh white shirt and tie, though his hair maintained its signature tousled look.

Nice was the understatement of the century. Sebastian looked positively, devilishly handsome. Of course, he could wear a burlap sack and you’d find him attractive. You’d been a sucker for that boy’s freckles and brown eyes since you were fifteen.

But Sebastian’s boyish features faded a few years ago, his once round face morphing into a man’s. It had sharpened, becoming more defined with stubble that surfaced over his jawline if it went too long without a razorblade. He was clean-shaven tonight, though. You could smell his aftershave, an indication he had shaved just for you, or so you wanted to believe.

“Here, sit,” he said, rising to his feet to pull your chair out. He loomed over you now, his frame having reached at least six feet years ago.

You smoothed your dress out as you sat and Sebastian returned to his own chair, brandishing a bouquet of flowers he had brought for you.

“For you,” he said simply.

You smiled at the vibrant bouquet, pausing to smell it before placing it delicately on the table.

“Thank you,” you said, offering him a smile. He gazed at you quietly for a split second and it made you want to squirm in your seat.

Instead, you shot him an inquisitive look, challenging him to speak, and in return, he flashed his signature smirk.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his long legs stretching beneath the table and his eyes still lingering on you. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you said, crossing and uncrossing your legs. You shifted, tucking one leg behind the other as you willed yourself to remain poised.

You wondered if he was going to broach the subject, the topic that loomed over both of your heads. You hadn’t spoken of it in five years, and you weren’t certain Sebastian even remembered.

But you thought of it constantly, its weight omnipresent in your life and your choices, nagging every “What if?” in the back of your mind.

It began when you turned eighteen. You and Sebastian spent your birthday getting piss-drunk at the Three Broomsticks with a few of your friends. Once everyone else had returned to Hogwarts for the night, you and Sebastian remained seated at a tiny table by the pub’s fireplace, your drunken antics leaving you warm and giggly.

“I can’t believe we’re adults now,” you marveled after you lost count of how many shots of firewhiskey you had consumed.

“Eighteen with our futures ahead of us and the world at our hands,” Sebastian declared dramatically, raising his glass to you. Before you could toast, he tipped back the drink and grinned at you.

“The future is so daunting,” you said, your tone turning serious as the liquor started to stir up your insecurities. “What if I can’t find a job, Seb?”

“You’ve had the Ministry eyeing you for its auror academy for months now,” Sebastian said. “You’re a shoo-in to become the best damn auror the wizarding world has ever seen.”

“But what if I’m no good at it?”

“You’re joking, right?” Sebastian snorted. “You literally saved wizardkind from a goblin rebellion. You take down poachers and Ashwinders on a regular basis. Plus you manage to keep Leander Prewett at bay, despite all of his abhorrent advances.”

“What if I don’t find someone who’ll want to marry me?”

“Then I suppose Prewett will have to do.”

“Sebastian!”

“Relax, I was only joking,” Sebastian chuckled. “What makes you think no one will marry you? You have half the boys in our year positively drooling over you and tripping over their own feet for your attention. And besides, you don’t need to get married to have a fulfilling life. You’re incredible on your own.”

“But I want to share my life with someone.”

Sebastian blinked at you. “I didn’t realize you were such a hopeless romantic,” he mused.

You shrugged, your eyes glassy from your drunken haze. “I just think love could be a beautiful thing, you know? And what about a family? I want a family of my own.”

Sebastian hummed in agreement, falling uncommonly quiet. “You’ll find love,” he finally said, his gaze resting beyond you, at something that didn’t exist over your shoulder.

“But what if I don’t?” you whined, the alcohol replacing your usual composed demeanor with something far less sophisticated.

“You will,” Sebastian said confidently, his gaze returning to you with amusement. He studied you, his smirk softening as he recognized the concern in your eyes. “Tell you what,” he continued, leaning forward to emphasize his seriousness. “How about you and I make a pact? If neither of us is married by the time we’re both 25, we’ll get married to each other.”

It was your turn to blink at him as you processed his proposal. It wasn’t quite the marriage proposal you wanted from him, but it was likely the closest you’d get, at least from Sebastian.

“Really?” you asked stupidly.

“Sure,” Sebastian answered assuredly. “Why not? I doubt it’ll come to fruition considering what I said about all the potential suitors you already have, but it’d be good to have a back-up plan just in case. And despite your best dramatics, I know you don’t despise me as much as you pretend. Growing old with me wouldn’t be that bad, would it?”

Of course it wouldn’t. It was all you really wanted. But you didn’t want to be Sebastian’s back-up plan. You wanted to be his first and foremost plan, his top choice, his only consideration for a wife.

But you didn’t dare share that detail with him. He was your best friend, your confidant, your kindred spirit. The two of you had been through so much together; the trauma, the laughs, the adventure – it was too much history to risk with romance.

So instead of making any romantic proclamations, you kept your cool and merely shrugged. “All right,” you agreed. “You and I, married after 25.”

The two of you shook hands and laughed about the frivolity of your new vow. After that night, you only brought it up a few times on rare occasion, like on your birthday or after one of you endured a particularly nasty breakup with a romantic partner.

”Well, I suppose there’s always our pact,” Sebastian once told you after you and Amit Thakkar broke up the summer after you graduated Hogwarts. You sighed that time, saddened by your failed relationship, yet hopeful for the notion that you and Sebastian could still someday end up together.

But that was just a silly, drunken agreement with no real weight to it, right?

The last time the pact had been mentioned was your 20th birthday, which was dampened by another breakup, this time with a man named Maximilian Flint. He was a professional quidditch player on the Appleby Arrows’ reserve team roster.

The two of you met at a Christmas party and hit it off, but distance quickly made it clear that you weren’t meant to last. You were living in London, traveling on occasion for work. Maximilian, Max as you called him, was always traveling with the team. So your relationship was short-lived, leaving Sebastian to remind you of your agreement again. But that was the final time he brought it up.

Meanwhile, Sebastian seemed unbothered by expectations of marriage. You watched as he kept his connections much more casual, dating different women with no real romantic intent. You couldn’t help but wonder if Sebastian simply had no desire to ever get married, making your pact void of any real potential.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t had any more suitors since then. Adulthood had served you well, your body filling out nicely in your early twenties. You certainly weren’t starved for attention from men and had your fair share of dates, but even the most charming bachelors fell short.

It wasn’t them, it was you. Or maybe it was Sebastian.

Every time you found yourself in the arms of a new man, a potential husband who would be willing to love and care for you, your mind wandered to that stupid pact. You couldn’t help but romanticize it as if it were reality — you and Sebastian, happily ever after. Your daydreams drew you downward to dangerous depths where you envisioned a cozy home the two of you shared. He’d help you cook dinner before you both tucked your children in bed so that you could enjoy each other’s company privately.

It was a maddening fantasy that had managed to sabotage all of your romantic prospects, but you couldn’t help it. No man compared to Sebastian, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself otherwise, and no matter how often you reminded yourself that the two of you were merely meant to be best friends.

Now, the two of you were seated at that bistro table five years later, still without spouses.

”You didn’t have to take me to such a nice place,” you said as a waiter served you champagne.

Sebastian flashed a grin and raised his glass to you, igniting a sense of deja vu that pulled you back to that night at the Three Broomsticks seven years ago.

“It’s not everyday my favorite person turns 25,” he noted. You clinked your glass against his and drank, savoring the champagne’s sweetness. You wondered how much of it you could have before you were drunk enough to forget about the stupid pact. The answer, sadly, was unsurmountable.

Instead, you did your best to enjoy your meal and Sebastian’s company. You swapped work stories, Sebastian telling you of his latest curse breaking endeavors while you recounted a recent arrest during your work as an auror.

When you thought your dinner was complete, Sebastian sat back and smirked over your shoulder. You frowned, turning to see what had stolen his attention when you spotted your waiter approaching with a small birthday cake.

”Sebastian,” you hissed as the cake was placed in front of you, its frosted letters spelling out Happy Birthday in purple cursive. “You didn’t need to do that.”

”Don’t be ridiculous,” Sebastian said, leaning over the table with his fork to steal a bite of cake. “You deserve a nice birthday.”

You smiled at him before taking a bite, enjoying the cake's sweetness until you noticed Sebastian watching you.

”You have icing on your lip,” he noted with a smirk.

Before you could reach for the napkin in your lap, Sebastian was reaching across the table again. He swiped at the rogue icing with his thumb before he relaxed back into his seat, licking his thumb clean.

You had to sit on your hands to keep from fidgeting too much.

Once Sebastian paid the bill, he became quiet, his eyes drifting toward the window as the two of you watched the passerby in comfortable silence. A young couple passed, holding hands and laughing, a sight that made you long for your own companionship.

It was sitting three feet away from you, but you didn’t realize how it was sneaking glances at you.

”So,” Sebastian finally said as he tossed his napkin on the table. “Ready for our next stop?”

”Next stop?” you repeated blankly.

Sebastian rose to his feet, his tall frame drawing the attention of other women in the room. You wanted to throw the remnants of your water goblet on them, but Sebastian extended a hand to you.

”Yes, doll, our next stop,” he said as you stood. His eyes gleamed and you prayed you wouldn’t lose your composure — not now, not when you’d nearly made it through the night. Or so you thought.

”Seb, you don’t have to-”

”Nothing but best for my lady.”

You were certain you were going to pass out right there in the middle of that quaint bistro. Instead, Sebastian led you outside into the cool night air.

”And just where are you taking me?” you demanded. “If we’re heading to your flat, I hope you took care of that niffler in the closet-”

”Eager to head back to my place already?” Sebastian teased.

You tripped over your own feet. Luckily, Sebastian still had a hold on you. He failed to conceal a laugh as he steadied you, clearly enjoying your frazzled state.

”If you must know,” Sebastian continued as he steered you toward a vacant ally, “We’re off to the Three Broomsticks.”

”The Three Broomsticks?” you laughed. “Why? We haven’t been there in years. We aren’t students anymore.”

Sebastian took hold of your arm and offered a grin. “Just thought we’d head there for old time’s sake. I’m feeling rather nostalgic tonight, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t decide if the lurch in your stomach was from your nerves or from Sebastian’s apparition.

When you landed, the familiar smell of aged wood and butterbeer greeted you.

“Come, sit,” Sebastian said with a gentle tug on your arm. You swallowed as you realized he was leading you to that same tiny table in the corner, near the fireplace. You took the same seat you’d held before, seven years ago, as Sebastian retreated to the bar to fetch your drinks. When he returned, he set a small glass down and grinned at you.

Firewhiskey.

”Sebastian,” you started as you eyed the liquid warily. “This is a bad idea.”

”Exactly.” You couldn’t help but snort as Sebastian lifted his own glass. “Cheers,” he continued as you clinked your glasses for the second time that night. “To old times and to our future.”

You nearly choked at his words. Our future? Was he referring to your pact?

You downed your drink swiftly and made a face, evoking another laugh from Sebastian. He took the stool across from you and grinned.

”Are you trying to get me drunk again?” you accused.

”Of course not,” Sebastian answered. “I’m merely recreating old memories. Though you were certainly capable of drinking more back when you turned 18.”

“I had far fewer responsibilities when I was 18,” you pointed out. Sebastian hummed in response before another silence settled between you.

You wanted to bring it up. You wanted to mention it, even if it was just in jest. ‘Hey, remember that ridiculous pact we made?’ you could laugh. But instead, you remained quiet, the low hum of the conversations of other patrons inside the pub filling the space between you and Sebastian.

”So, how’s it feel being 25?” Sebastian finally asked. There was something about his gaze that unsettled you. He wasn’t looking at you with his trademark smirk or the glint of mischief that typically hid in his eyes, only detectable by those who really knew him.

“It feels… exactly the same as 24,” you laughed.

Sebastian nodded in understanding. “It’s rather anticlimactic, isn’t it?” he mused.

”That, it is.”

Sebastian smiled but you couldn't help but narrow your eyes at him. “If 25 feels the same as any other year, why have you gone out of your way to make tonight special for me?” you asked.

Sebastian shrugged, the gleam of the nearby fireplace flickering over his features. “Because your 25 is special,” he answered. “Now we’re both 25.”

You couldn’t form words. Your usual sharp wit and clever quips had abandoned you. Sebastian eyed you patiently, as if you contained some kind of answer to a riddle.

”Do you remember?” Sebastian continued. “The pact we made when we were 18?”

You were certain he could hear the way your heart seemed to be pounding in your skull, rattling your brain and leaving you void of any coherence.

”I do,” you managed.

”Well, we’re both 25 now.”

”We are.”

Sebastian was still studying you with patience, a jarring contrast from his usual unrest.

”Well, do you think you want to go through with it — the pact?”

”Huh?” You had never sounded so stupid in your life and it was starting to scare you. Sebastian also seemed slightly alarmed by your sudden stupor, because he leaned in closer.

”Look,” he said, his eyes searching you with a quiet desperation to be taken seriously. “I know it was just a stupid thing we said when we were young and drunk. But that doesn’t mean that it was irrelevant, at least not to me. I actually meant it. The offer still stands.” He paused to study your expression, as if to ensure you weren’t laughing at him or appalled by the topic. “But I also understand if you weren’t serious about it. It’s not like you don’t have a line of dates waiting to take you out, if you even want to be married, that is.”

”And what about you?” you managed, your voice much pitchier than usual. “You bring a different girl home every week.”

Sebastian appeared taken aback by such a harsh accusation. “Every week is quite an exaggeration,” he mumbled, his gaze falling to the tabletop as if he were ashamed. It made you feel horrible for passing judgment on your best friend. “But you’re right, I haven’t had many serious relationships. I guess I haven’t wanted any.”

”But you want to get married?” you asked incredulously.

”You didn’t let me finish,” Sebastian replied gently. His eyes drifted upward again to meet yours, softening your own gaze. “I haven’t wanted any serious relationships beyond the one I have with you.”

”But we’re-”

”Friends, I know,” Sebastian finished. “But I don’t want that to be the case. I want more.”

His words seemed to linger in the air above you, their weight threatening to crush you with a pastiche of emotions. They hovered, waiting for your response while Sebastian held his breath.

“How long have you wanted to be more than friends?” you finally asked. You silently scolded yourself for asking such a mundane question when you should be yanking Sebastian by the tie into the best kiss of his life.

“Since the day we became friends,” he answered.

The impact of his honesty made you inhale sharply, but the air didn’t seem to reach your lungs.

”All this time?”

”Of course.”

Your head spun with a thousand more questions, each one overtaking the next as you tried to make sense of Sebastian’s confession. You couldn’t decide which emotion was the most prominent — the surprise, the elation, or the anger that the two of you had withheld yourselves from each other all along.

”Why did you make that pact then?” you finally asked. “Why didn’t you just tell me, then and there, that night seven years ago?”

”Because your future was just beginning,” Sebastian answered. “You had so much life to explore and I was just the moron who made a mess of what little family he had left. I was still figuring things out, and even though I knew I loved you, I didn’t think it was fair to hold you back from the life you deserved.”

“I deserved the truth, Sebastian,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a juxtaposition of hurt and happy. “I deserved to spend the past seven years with someone who made me happy.”

The revelation settled over Sebastian, who became still. He looked dumbfounded, and if you weren’t about to spill your best-kept secret, you probably would have teased him.

“You mean you actually wanted to be with me?”

”Don’t be so dense,” you breathed with a soft laugh. “Of course I did. Sebastian, you’ve met some of the men I’ve dated. None of them are like you.”

”I thought that was by design.”

”As utterly exhausting as you are, you’re the only person I’ve ever deemed worth my time and energy,” you said. “I wouldn’t have agreed to that stupid pact if I’d known it wasn’t the only chance I’d have at being with you.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to sort through his racing thoughts, but you were growing impatient. You didn’t even realize you were standing now, anxious to find out where the rest of your life was now headed, now that you and the only man you’d ever loved had just admitted you wasted the past ten years pining after one another.

”So all this time, we could have… just been together?” Sebastian said.

”Apparently.”

”Are we stupid?”

”Apparently. Did you plan this evening with hopes I’d agree to carry out the pact?” you asked.

”I mean, I thought there might be a chance,” Sebastian admitted. “I was fully prepared to make a case for myself.”

It was the tipping point. The strange scene, nostalgic yet new, would become the pivotal moment in your timeline when Sebastian Sallow would no longer be your best friend. It was exhilarating and terrifying, comforting and confusing, a perfect reflection of who you and Sebastian were as humans and as a pair.

Sebastian was still looking stunned as you finally came to your senses.

“So can we continue to our next stop?” you asked.

Sebastian was confused, but rose to his feet when he realized you were preparing to leave the pub. “Next stop? Where’s that?”

”Depends,” you answered. “Did you get that niffler out of your flat?”

Part II: The Vow

The floating candles were fading, the last remaining drips of wax fighting to keep their flames alive. The music dipped to a low hum as the live band prepared to end its performance for the night.

The remaining guests bid their farewells with cheerful laughter and hugs, offering well wishes to you and your groom while you watched them leave with sadness.

You didn’t want the night to end — or so you thought.

But your sad goodbyes were quickly replaced with anticipation as you could feel your husband snaking his arms around your waist.

Your husband. The very word made you swell with pride. You waited over ten years for this moment and couldn’t believe it was a reality. Ten years of patiently waiting for that freckled brown-eyed boy to realize how much you loved him. Ten years of putting up with his chaos, of keeping his darkest secrets, all because you saw beyond his mistakes. Ten years of hoping and praying that boy would turn into a man who would return the unconditional love you carried for him since the day you dueled in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Ten years of waiting on Sebastian Sallow to kindly remove his head from the sand and make you his wife.

Mission accomplished.

”That’s everyone,” Sebastian murmured in your ear. “The last of the guests. Just you and me now.”

”Thank heavens,” you hissed, wincing as you shifted your weight. “These shoes are killing me.”

”Let’s get you home so you can take them off,” Sebastian mumbled against the back of your neck, his lips pressing a series of kisses there. “That dress needs to come off, too.”

The wedding had been perfect. It was a beautiful garden display with your closest friends and family, all who sighed in relief that the the two people involved had finally squashed their stubborn resistance and ended up together.

”I was really starting to get worried you were going to end up with that bloke from the Ministry,” Ominis Gaunt told you. “The one with the hideous outfits.”

”And I was worried Sebastian was going to be a bachelor forever,” Anne Sallow added. “If I can’t have kids of my own, I’d at least like to be an aunt.”

Ten months ago, you and Sebastian finally figured it out. The two of you had spent the ten years you’d known each other waiting on the other person to say something, anything, to ensure that the feelings weren’t one-sided.

That stupid marriage-after-25 pact you made was upheld though, even if it had become less of a pact and more of an absolution as a result of a decade of unspoken words and mutual pining.

”Finally,” Sebastian declared once he’d apparated the two of you home to your shared townhouse in London.

Though you had wasted ten years waiting on another to begin your relationship, you and Sebastian wasted no time in consummating your marriage.

Actually, you’d spent the past ten months making up for lost time and, “It’s a wonder you haven’t gotten pregnant yet,” as Anne so bluntly stated.

This night was no different.

Sebastian hooked an arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss, his hands roaming from your sides to reach for the back of your dress.

”You looked beautiful tonight,” he told you for the hundredth time. You knew his words were sincere though, given the way Sebastian’s eyes had devoured you the entire evening, waiting impatiently to see beneath the dress you had only picked knowing damn well he’d be dying to remove it.

A sharp tug at the ribbons of the corset that laced up the back of your dress loosened the bodice, causing you to spill from it, exposing your bare chest.

Sebastian flashed his canines.

He kissed you hard, his hands tugging the dress downward in frenzied motions until you could step out of it, leaving the beautiful garment in a heap. Those frantic hands found their way back to your waist, tracing the curves that led upward to your breasts.

Your breath caught as Sebastian kissed your neck, his own breath hot against your skin, trailing along your collarbone in a desperate attempt to put his mouth on every inch of you that he could manage.

Sebastian was far too overdressed for your liking, so you tugged at his tie, pulling him in to meet your lips before you helped him loosen the fabric. By the time the silky accessory slipped to the floor, you were working on the buttons at the front of Sebastian’s shirt, thoroughly annoyed that there seemed to be so damn many of them.

Three buttons in, you huffed your aggravation and Sebastian barked a laugh. “Go on, love,” he said. “It’s just a shirt.”

You weren’t seeking his permission, but his blessing was all the encouragement you needed to tear the shirt open. Its buttons popped and sailed across the room, scattering over the floor to be fetched another day.

Sebastian’s shirt sank to the floor and you practically dove for his belt buckle while he gazed downward in pure elation stoked by your eager actions. You didn’t care. Now was not the time for poise and composure. You’d spent the entire day indulging propriety, performing your part as the perfect blushing bride.

Now, you were ready for your role as Sebastian’s real wife.

You removed his belt swiftly, his suit trousers soon joining the rest of his clothes on the floor until your own panties were the only article of clothing between you.

Sebastian took it upon himself to remove them, hooking his thumbs into the sides to tug you closer for another kiss. His tongue hinted at the things he wanted to do to you as it pushed past the threshold of your lips, his thumbs working your panties downward until they fluttered to the floor.

“You’re a fucking vision,” Sebastian breathed, his fingers reaching between your thighs to drag over your folds.

You sighed as his fingers worked at the tension that had mounted in your core, and ground your hips impatiently against Sebastian’s palm, which was pressed against your clit.

“So tense, you are,” Sebastian mewed, removing his hand from your body to gently suck on his fingers.

Before you could form a response, he scooped you up to carry you to the bedroom. You squealed as one arm supported your back, the other supporting your weight beneath your thighs. He smirked at you as he felt the slickness that had settled between them.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Sebastian groaned as he entered your bedroom. He tossed you on the bed and loomed over you as he decided which sinful act he wanted to perform first.

He licked his lips and reached for your ankles, tugging you toward the edge of the bed.

“Can’t wait to see if you taste even better as my bride,” he said as he settled between your knees. He planted a trail of kisses up your thighs, over your hip bones to your bellybutton, invoking a pitiful whimper from you.

You could feel him smirk against your skin, undoubtedly planning how he could use his tongue to orchestrate your demise. Sebastian hooked his arms around your legs, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he prepared himself to feast on you.

A sharp inhale passed through your lips the moment his mouth made contact with you, his tongue gliding over your folds.

”Shit,” you heard him hiss. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

His tongue darted patterns across you, dragging deep sensations below your skin. Your fingers tangled tighter in his hair as you willed your body to produce the response you were both working for.

Sebastian grunted, a telltale sign that his own needs were making him impatient. His cock stirred and he couldn’t help but grip himself as he continued to taste you.

”Oh god,” you groaned as you could feel the familiar sensation of a climax surfacing. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Sebastian would have to be hit with an Unforgivable Curse before he dared to stop. Instead, his fingertips pressed into your thighs as his tongue applied more pressure, maintaining the pace he knew you liked.

The reward of his sinful act surged forth, your body rippling with pleasure as you moaned, your fingernails digging into Sebastian’s skull at the peak of your orgasm. When it subsided, Sebastian left you panting as he straightened up, one hand still supporting his shaft.

He smirked downward at you as he admired the aftermath of his work. He always did this after such an act, his gaze gleaming with pride, lips wet, his tousled hair making him the epitome of sin incarnate.

Most times after Sebastian’s tongue had worked you into a breathless, fucked out frenzy, he was ready to seal the deal and take you until he was finished himself. Other times, you were eager to return the favor and he’d allow it if he felt he had the willpower.

So as he stood over you, his eyes drinking in the erotic vision that was his wife in a post-orgasm haze, you rolled yourself over to lie on your stomach, facing him so that he could bring himself to your waiting mouth.

You reached for him and he hissed as your fingers enclosed around him, a thumb tracing gentle circles around his tip. He twitched slightly, the sensation forcing a grunt from him.

You smirked, your eyes raised upward as they met his while you took him in your mouth, the velvet of his skin gliding against your lips.

”Fuck, I love you,” Sebastian breathed. You hummed in response, the vibration from your lips drawing a groan from Sebastian. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said as your head bobbed, your cheeks sucked inward tightly around his shaft.

His eyes roamed your form, presented in such a pretty way for him, laid out so that he could see your backside. He reached for you, gently squeezing as you focused on using your mouth.

Sebastian’s tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned at the sensation of the soft flesh. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he silently thanked every higher power for forgiving his past sins enough to present him with you.

”Come here,” he suddenly growled, pulling his cock from your mouth. You whined in protest but knew you were in for the ultimate honor.

Sebastian had you by the legs and rolled you to your back again, pulling you toward the edge of the bed once more. This time, he stood between your thighs, his bedroom eyes dark with desire as he held his cock in one hand, ready to take you.

When he guided himself inside you, you moaned until he was fully engulfed. Sebastian clenched his jaw at the sensation, unsure how long he would last thanks to the wetness that was already pooling around him. But he had told himself that morning, before he got to watch you saunter down the aisle to him, that he was going to do everything in his power to make you happy. And that included satiating your every need in the bedroom, until your legs shook and your voice became hoarse.

Sebastian made a silent vow to get at least two more good orgasms out of you tonight. You deserved it. You were his wife.

The room filled with the sounds of Sebastian’s body slapping against yours, a rhythmic beat punctuated with your occasional moans. Sebastian leaned forward to leave kisses on your neck, one hand cupping your breast as the other supported his weight.

”Going to come for me?” he panted.

”Yes,” you breathed. You used your own legs to lift your hips, meeting Sebastian’s in a desperate act to ensure another orgasm.

It didn’t take long to achieve your goal. Sebastian had been here before. He was familiar with your wants and needs, the rhythms you liked and the way you secretly were turned on when he whispered absolute filth in your ear.

He fucked you harder, so hard that your cunt started to spasm before your lips could form his name. You cried out so loud you were certain the neighbors would come knocking, but Sebastian would hex them if they dared to interrupt.

The bedsheets became soaked beneath you, your gasps replacing the fervid sounds of sex as you caught your breath. Sebastian, still inside you, nuzzled your neck as he allowed you to recollect yourself.

Now, it was his turn. You knew that and you wanted it. So you sat up, indicating it was time to switch places. Sebastian obliged without a word, settling onto his back as you straddled him.

Though he’d seen you in this position countless times, Sebastian never failed to admire the sight. This time, he took extra care to savor the moment that was his absolute goddess of a wife mounted on top of him.

You held your breath as you slowly lowered your hips, impaling yourself on Sebastian.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he said through gritted teeth as your cunt swallowed his shaft until your full weight had him completely inside you.

You rocked slightly, seeking the familiar friction and angle you knew would privilege you with a third orgasm if Sebastian could hold out that long. Lifting your hips and slamming back downward, you quickly found the spot, moaning Sebastian’s name to express your gratitude for his cock that seemed to be made with you in mind.

”You take me so fucking well,” Sebastian said as he watched you ride him, your hips lifting and bucking. His gaze flickered from your breasts to the spot where the two of you were connected, and he reached to press his thumb against your clit.

”Sebastian!” you wheezed as the sensation caught you off guard. You were met with a smirk, which you didn’t see because your eyes squeezed shut to focus on the absolute ecstasy forming within your core.

”You’re soaked,” you heard Sebastian say, but you chose to ignore him as you rocked backward, the tip of his cock pressing against the most sensitive part of you.

Heaven couldn’t help you in that moment, and Hell wouldn’t know what to do with you. You choked out a moan as your cunt contracted, desperate to milk out another orgasm. You could feel the tension teetering you right to the edge as your core tingled with warning.

”Fuck, Sebastian!” you gasped as you earned your final orgasm, your walls fluttering around your husband’s cock. A guttural moan escaped your lips as you rode it out, the contractions setting Sebastian’s own climax in motion.

”Fuck!” he grunted as he spilled himself inside you in quick bursts. His hands gripped your hips and his eyes were clamped shut as his body responded to the intensity. ”My god,” he managed when the feeling finally subsided, leaving you both panting.

Once you finally managed the energy to roll yourself off of him, you cuddled up to Sebastian, resting your head on his chest. Your exhaustion left you euphoric as the reality of your evening settled in. You were a wife now, and your husband was the one and only man you had ever wanted to spend these kinds of moments with.

Ten years had finally led you and Sebastian to this point, and you were so glad that stupid pact had been replaced by your vows.

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