#Sebastian Sallow x you

[ameliaphoenix]

MY HEART

Hi, love you’re writing! I was wondering if you were open to a Sebastian request… there’s a HC that the reason his hair is always so chaotic is due to Solomon taking sheep shears to his head, and I was wondering if you could use that to do a small fluff, possibly revealing a crush, between Sebastian and MC, in which he’s received another Solomon haircut and is feeling really self conscious about it, so MC assures him it’s not so bad/he’s still handsome

I'm not even kidding, I saw this request and immediately had to do it because I love it so much - I recently went to Universal (Islands of Adventure) and saw the Hogwarts castle and Hogsmeade... I may have cried a little. Summary: The request Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x MC (No pronouns used) Warnings: Uncle Solomon (there, I said it), angst, fluff, food mentioned, use of 'MC', honestly just real fluffy fluff which I feel like we don't have a lot of. Wrote this in one sitting so most definitely typos. If you're on a computer, the pictures might be formatted weirdly. Contains (Or Lacks): No specific house mentioned. The main plot of the game still happened, but Sebastian's side quest did not. Which means Solomon's alive, but Anne is not cured. Set in summer.

(Pictures Found on Pinterest)

The summer sun was always a lovely feeling after the long and cold winters that occurred in the Scottish Highlands. You could admit the snow was pretty, but the way the warmth engulfed you as your journey took you through fields of flowers, across crystal clear water streams, all whist surrounds by tall mountains that were accented with green. Green was everywhere - green grass, green trees, green bushes, and everything so forth. Each breath you took filled you with peace.

Then there you were.

Feldcroft.

It was only a month and a half ago since you last saw your best friend, Sebastian. The end of your 6th year left you torn. Why? Because ever since you and him met in 5th year, you couldn't deny the spark that ignited when your eyes first met his. It was almost as if Merlin himself wrote in the stars that the two of you would find each other one day. And thank Merlin you did. He was there for you during your fight in the Goblin War, he was there for you in the search to find all the answers that led to more questions, and he was there for you when you lost Professor Fig. But, there were lows that came with it.

You couldn't help him. Over the last two school years, you've tried and failed to have found a cure for his twin sister Anne. You both now knew Rookwood was behind the cruelty and not a goblin, but what good did it do when you were too blinded by the fight to have forgotten to force the answers Sebastian so desperately needed out of him? At least, that's what you tell yourself. Sebastian had to have told you a million times not to blame yourself, but you couldn't follow through. The only way to fix things was to find a cure for Anne.

You clutched the handle of your trunk as your eyes caught the all too familiar well of Feldcroft.

"Off on another adventure?"

You turned your head with a raised eyebrow toward Ignatia Wildsmith. With a chuckle, you continued forward.

"Ah! MC, good to see you again!" Bernard Ndiaye, the Feldcroft shopkeeper, called out.

You smiled and walked up to him. "Hello, Bernard. Doing well?"

"As good as one can be," he answered. "What brings you to town?"

"Oh, I'm just visiting a friend," you replied, vaguely. "Sebastian," you added.

"Ah... young Sallow. I've seen quite a bit of him recently."

"Hm?" You gave him a questionable look.

"He's been helping the folks around here with some labor. He's been a great help to me, keeping my shop tidy and stocked!"

"Sounds like Sebastian," you laugh.

He echoed your laughter. "I shouldn't have been surprised of your arrival, he's been talking about you."

"Has he?" You perked.

"Oh yes... all good things, of course." He grinned, smugly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him in suspicion. "I'll take your work for it..." you dragged in amusement. "Well, I should probably be going, they are expecting me."

"Yes! Yes! Don't let me keep them waiting." He waved you off as he takes a sip of his tea.

You smiled and waved goodbye. You walked away toward the Sallows' house which you deemed as the most whimsical looking one out of Feldcroft, but maybe you were biased. You sighed as you took in the house. It was small, but beautiful. You took note of the new elements that have appeared since the last time you were here. A few new plants, a few new fruits and vegetables in their garden, even a new painted wood sign that claimed their residency. Everything looked perfectly tended to.

You raise your fist to knock, but before your knuckles could touch the door you heard what sounded like a grunt coming from behind the house. You froze in attempt to make it easier to hear. Your eyebrows furrowed when you heard yet another one. You took a step back from the door and set down your luggage. Your curiosity led your feet around the house, eyes bouncing around to spot the source of the sound.

You stopped over by the training dummies when you heard another sound, louder than had been before. You turned your head rather abruptly knowing you had finally found your conclusion but that backfired when you felt your knees nearly give out on you.

Oh.

Your face flushed when your attention was suddenly drawn to none other than your best friend. Your best friend that you fancied like mad, right here in front of you, skin glistening from sweat, breathing heavily with the occasional grunt as he moved large trunks of wood. Your eyes widened the more you continued to gawk at him, you didn't even notice that your jaw had dropped a little at the sight of him.

He stood up straight and lifted his hat a little to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He let out a long sigh of exhaustion and let his head hang low for a moment before shaking it off and turning his body to where you stood. You swore you saw his soul leave his body when he was smacked in the face by your presence.

He jumped and grasped his chest with a gasp. "Merlin MC, don't do that to me! How long were you standing there?" he scolded.

Your brain didn't process his scolding. You smiled and walked with vigor up to him. Without a word you threw your arms around your neck and pulled him into an embrace. He stiffened for a second before hugging you back

"I missed you," you said.

He wouldn't have admit it in that moment, but hearing your voice after haven't heard it in a while made his stomach flutter. A smile made its way onto his face. "I missed you too."

You pulled away, but not too far as you scanned his face for any changes. He did the same.

"You've grown," you pointed out.

"Have I?" He smirked.

"At least an inch." You narrowed her eyes. "And you got a new freckle... right... there." You poked his cheek.

He jokingly slapped your hand away. "I see you haven't change one bit," he teased.

You rolled your eyes. You raised a hand to block your eyes from the sun. "Merlin Sebastian, how are you wearing a hat right now in this weather?"

You didn't mention it, but you saw the way his cheeks turned a light shade of red.

"Where's your luggage?" he asked.

"At the front." You jutted your head in the direction.

"C'mon, let's get you settled then." He placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you to the front of the house. He grabbed your luggage and brought it inside, holding the door open for you.

The first thing you saw was Anne. She was standing there with a weak smile on her face. She had gotten a lot thinner since last summer when you saw her, and the dark circles under her eyes were more noticeable. It was a jab to your heart seeing her this way, knowing you couldn't control it.

"MC!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Anne!" You opened your arms and hugged the girl.

"How've you been?" she asked, moving so she could look at you as she spoke.

"I've been good - busy - but good." You hesitated at first, but asked, "And you? How have you been feeling?"

"Some days are worse than others, but today has been good. Probably because I knew you'd be here today." You laughed together. "Uncle has gone out to go get supplies for supper tonight, he should be back soon."

Sebastian behind you muttered something incoherently.

Anne looked at him. "Something on your mind?"

He glanced up from the palm of his hand which he had been absentmindedly tracing. He formed his lips into a tight line. "Nope. Nothing at all... I'll be outside if you girls need anything." He was quick to leave.

You grew a little confused at his rushed exit. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"

Anne scoffed a little. "Oh, it's - it's nothing, it's silly." She brought you to sit at the dining table with her. "He's just a little snippy because Solomon gave him a haircut," she explained.

You didn't know whether to laugh or not. "What?"

Anne shook her head a little. "Ever since we were young, after our parents died, every summer Uncle Solomon will give Sebastian a haircut if he thinks it's gotten too long to do labor with."

You grimaced at the thought of that man giving you a haircut and began to felt sympathy for Sebastian the more you thought about it. "Oh..."

"Solomon recently thought it had gotten too long... I have never seen Sebastian fight it more than he did this time. Honestly, I think it had something to do with you coming so soon."

You frowned. "I'd never make fun of him if that's what he thought."

"He knows that, it's just..."

You tilted your head. "It's just... what?"

She leaned in a little. "It's just that he wants to look his best when he's around you."

"Why should that matter?"

She looked a little taken aback. "My Merlin, do you really not know?"

"Know what?"

"You don't!" she exasperated.

"Don't know what?" You were starting to get a little desperate.

Anne looked around as if to make sure no one was listening. "Be honest with me here... do you fancy my brother?"

You nearly choked out your saliva as you gasped in shock. "What?! No! Me?! No!" You avoided her eye contact as well as her wide grin.

"Oh my gods! You do!" She began to laugh as if it was hysterical. "I knew it!" She slapped the table. "And Sebastian told me you didn't think of him that way..." She shook her head. "I should've listened to Ominis." She began to ramble off about you, Sebastian, and Ominis.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't tell him I told you, but sister to sister you have to know... that my brother - my twin - is totally in love with you."

You blinked a few times as you attempt to process this information. "What?"

"Now before you start asking - "

"Has he told you that?! Since when?! Why has he never told me?!" you blurted.

"He - "

Suddenly, the door swung open. Heavy footsteps treaded in, the wooden floors creaked underneath the new weight. You turned your head and was met with Solomon whose facial expression hadn't changed since the last time you saw him. A deep scowl.

"You're here early," he grumbled.

Your eyes glimpsed at the grandfather clock in their house. You weren't early, in fact you were actually a little late, but there was no way you would correct him. So, instead, you gave a sweet smile. "I had anticipated some interruption during my travels, but lucky for me none came."

He gave a stiff nod and shuffled his way to the kitchen. "Hope you like Shepard's pie."

Even if you didn't, you would never admit it. "Love it!" You eyed Anne who was holding back a giggle.

"Where's that boy?" he asked, unpacking the produce and meat.

"He's outside, working in the back," Anne answered.

He glared. It wasn't directed toward Anne, but it still managed to make you two cower a little. "No manners that boy has! Invites a guest over and then - " The rest of it was mumbled as he stormed out of the house.

You and Anne could hear muffled shouting.

You turned to Anne. "Anne, about Sebastian - " You were interrupted this time by the door. However, Solomon was now accompanied by Sebastian.

So, that's why he's wearing a hat. You thought to yourself.

Solomon shoved his toward the table where you and Anne sat at. He huffed and sat down beside you.

Anne glanced between the two of you with a sly smile. "So, MC... you said you've been busy, doing what exactly?"

"I've been helping Mr. Weekes at Spintwitches Sporting Needs, he has some new ideas for broom upgrades that I've been assisting him with."

"Sebastian told me you were a good flyer, better than Imelda from what he's told me."

Sebastian had seemed to've perked up. "She's the best on the team."

You breathily scoffed. "That's pushing it a little."

"Nonsense, people think you're gonna get chosen for captain in this new year," he said.

"Don't let Imelda hear that, it'd be over her dead body would I get that position," you half-heartedly joke.

"Anything else you've been doing?" Anne inquired, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"I've been helping Mr. Hill with modeling clothes, helping Sirona at the Three Broom Sticks - cleaning and whatnot, helping J. Pippins with potion deliveries, of course running my own shop - "

"Have you been taking breaks?" Sebastian asked.

You frowned a little at his look of concern. "Of course I have been taking breaks, I''m taking one right now, being here." You could tell that didn't ease him. "It's a busy season, but I've been managing."

"But, you've been drinking enough water, right? Eating enough? Sleeping enough?"

Anne could relate this back to the 'he's in love with you' claim, but you could relate it back to the two of them. He's had to care for Anne for a while now and witnessed her downfall, it's to no surprise he'd be protective over your health and making sure you're okay.

"Yes, Sebastian," you assured.

Solomon was cutting carrots (why is that funny to imagine?), when he grumbled to himself about something. He set his knife down shook his head. "Boy! What did I say about wearing hats indoors?"

You eyed Sebastian's expression. It flickered with embarrassment.

"I am not taking off this hat," he argued.

Solomon crossed his arms and stared down Sebastian. "And why is that?"

Sebastian's lip trembled a little. "W-Well, because - " He sighed in defeat, he didn't want to argue in front of you. That was an embarrassment in itself as he learned the more he thought about the day you first met Anne. "Yes, sir."

Solomon went back to cooking. You didn't know whether to watch or not as Sebastian slowly took off his hat. His eyes casted down in shame. Some of his hair was matted down from the sweat while the rest of it had it's own mind. You had never really seen his natural hair, always tamed with gel. This was the first time you had seen the chaos that was Sebastian's hair, and oh how Solomon did not understand it.

Sebastian ran a hand through it, but it only seemed to have stirred it more. The shorter layers sticking out a little, some parts wavy, some parts straight. The longer layers uneven. You deep down hoped that one day it'd be you who'd give his hair the treatment it deserved, because you knew how much Sebastian cared about it.

"I'm just going to step away for a moment - " Sebastian started.

"No, I need your hand in the kitchen," Solomon countered.

Sebastian shut his eyes. His nostrils flared ever-so-slightly as he breathed in sharply. He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Due to the arguing, Solomon did haste the cutting process," Anne explained in a hushed tone

"What does he use for it?" You scooted closer toward her so Sebastian nor Solomon heard.

"Sheep shears." Anne cringed at the thought. "I've been fortunate enough to have never experienced it, Sebastian on the other hand..." she paused. "In our second year, Solomon cut it right before the start of first term, and let's just say... it ended him up with an awful nickname."

"Oh, poor Sebastian..." You sympathized.

"After that he learned how to style his hair and built a new reputation for himself, but I know it haunts him every time this season comes around. I think he's just scared you'll somehow lose interest in him all together if you see him - well... this way..."

You frown and looked at Sebastian whose energy drained in the last hour.

"I don't think that's possible," you whisper, unknowingly.

Anne grabbed your hand that laid on the table. "Maybe it's time to tell him that."

You bit your lip. Your nerves grew the more you thought about such a conversation between you and Sebastian. Where you'd reveal the feelings you've contained since the day you met him. Yes, when you met him, you thought he was attractive, but then you got to know him and suddenly he was beautiful. Inside and out, and that's what scared you.

Were you enough for someone beautiful?

You know Anne said he liked you back, but what if it was all a big misunderstanding? It wouldn't have been the first time.

Could you afford to get your heartbroken by Sebastian?

You think not. Which is why when you got your plate of food, you managed to build up no appetite. You pushed around the potato meat and vegetables until it was nothing but a pile of mush. You could feel the heat of Sebastian's gaze burn into you, but you did you best to avoid it. Eventually, Anne allowed the awkward silence to take over until everyone was done with dinner.

Sebastian stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air," he announced before leaving.

You watched him carefully as he left.

Anne picked at her fingernails. "I'm gonna go help Uncle with the rhubarb pie," she said, slowly, as if hinting toward something. "If you know... you wanna... talk." She eyed the door.

You picked it up her cues rather easily. "Yeah," you breathed. "Yeah, maybe that's for the best." You cleared your throat as the both of you stood.

Anne could read by your stance how nervous you were. She grasped your upper arm. and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Hey, believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. I know my brother better than anyone and I know... you're everything to him."

You could've argued against that, but chose to bite your tongue and nod. She smiled and gave your upper arm one more squeeze. She walked past you to the kitchen. You sighed and glanced at the door. After what felt like a lifetime you took the first step toward exiting the house until you felt the cool breeze against your face. You ventured out a little and turned your head to your right. It was where you two met up the day you first came to Feldcroft all that time ago, before you met Anne, before him and Solomon got into that fight, and before you told Sebastian all about the keepers.

You walked up the steps and to him where he was leaning against the railing. His back was still turned to you which prompted you to rest against the railing next to him. The two of you wallow in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, breaking the silence.

"What for?"

"For being distance."

"It's okay - "

"It's not okay..." He groaned a little. "It's stupid." He shook his head.

"What is? I can tell you, whatever it is, it is not stupid if it's affecting you this much." You knew what it was, but for you to truly understand, you needed to hear his feelings on it.

He shakily sighed. "I know you've noticed, how could you not notice?" He tugged at a strand of his hair which stuck up and out of place. "I swear he treats me as though I'm still a child."

"Sebastian..."

"Don't even lie and tell me it doesn't look bad."

"Could you look at me, please?" He hesitates but does so. "Here..." You stand upright, guiding him to do the same. Cautiously, you began to run your fingers through his hair. You don't verbally mention the way he shuddered immediately when doing so, or when he sighs again, this time of content. You smile, and continue to use your fingers to carefully style his hair. "This is the first time you've ever let me do this."

"Is it really?" He sounded absent. You noticed he had close his eyes and was now leaning into your touch a little more than before. "I've been missing out..."

"Just give me the word and I'll do this at any time for you." You smiled even though he couldn't see it.

"Careful... I think I'd tell you to never stop at some point."

You chuckle but don't respond. You finish by brushing his bangs to the side. Your eyes flickered all around his face. You were so close, you could've counted every freckle, every eyelash, every scar and imperfection that was perfection simply because it was him. Without another thought, your fingers dragged to trace the side of his face down to his jawline. During that, his eyes slowly opened. Your hand didn't leave his face as his eyes bored into yours.

Have they always looked at you that way?

"Have I told you lately that no matter what... you're beautiful... to me?" you stammered.

His breath hitched in his throat. "No," he breathed. "But, then again, I've been doing a terrible job reminding you that as well."

"We ought to really work on that together then, hm?"

He lifted up a hand and pushed your hair back behind your ear. "Yeah..."

"Sebastian?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me."

You could only describe the moment as the stars having finally aligned. He wasted no time placing his lips against yours. There was no barrier of friendship keeping him from doing the thing he's been wanting to do for so long. You both have well crossed that safe line and now there was so turning back. Sebastian pulled you closer as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to make up for all the time he let go by without making you his. And he really wanted you to be his as much as he wanted to be yours. He wanted to memorize the feeling of your lips against his, your body pressed to his body, the tickle of your hair of his face, the feeling of your fingers in his hair. All that he wanted to consume was you.

The two of you pulled away to catch your breath. You both laughed and leaned into each other as you processed the moment as it was really happening.

You sighed, happily. "You know, your uncle is going to be wondering where we went."

"I honestly could care less about that right now." He couldn't stop smiling. He goes to lean in again but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"As much as I'd love for you guys to continue your moment, I was ordered to tell you that the pie is ready," Anne said with an amused glint in her eye. "I'd also like to mention that I told you so, to both of you." She spun on her heel and began to slowly walk away.

You and Sebastian watched Anne walk away with wide eyes. Sebastian intertwined your fingers with his. "I guess we do have all of summer to spend time with each other."

"I'd like to think it wouldn't end just there," you tease as the you both start to walk back to the house.

"Don't you worry, you're gonna be stuck with me for life. Bad haircuts and all." He nudges you, playfully.

A perfect life.

Your eyes soften. "Lucky me," you whisper.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

have you heard of cute aggression i imagine mc having a case of this with sebastian and he's like well at least it's cus she loves me

At Least She Loves Me | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Omg ofc I know what cute aggression is and I LOVED WRITING THIS. ID CHOMP SEBASTIAN TOO IF I COILD.

Words: ~700

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House, Fluff

Sebastian Sallow had no idea what he had done to deserve this.

It wasn’t that he was complaining, necessarily. He liked when you paid attention to him—sought it out, even. But the way you were staring at him now, like a kneazle about to pounce, was putting him on edge.

He tried to ignore it at first. He really did.

But he could feel your gaze burning into the side of his face, your fingers twitching like you were physically holding yourself back from doing something rash. He did his best to focus on the essay in front of him, quill scratching steadily against the parchment, but when you huffed—a dramatic little exhale that was so very you—he finally snapped.

“You’re staring.”

“Mm.”

Sebastian lifted his head slowly, as if moving too fast would provoke you into an attack. “What now?”

“You’re being too cute again.”

Sebastian blinked. Once. Twice. Then, just to be sure, “Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

He set his quill down, eyeing you suspiciously. “I really don’t think I did.”

“You do cute things, Sebastian.” You gestured vaguely at him, your hands moving like you were trying to physically pluck the words from the air. “And it’s making me lose my mind.”

Sebastian leaned back against the couch, stretching his arms along the top of it as he smirked. “Go on.”

“See?! This! This is what I mean! You’re all smug about it, which makes it worse!”

He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself now. “So let me get this straight—you think I’m cute and that’s a problem?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Because it makes me want to shake you.”

Sebastian raised a single, unimpressed eyebrow. “Shake me.”

“Yes.”

His smirk widened. “Like, out of frustration or—?”

“Sort of!” you blurted, hands twitching as you tried to explain the feral energy currently buzzing in your veins. “You’re just—you! And sometimes you look so stupidly handsome and do little things like chew on your quill and sit there all Sebastian-y, and it makes me want to—”

“What?” He was grinning now, utterly charmed despite himself.

You struggled for the right words before blurting, “Bite you!”

Sebastian’s expression instantly shattered into disbelief. “I’m sorry—what?!”

“Not hard!” you added quickly, waving your hands as if that somehow made it less unhinged. “Just—like, a little chomp! Affectionate!”

Sebastian gawked at you, floundering for a response. “You—you want to bite me because you love me?”

You swallowed, fighting the heat creeping up your neck, and doubled down. “Yes!"

Sebastian just ran a hand down his face, as if trying to process how this was his life.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.”

“Both.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh, slouching dramatically against the couch, as if this was the greatest burden he had ever borne. You, however, were still buzzing with too much feeling, and now that the topic had been breached, your hands were itching to do something about it.

So you lunged.

Sebastian barely had time to react before your hands were on his face, squishing his cheeks together.

“You’re so cute and it infuriates me,” you growled, mushing his cheeks even more.

Sebastian made a muffled sound of protest, eyes widening in mock betrayal. “Hey!”

“This is your fault,” you declared, now aggressively ruffling his curls.

Sebastian finally wrestled your hands away and pinned them to the couch, breathless as he glared at you with flushed cheeks. “You menace!"

“You deserve this.” You were grinning, utterly delighted by his suffering.

Sebastian laughed, dropping his forehead dramatically against your shoulder. “Why am I in love with someone so insane?”

You beamed. “I don’t know but it’s too late now.”

Sebastian groaned, flopping back onto the couch with the resignation of a man who had lost every battle but still somehow won the war.

He sighed, eyes slipping closed as he let himself relax. You, now thoroughly satisfied, settled beside him, head resting on his shoulder.

And as he absentmindedly reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, Sebastian thought, at least she loves me.

Even if you did want to bite him.

[kismaguskaboca]

understand.

[diamjem]

mastermind

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian’s attempt to bend the situation to his favor backfires as he realizes he’s been expertly played by the one person he thought he could outsmart.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: manipulator x manipulator, possessive!sebastian, sebastian has questionable morals, garreth weasley is a menace, some swearing, no use of y/n

a/n: this is far from my best work buttt i’ve been sick for the past few days and honestly i think just putting something out there will make me feel better no matter how dogshit it is :pp i was planning on making something romantic for valentines but… everytime i write sebastian he just fully takes over so idk have some slightly unhinged seb!!

[ao3] [wattpad]

they say all’s fair in love and war.

sebastian lived by that adage—bled by it, burned for it. for him, there’s no price too steep, no means too outrageous to attain his ends. he has never been above a desperate measure or two when it came to those he held close.

and most especially, when it came to her.

the vial felt cold between his fingers, condensation beading against the glass as he turned it in the candlelight. the liquid inside shimmered faintly—murky as mud, but somehow heavier, clinging to the glass in slow, syrupy waves. it looked like poison. probably tasted like it, too. to be honest, he didn’t trust it. hell, he didn’t even trust himself right now. and trusting garreth weasley? that was its own brand of lunacy.

he could still turn around, hand it back to garreth, pretend he’d never even considered it. walk away, save whatever was left of his dignity. it wasn’t a horrible idea—actually, part of him knew it was the smart one, but before he could think twice, the vial was snatched from his fingers.

“oi—give that back!” sebastian snapped, lunging for it.

garreth held it just out of reach, smirking. "not so fast, sallow. before i hand this over, i need some confirmation that this is for a harmless cause. i refuse to be implicated in whatever questionable scheme you’ve cooked up this time."

sebastian cursed under his breath. his patience—what little he had—was wearing thin, and garreth knew it. the redhead had always been insufferably good at needling people, and tonight, it seemed, sebastian was his latest amusement.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to unclench his fists. he hated this. hated being on the back foot, hated that garreth was right to be wary, hated that he didn’t even have a decent excuse to offer.

because it wasn’t harmless. and he damn well knew it.

“i don't see how that's any of your business.” sebastian argued. “you don't see me asking why you have a polyjuice potion of the head boy, do you?"

garreth arched a brow. "see, that’s the thing. when i’m the one providing the suspiciously illicit potion, i’d say it is my business." he made a show of shaking the potion mere inches from sebastian’s nose. "take it or leave it, mate."

sebastian clenched his jaw so hard it ached. he didn’t want to explain himself—didn’t want to lay his cards bare—but he wanted that damned vial more.

"fine," he bit out. "let’s just say fawley’s got something of mine and i intend to get it back."

garreth's smirk sharpened, green eyes gleaming with intrigue. "oh? now that’s interesting. do tell, sallow."

sebastian crossed his arms. "no, i think that's plenty information.”

"right, well. seems you don’t need my services that badly.” garreth twirled the vial between his fingers and turned on his heel with an exaggerated sigh. “goodnight, then.”

"wait—alright, fine!" sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “he started courting her." his throat tightened around the words, and he hated how they tasted. "i need to put a stop to it. get them to break up by pretending to be him.”

garreth froze mid-step, then turned back slowly, his grin widening like a cat who’d just caught the scent of something truly entertaining. sebastian cursed himself, knowing there's no going back anymore. "merlin’s bloody beard, this is brilliant. so let me get this straight—you're out here spiraling because some poor unsuspecting sod caught her eye instead of you?”

sebastian's glare darkened. "say it again, and i swear i’ll knock your teeth in."

garreth, the bastard, just laughed. "and here i was wondering when you’d step in and do something about it.” he then leaned in, feigning concern. "but, say, have you considered simply talking to her instead of, y'know, committing identity fraud?"

sebastian rolled his eyes. "are you giving me the potion or not?"

garreth hummed, weighing the vial in his palm like he was actually considering it. "hm… i don't know. this has the makings of a true masterpiece, and i do love a good bit of drama… so tell me, sallow, what’s the plan? break her heart, then swoop in to comfort her?”

sebastian exhaled sharply, rubbing the heel of his palm against his temple. "something like that."

garreth barked out a laugh. "merlin’s sake, mate, you’re actually insane. your possessiveness truly knows no bounds, huh?”

sebastian shot him a withering glare but didn't rise to the bait. it wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone who cared to notice that he’d staked his claim on her—not in the sense that she was some prize to be won, but in the way the sun belonged to the sky, in the way the tide belonged to the moon. some things were simply meant to be; unspoken but undeniable. and merlin help the poor bastard who thought he could rewrite the stars.

see, sebastian’s jealousy wasn’t just a petty thing. it was greedy. cunning. dangerous. a monster that curled in his chest, waiting to sink its teeth into anyone who got too close. whispers behind his back called him reckless, obsessive, unhinged—as if he didn't already know. but he would let them talk. let them sneer. none of it changed the fact that he belonged there, belonged to her. and if some git had the audacity to threaten his place… that was a subliminal declaration of war if there ever was one. talk about putting a big, glowing target on your back.

and unlike hector fawley, garreth knew better than to stand in sebastian’s way. he shook his head before tossing the vial back to sebastian. "that will last you about fifteen minutes.”

sebastian caught it, rolling the cool glass between his fingers. "and you’re sure this will work?"

"as sure as i am that this is a terrible idea," garreth quipped. "love really makes one batshit crazy.”

sebastian scoffed, the edge of irritation sharp in his voice. “for your sake, i’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” he paused, his gaze hardening. “now, what do i owe you?”

garreth only grinned wider. "believe it or not? nothing, mate. i just can’t wait to see how this blows up in your face."

that sounded ominous, but honestly, sebastian didn’t care anymore.

a man does what he must when faced with war. he strategizes, he sacrifices, he does the unthinkable, and most of all, he doesn't hesitate. and love—well. that was just another battlefield. one he’s willing to fight dirty to win. one that wasn’t waged with swords or spells, but with glances that lingered too long, with stolen moments and whispered promises, with the slow, agonizing realization that someone else might take what should have been yours.

and in matters of love and war, you played to win, or you didn’t play at all. best believe, sebastian wasn’t about to lose.

—

the plan was perfect—at least, on parchment.

owl her, pretending to be fawley. keep it short, keep it cold—we need to talk, something vague enough to plant the first seed of doubt in her mind. ask her to meet somewhere public. specifically, central hall, right in the thick of a bustling school day. and then? under the effects of polyjuice, break her heart. loudly. cruelly. make sure it hurts.

she’d run. bolt before anyone saw her break, before she let a single tear fall where someone could see. and that was where he—as sebastian—came in like a knight in shining armor. he would be would find her, offer comfort. a steady hand. a soft voice. because unlike fawley, he wouldn’t leave her shattered and alone.

and then, as a final, satisfying touch—he’d defend her honor by beating fawley into a bloody pulp on the ground. though that last part wasn’t strictly necessary in the grand scheme of things, but let’s be honest—he already had it coming just for even entertaining the thought of taking her from him.

to anyone else, he probably sounded insane. and maybe they were right. but to sebastian? this was restraint. the merciful option. honestly, they should be grateful because he could have done worse. salazar, he'd thought about worse. if he fired on all cylinders, this castle would be ash by sundown.

he’d let anyone be collateral damage—even her own feelings—as long as it meant she’d be right back where she was meant to be. in his arms. he hated how easy it was to justify. hated that he could twist his own cruelty into something almost noble if he looked at it the right way. but guilt? it was a small price to pay compared to the fear of losing her.

sebastian is machiavellian, sure—but borne out of devotion. not out of some cold, detached ambition. and if he has to play the villain to keep her, then he’ll sharpen his claws and bear his teeth with pride. he would ruin everything—everyone, if that’s what it took, and he would call it love.

because, really, how many people in the world were willing to own that? to strip themselves bare and confess, i will ruin and be ruined for you?

only sebastian ever could.

so he stood there, hidden beneath fawley’s face, his heart a twisted knot of triumph and disgust. the polyjuice had done its work—on the outside, he was hector fawley. his voice, his posture, even the sharp, self-righteous smirk he wore like a second skin.

"think about it. a head boy like me and a delinquent like you?” he let the words sink in, each syllable weighted with contempt. "embarrassing."

he could almost feel the sting as the words landed, could see the hurt in her eyes. he wanted to shed the mask and pull her in now, but no—he needed to stick to his guns. this was war, and he was here to win.

"hector, i don't understand—"

he cut her off, leaning in close as if to inject every syllable with poison. “you don’t understand?” he repeated, the words coated in mockery, dripping from his borrowed lips like a death sentence. “let me say it again, then. perhaps louder so it can get through your thick skull?”

that seemed to pique not only her attention but the crowd’s as well. some slowed their steps, others outright stopped, drawn in like vultures circling something wounded. they knew something was happening, felt the tension thickening in the air like storm clouds. her eyes flicked around nervously, panic flickering behind them like candlelight in a draft. they were waiting. watching. the perfect audience for the spectacle he was about to create.

and still, he didn’t let her off easy. instead, he raised his voice. “you're beneath me,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, sinking deep like a dagger. “and i don't know what i was thinking getting involved with the likes of you.”

the words hung in the air, a brutal weight pressing down on her. he could hear the gasps from the crowd, the hushed murmurs of disbelief. he was doing it. he was winning.

but then, just as the polyjuice potion surged through his veins, he hiccupped—just a small stutter, barely noticeable, but enough to pull his thoughts back into focus. he steadied himself, fighting the sudden wave of nausea threatening to overtake him. his borrowed skin prickled, the shift just barely beginning. his time was slipping now.

“are you telling me you want to end this?” she asked, her voice fragile, shaking.

“exactly,” sebastian shot back, flat, emotionless. a perfect performance that almost made him want to clap himself on the back for. “from now on, stay away from me.”

he could see her lips tremble as she processed the words, and something inside him cracked—a bitter satisfaction. she looked as if the ground had been ripped from under her, just as he’d intended. now, all he needed to do was land the final blow.

it was going all according to plan, until—

“is this some sort of joke?” a voice echoed from the crowd, rising in confusion, breaking the tension. “what’s going on here? everyone, move along now!”

sebastian's stomach plummeted straight to his shoes as he saw hector fawley—the real one—materialized from the crowd like some kind of divine punishment, pushing past onlookers who parted with hesitant confusion. the towering figure of the other fawley loomed in the middle of the chaos, his face a portrait of bewilderment. blimey, even in confusion, he still held the same arrogance that made sebastian’s teeth grind. but this time, his presence wasn’t just an irritation—it was a fatal flaw in a not-so-carefully laid-out plans. merlin’s mercy, he hadn't accounted for this. he’d been so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t prepared for the possibility of fawley actually being here.

her gaze flicked between the two fawleys, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and growing fury.

this was spiraling. fast. what was supposed to be a game of control—of careful manipulation—was quickly turning into a losing battle.

"what in the great gods’—" hector’s voice broke through the spell of silence. he turned to her now, suspicion darkening his face. "care to explain?"

"i… honestly, i’m just as confused as you are!" she blurted, voice strained with frustration.

sebastian risked a glance at her, and his stomach twisted. her eyes darted between him and the real fawley. hurt had given way to shock, then confusion, then something worse—recognition, as if the pieces started sliding into place at an alarming speed.

then the hiccup came again, more pronounced this time. a brutal, humiliating reminder that it was all falling apart. by now, a rational person would have seen this as the sign to wave the white flag and accept defeat. but sebastian didn’t feel rational (and let’s face it, he never really was). in fact, he didn’t feel anything but the burning, anxious thrum of his own heart as it pounded in his chest, each beat a countdown to the inevitable.

so he did what any desperate man with nothing left to lose would do.

he turned on his heel and bolted.

his legs moved of their own accord. he could hear fawley losing it behind him—hysterics bubbling up in a strange mix of confusion and anger. even the crowd was erupting into louder murmurs, the whispers now carrying an edge of amusement. the spectacle had officially crossed the line into absurdity.

as he shoved past the crowd, garreth’s voice rose, mimicking the sound of an explosion. the bastard was standing off to the side, his eyes twinkling with an amused, knowing look. garreth's chuckle grated against sebastian’s nerves, his blood boiling in a wave of hot frustration.

sebastian didn’t waste a single moment looking back at him, but he could feel the presence trailing behind him, like a shadow, reveling in the disastrous unraveling of his grand design. the worst part of this whole thing? garreth had been right—this had blown up in his face. and garreth weasley was never right.

“damn, sallow, you almost had me rooting for you there,” garreth teased with a grin, his voice dripping with amusement. “bit of a letdown, really.”

the words landed like a slap, sharp and stinging, but sebastian refused to give garreth the satisfaction of a reaction. his pride was already bleeding out on the floor—he wouldn’t let weasley dance on its grave. instead, he found the first door that promised escape, his hand closing around the handle with the desperation of a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. he yanked it open and slipped inside, the door slamming shut behind him with enough force to send dust swirling in the dim light.

sebastian leaned against the door, his chest heaving as he closed his eyes for a moment, a brief flicker of relief coursing through him. he could still feel the heat of the polyjuice potion lingering in his veins, its effects starting to wear off, but he didn’t have time to savor the victory. he could already feel his form shifting back, the muscles and bones rearranging as his true self began to resurface.

okay, so the plan wasn't perfect. there were a few hiccups—literally and figuratively. it was pathetic, really, how quickly he went from meticulous mastermind to panic-stricken fugitive in the span of a few seconds—no. he knew better than to get lost in the failure of the moment. he’d played his cards, but sometimes the hand you were dealt didn’t lead to victory.

this battle might’ve been lost, but the war? that was still his to win. he would just have to think of another plan...

sebastian exhaled sharply, forcing his mind to settle. he needed to think—to sort through the wreckage and figure out his next move. but before he could, a voice—her voice—filtered through the wooden door, muffled but unmistakable.

“sweet merlin. please don't tell me you had something to do with this, garreth."

sebastian’s fingers curled into his robes. he could hear the suspicion in her tone, the way it sharpened at the edges. he didn’t have to see her face to know she was still trying to make sense of the mess he’d left behind, piecing together what had just unfolded like a puzzle with missing parts.

and of course, the absolute menace that is garreth weasley was enjoying every second of it.

“what ever do you mean by that?" came his feigned innocence, all honeyed amusement, the bastard’s grin practically audible.

"that was sebastian, wasn’t it? polyjuice potion?"

sebastian’s stomach lurched.

"where is he? i saw you follow him out of central hall, so don’t try to lie."

garreth hummed. “ah, well, it seems i’ve forgotten which door he went in… perhaps a few galleons ought to help me remember?”

sebastian’s jaw clenched. of course garreth was milking this for all it was worth. he should have known that little gremlin would still find a way to yield return, because why waste a perfectly good scandal when he could wring some profit out of it? and gods help sebastian—if weasley had ratted him out, sebastian might have to start planning out his murder.

then came a groan followed by the distinct clink of coins. sebastian barely had time to brace himself before he heard hurried footsteps, the sound of someone moving with purpose, closing in on his door.

"best of luck, sallow!" garreth called, his laughter trailing off as he strolled away, no doubt relishing the chaos he’d helped unleash.

sebastian had half a second to curse garreth’s name before the door rattled against his back, the force of it jolting him out of his thoughts.

"sebastian, open the door right now or so help me, i will blast this down to bits. you along with it!" her voice was sharp, a warning laced with frustration and fury.

sebastian knew one thing with cold certainty—whatever came out of her mouth was never an empty threat. she spoke in absolutes, in promises etched with fire and steel, just as he himself did.

he sighed, the sound laced with reluctant resignation, his hand hovering over the door handle as if it burned to the touch. each second he hesitated only fed the inferno building on the other side. he had run out of moved to pull from his playbook—no clever wordplay or sidelong smile that could disarm her now.

he opened the door to the very picture of anger, standing before him like a tempest barely held in check. her posture was rigid, her shoulders squared, and her eyes… merlin, her eyes burned with a fire that nearly matched his own—only hers was a righteous inferno, ready to consume him whole. before he could draw a breath, her wand was at his chest, the tip of it pressing against the fabric of his robes, steady and unyielding. it was a silent declaration that she wasn’t here for excuses or half-truths. she wanted answers, and she wanted them now—understandably so.

sebastian might have been playing war, but now he’s face to face with an opponent who plays to win just as much as he does. it would have been almost admirable if it hadn’t been so damnably terrifying.

"explain yourself," she demanded, her voice thick with an edge that told him this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“where do you want me to start?" he muttered, his voice a touch more strained than he intended.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe start by explaining why you were trying to humiliate me in front of the whole student body?"

he opened his mouth, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “that wasn’t my intention—well, okay, maybe it was, but that wasn’t the point—"

she cut him off with a sharp look, her eyes flashing with something close to disbelief and fury. "oh, really? what, then, was the point, sebastian?"

there was no easy way to say it, but the truth, raw and unpolished, slipped out. "i wanted to break you up."

the silence that followed was suffocating. she dropped her hand to her side, her brows basically shooting up to her hairline. and then—merlin, he couldn’t have prepared for it—she laughed, a sharp, ringing sound that echoed off the walls, and for a moment, sebastian couldn’t tell if it was the laughter of someone in disbelief or the kind that hid mockery.

“that’s what this was about?” she said through gasps, her voice laced with incredulity. “and here i thought i was a victim of another one of your horrendous pranks.”

“congratulations, sebastian. you’ve set a new record—what, a week? a week before you chased another suitor off. ominis bet me five hundred galleons you wouldn’t last a month… of course i had faith in you—" she smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "but i should’ve known better.”

sebastian stood there, his breath stuck somewhere between a laugh and a curse. his stomach twisted itself into knots, a sick, tangled mess of emotions he couldn’t quite name. embarrassment? anger? hell, maybe both. maybe neither. it was all bleeding together, one big, ugly blur of what the fuck just happened?

and she wasn’t done yet.

“with such an elaborate scheme too. but did you really have to do it in front of everyone?” she tsked, her voice laced with mock disapproval, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. “honestly, sebastian. i’ve half a mind to hex you into next week for that.”

he swallowed hard, struggling to keep up. “alright—now i’m confused. you bet on me with ominis?”

“hey, mind you, i bet for you,” she corrected, lips curving into a knowing little smirk. “ominis was the one betting against you.” a lazy shrug, as if that somehow made this less insane. “and honestly? i’m glad i lost. i was starting to miss you.”

“oh, please. like you weren't having a grand old time with fawley.” sebastian argued, trying to grasp back any semblance of control.

her lips quirked into that small, almost pitying smile, the one that always made him feel like the punchline of some joke he hadn’t even realized was being told. “oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” she said breezily, as if the words themselves were nothing more than idle chatter, a passing thought. “he ended it with me right after you ran away.”

“and when you think about it, it’s actually kind of sad for me, isn’t it? being broken up with twice in a single day. in front of a whole crowd, no less. thanks for that, by the way.” she added sardonically.

sebastian blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and something dangerously close to amusement. this wasn’t how he’d envisioned things unfolding—hell, he hadn’t imagined much at all, other than his own selfish drive to drive her to him—but the end result? not too far off. the pieces were shifting in ways he hadn't planned, and yet, he found the outcome strangely satisfying.

his lips quirked, eyes glinting as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “i would say sorry,” he murmured, voice smooth but edged with something sharper, something smug. “but i’m really not.”

“oh, my sweet seb,” she drawled, her voice dripping with that mixture of affection and mockery he was far too familiar with. “i was only with him to make you jealous anyways, just like with any other suitor before him. and let me tell you, it works every time. every time.”

“oh, really?” he shot back, arching a brow, words dripping with challenge. “and what about all those times you came to me, crying your heart out over broken suitors?”

she sighed then, the sound almost condescending, like he was the one who’d missed the most obvious thing in the world. it was as if she pitied him, this strange, delicate sympathy for someone too blind to see the game.

she took a step forward, slow and deliberate, each movement like the winding of a thread pulling him closer. her voice dropped, turning into a low whisper that slid down his spine with the unmistakable chill of danger. "all part of the plan."

a shiver ran through him, and despite himself, he held her gaze. the words hit him with a weight he wasn’t prepared for.

"you’re not the only one who can play this game, sebastian. " she murmured, her voice a honeyed poison that wound its way into his chest, each syllable curling around his heart in a grip he couldn’t escape. "i’ve always been yours, you know that. i just can’t help it if i like to remind you in my own twisted, unconventional ways."

a sick realization crawled up his spine, leaving a cold trail in its wake. he’d been a pawn in her game, manipulated without even realizing it. all this time, thinking he was orchestrating some grand masterplan, when in reality, he was just playing right into her hands.

he should be furious. should be embarrassed. but there was something about the twisted symmetry of it all that made him want to laugh. he’d spent so much time plotting and scheming around her, trying to control the narrative, to bend her to his will. but here she was, doing the exact same thing to him, and what could he do but admire the audacity of it? she had played him just as expertly as he’d tried to play her.

of course this was how it had always been. of course, this whole time, they had been at war all along, caught in a game of endless, tangled power plays, one neither of them had ever truly been willing to admit. a battle of wills and emotions, and somewhere along the way, they'd both fallen in too deep to pull back.

sebastian's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "you didn’t need to remind me," he said, his voice rough with something between annoyance and reluctant admiration.

she cocked her head, the edge in her voice sharp, but playful. "oh, i think i did. after all, you’ve been so busy pretending you’re the one in control. i thought it was time to remind you who really holds the power here."

sebastian chuckled darkly, rubbing his jaw. "alright, alright, you win.” he sighed, conceding—though only because he was enjoying this too much to end it. “how about a truce?”

she raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "a truce?”

the corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers. “no? how about a date, then?”

for a moment, her eyes flared with that unmistakable challenge—the same look he’d seen so many times before, the one that made him feel both like a moth to the flame and the one wielding the match, but it was quickly masked by that teasing, almost predatory smile she always wore when she knew she had the upper hand. when she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

the war was far from over. they both knew that. but, honestly? neither of them would have it any other way.

[tamayula-hl]

The three are suddenly locked in a very small and mysterious storage room…

I wonder what the Slytherins will do after this 🙈

[anto-pops]

Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Following the summer leading up to your seventh year, you return to Hogwarts to discover that Sebastian has undergone changes that greatly appeal to the eye. Your eye, to be specific. There’s no easy way to tell the man you’ve been dating for two years that your attention has been fixed on a part of him otherwise deemed normal, but after a while, you’re forced to face the truth of the matter. 

Alternatively summarized as you have a hand kink and Sebastian Sallow has extremely nice hands.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, hand kink, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

You had to be losing your mind. That was the only plausible explanation for the wild, unrestrained thoughts that had been plaguing your brain for the last week every time you so much as glanced at Sebastian. Yes, he was attractive. He was charming and confident, and quite frankly he was the epitome of male perfection as far as you were concerned. Not a day went by where you didn’t consider yourself lucky to be able to call him yours, and you knew he was just as enamored with you.

But your newfound infatuation with his hands had started relatively recently, and you had no clue what to make of it. 

Sebastian was touchy to begin with, and he always had been. From casually brushing shoulders with you in the Great Hall during mealtimes, to tucking your hair behind your ears at night– the man was constantly finding ways to be closer to you, and your appreciation for his efforts knew no bounds. It made you feel treasured, wanted, revered, and a slew of other things that made your heart swell with affection. Maybe you could attribute your blatant ogling of his appendages to that, or maybe you had just finally started to notice after your Divination class last week. 

Professor Onai, for all her outlandish preachings on clairvoyance, had taken a more mundane approach in teaching her students ‘fortune telling’ a few days ago. “Palm reading,” she had said, “is a delicate and fixed art. It can be as vague as it can be accurate, and it takes an expertly trained eye to decipher the true meaning behind the grooves in one’s hand.” 

You were far from an expert in anything relating to Divination, but you did have an eye for nice things, and Merlin– were Sebastian’s hands exquisite. They were nearly twice the size of yours and covered in calluses, a lingering sign of the grueling physical labor he’d done over the summer in Feldcroft. His fingers weren’t as dainty as Ominis’, but they were long, thick, and lined with pulsing veins that stretched across the backs of his hands and coiled around his toned forearms. As you’d traced the lines on his palm with your fingers, he’d shivered at the featherlight feeling and chuckled at the deferential way you seemed to commit every part of the appendage to memory. 

You didn’t even want to begin to recount the way your heart had hammered in your chest when it had been his turn to read your palm. Maintaining your composure had taken every ounce of willpower in your body.

Since then, your mind had wandered an unhealthy amount.

By some miracle, Sebastian hadn’t noticed your unwavering eye contact with his hands yet. The two of you had been kept preoccupied with the mountains of classwork that came with the start of the new school year, and as a result, your only opportunities to spend time with him had been during mealtimes. Today was different, however, because Lucan had finally set up the first Crossed Wands match of the season. You and Sebastian were both participating, and your boyfriend was all too eager to jump back into dueling after the summer months spent away. 

Your eyes scanned him dutifully from across the room, watching with rapt interest as he chatted with Brattleby about the upcoming fight. Sebastian had grown considerably since your fifth-year, virtually towering over Lucan as he looked down at the curly haired Gryffindor. The latter had gone through a growth spurt of his own, but it was easy to overlook him when he was standing next to your boyfriend. Sebastian was big; broad shouldered with long, powerful legs and thick wrists that complimented his massive, mouthwatering hands. 

Said hands were fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt as he rolled them up, nodding down at Lucan as he replied to something the younger boy had said. You didn’t know what they were discussing, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. His deft fingers adjusted his uniform as he prepared for your duo’s duel, and instead of following suit, you were unabashedly studying his every move. That is, until a voice from your left drew your attention. 

“Did something happen over summer?” 

You startled easily, warranting an eye roll from Imelda as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall. It was a rarity to find her in the Crossed Wands courtyard, but you knew she had been hounding members of the Quidditch team to prepare for trial runs and scrimmages, and Sebastian factored into that assortment of people. Schooling your nerves the best you could, you started to shed your robe in an effort to simultaneously get ready for the duel and distract from the metaphorical eye candy across the room. 

“What do you mean,” you asked vaguely, keeping your eyes pointed at the floor as you moved. 

Imelda was having none of it– clearly smarter than you deigned to give her credit for. “Don’t play coy with me. You’re always checking Sallow out, but since we’ve been back it’s ten times worse. Did he sprout a second cock or something?” 

You damn near choked on your own tongue as you whipped around to glare at her. “Do you have to be so crass all the time?” 

She waved you off, “Yes, I do. Who else would rile you up this way if not myself? Now answer the question.” 

Heaving a deep sigh, you draped your robe over a stack of crates and began to gather your hair back into a loose braid as you muttered, “No, nothing happened over summer.”

“But something is going on. Come on,” she implored with a taunting tone, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement. “At least tell me if it’s something bad.” 

“It’s not bad,” you relented. “It’s– I’m not sure what it is, to be honest. We haven’t even done anything since we’ve been back, we’ve been too busy. But…”

You trailed off, staring at the wall behind Imelda as you brought your hair over your shoulder to finish off the plait. She waited patiently, however, all too eager to get the inside scoop on your love life. “But?”

“I don’t know– have you ever found yourself focused on other body parts? Like, really random parts of another person?” 

The Quidditch captain’s face shifted into a confused expression as she chanced a look at Sebastian, evidently trying to figure out what on Godric’s green Earth you were referring to. “Uh, no? If you’re talking about his feet though then I’m going to ask that you forget I even brought this up–”

“No!” You blurted loudly, drawing the attention of a handful of students in the courtyard, Sebastian included. He cocked a brow at you from across the room, and you flashed him a bashful smile in silent reply before mouthing a timid ‘sorry’. Imelda snickered under her breath when you turned back to her, a deep scowl settling on your face. “Dammit, not his fucking feet. I’m talking about his hands. He has really nice hands– I never noticed before.” 

“You’re telling me you’ve had your knickers in a twist for the last week and a half because of Sallow’s hands?” 

To say Imelda looked dumbstruck would be an understatement, and you suddenly felt incredibly stupid for having said anything at all. You kept your eyes downcast as you tossed your braided hair over your shoulder and slid your wand free from its holster, doing your best to ignore the woman’s burning stare. “Nevermind– forget I mentioned it.” 

“I doubt I could even if I wanted to, but for the sake of your dignity I’ll go grab a seat and let you get your head in the game.” You felt your cheeks heat up instantly in response to her snide comment, and you lifted your eyes in time to watch Imelda turn towards the far corner of the room with a smile on her face. She paused before taking off, murmuring over her shoulder, “Make sure you’re paying attention to your opponents and not Sallow’s hands.”

Sweet Merlin… you should have kept your big mouth shut.

***

As it turned out, your head was so far out of the game that it became collateral in the midst of your duo’s duel. 

It was your own fault, really. Despite doing your best to focus on the task at hand, your eyes had continually wandered over to Sebastian, tracking his movements as he fired spell after spell in retaliation against your opponents. He had always been exceptionally graceful while fighting– be it in Crossed Wands or in the Highlands at your side– and his sudden growth spurt over summer had only added to his preexisting agility. It was all too easy for you to get absorbed in his fluid movements as he ducked and rolled, then blocked and countered every attack with astonishing finesse. 

Unfortunately, that meant you were left wholly unprepared for the Depulso charm that sent you careening across the room into a stack of crates. Your head had been positively spinning as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, but your vision cleared in time to watch as Sebastian abandoned the duel entirely to hurry over to where you lay prone against the broken wood. Lucan had shouted something about the match being called off, but you could hardly pay any attention to his words with Sebastian fretting over you, mere inches from your face. 

“Merlin’s bloody balls, what the hell happened?” The brunet hadn’t even given you ample time to reply before he had hoisted you up in his strong, capable arms to carry you to the Hospital Wing. 

That was how you’d ended up where you were now; laid out in an uncomfortable hospital bed with Nurse Blainey hovering too close for comfort while your boyfriend sat beside you with his arms crossed stiffly over his chest. His expression was virtually unreadable, but you weren’t able to focus on him for long without your head pounding in silent protest. 

“Drink this,” Nurse Blainey dutifully instructed, thrusting a vial of Wiggenweld in front of you as she scanned your bandaged temple. “It will help with the swelling and the gods-awful headache I’m sure you’re sporting. My diagnostic spells came back negative for any internal injuries, but that doesn’t mean you can rush back to your foolhardy dueling club. A concussion is a concussion, no matter how small.” 

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth so you nodded in response instead of speaking– only to instantly regret the movement. Sharp, concentrated pain shot through your head, and you took it as a sign to carefully knock back the contents of the potion she’d given you. A soothing warmth overtook you in a split second, and the throbbing in your skull lessened considerably, prompting you to relax against the pillows situated behind you as your eyelids fluttered. Evidently pleased with your subdued demeanor, Nurse Blainey jotted something down on the clipboard that had been tucked under her arm before turning to Sebastian. 

“I trust that you’ll ensure she actually takes it easy for the next few days, Mr. Sallow?” 

Your eyes cracked open in time to watch Sebastian’s gaze flicker to yours, and the muscle in his jaw ticked as his attention zero’d in on the thick bandage that now adorned your head. “Of course. She’ll be a model patient for as long as needed.” 

Satisfied with his agreement, Nurse Blainey pivoted on her heel and strode to the back end of the room, leaving you and Sebastian alone in a tense silence. 

Heaving a heavy sigh, you gathered your hands in your lap and let your head tip back against the bed frame, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. All of this because you couldn’t stop ogling your boyfriend for a measly twenty minutes when it mattered most… it was an embarrassing and stupid mistake to acknowledge. Moreover, you’d basically ruined the first Crossed Wands duel of the season– something you knew had to be bothering Sebastian, given his competitive nature. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled half-heartedly. “I should have been paying closer attention.”

Sebastian scoffed to your left, and when you peered at him through the corner of your eye, his head looked like it was on the verge of imploding. “Are you seriously apologizing for getting a concussion right now?” 

There was no stopping the frown that spread across your face, and you nervously started picking at your cuticles as your mouth opened, shut, then opened again. “Yes– I mean– no. I’m sorry that the match got canceled because of me. You were probably excited to get back into Crossed Wands and I just… messed it up. I wasn’t thinking clearly out there.” 

“Obviously,” Sebastian countered easily, the amused glimmer in his eyes vanishing before you could take proper note of it. “You’re never one to let your mind wander when you fight, but you have to know I’m not mad about the duel. I was worried about you– I don’t think you realize how terrifying it is to see you of all people bleeding.” 

You gaze fell to your lap as you pursed your lips and lifted your hand to the bandage taped to your temple, trying and failing to recall if you’d actually bled at all. It was all something of a blur if you were being honest. When you looked up at Sebastian once more, he had sat forward in his seat and was reaching towards you, wearing an expression that was equal parts concerned and curious. With your brain still muddled, all you could really do was stare wide-eyed at the nearing culprit of your misfortune; his Merlin-be-damned hands. Those long, flexing digits came to gently stroke the side of your cheek, turning your head to the side briefly to allow him a good look at your patched up face, and as Sebastian tsk’d disapprovingly, you were fighting back a slew of unholy thoughts that had no business arising in the midst of such a tender moment. 

The side of his mouth quirked up as he thought back to your debacle in the clock tower courtyard. “Did your inability to ‘think clearly’ have anything to do with whatever you and Imelda were talking about earlier?” 

Being reminded of your discussion with the Slytherin woman at such an inopportune time caused your face to flush a deep red, and you nervously clasped your boyfriend’s larger hand in your notably smaller one and drew it into your lap. You gently thumbed over the veins on the back of his hand, taking note of the constellation of freckles that ran up his wrist and forearm, and you saw Sebastian tilt his head to the side as he let you fondle the limb. 

“Maybe…” you drawled lazily. Perhaps you would chalk it up to your concussion later on, or perhaps you just wanted to get your insane obsession off your chest. Regardless of the why, you steeled your nerves and swallowed thickly before muttering, “You have really nice hands.” 

Silence. Sebastian said nothing– and that was considerably worse than him saying something– anything. Your brows slammed down just as you lifted your head to gauge his reaction, only to discover a bewildered smile plastered on his smarmy face. 

“…I think you hit your head harder than I thought. Should I call Nurse Blainey back over here?”

Ah. He thought you were delusional. Brilliant. 

Letting go of him as though his skin were heated metal, you sighed and sat forward to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, shivering slightly when Sebastian placed his hand on your hip to steady you. His face conveyed genuine apprehension as he asked, “Are you sure you should be trying to move right now?” 

Part of you was thankful he hadn’t taken your confession seriously, but another stronger part of you was annoyed that you had said anything to begin with. Here was Sebastian, acting chivalrous and doting on you in the wake of you flying face first into a crate, and all you cared to think about was having his hands on you. On your bare skin, between your legs, around your neck…

Something was definitely wrong with you. 

“I’m alright– stop worrying. I promise I won’t overdo it. At this point I just want to eat and go to sleep.” Thankfully he made no move to stop you when you stood yourself up on shaky legs, instead placing that damnable hand on the small of your back to help you keep your balance. You closed your eyes momentarily to will away the vile, uncouth thoughts that seemed to run rampant in your concussed skull, but if the way his fingers tensed against you was any indication, Sebastian clearly thought your brief pause was due to your injury.

“Fine,” he bit out, sounding all too displeased with your stubbornness. “Food, then straight to your dorm. But if I think for even a second you can’t manage, I’m carrying you to bed myself.” 

It hurt to do it, but your eye roll was heavily warranted. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, dad.” 

As the two of you walked from the Hospital Wing to the Great Hall, you realized just how serious Sebastian was about his promise to Nurse Blainey. His hands were constantly hovering at your side, ready to catch you at a moment's notice in the event you required the help, which you fortunately weren’t in need of. You didn’t think you could take any more coddling– or any more… hands-on-torment, so to speak. 

Ominis joined the two of you for lunch shortly after you’d arrived, and you were unsurprised to discover that he was very much aware of your blunder in Crossed Wands earlier. He made sure you were in good spirits and feeling alright before he began nagging you in typical Ominis fashion. 

“Honestly, a Depulso charm?” He chastised you further, resting his chin on his palm as his other hand came to tap absentmindedly against the surface of the table. “I would have expected something like Bombarda to finally end your win-streak, not a paltry Force spell.” 

“That’s what happens when you get complacent,” Sebastian added helpfully, skewering yet another sausage from the platter in front of you. He had to have inhaled four of the blasted things already. Those deep brown eyes of his darkened as they shifted to the injury on your temple, and if he deposited his food on his plate a little more aggressively than normal, you certainly didn’t say anything about it. “She’s just lucky things didn’t end up worse.” 

Ominis hummed in agreement and looked in your direction. “Yes, do make sure you’re not breaking your fall with your face anymore. I would like to think the three of us will graduate in one piece together, but between the two of you and your extracurriculars, my hopes are lessening by the day.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” came your monotonous reply. “Thanks for the words of encouragement, guys. You really know how to make a girl feel better about getting launched into a bunch of boxes.” 

“Well it was quite the spectacle. I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the school for at least a few days, so get used to it.” 

You didn’t even need to turn around to know Imelda stood directly behind you, presumably with her hands on her hips and a wicked smile stretching from ear to ear. She was exactly who you didn’t want to deal with right about now– especially considering she was the only living soul privy to your innermost thoughts regarding Sebastian– but she had no qualms about sidling up beside you and making herself comfortable at the table. Her face swam into your peripheral vision as she inquisitively scanned the side of your head now decked out in thick gauze and tape. “So, what’s the verdict? Brain hemorrhage? Cracked skull? Memory loss?” 

“Concussion,” Sebastian answered around a mouthful of food. He fixed you with a stern look as though to remind you, “She’s been instructed to take it easy for a few days which means no broom trials, Reyes. Don’t even think about dragging her off the castle grounds.” 

The Quidditch captain’s hands shot up in mock surrender, her expression the picture of innocence as she shifted back a little in her seat. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I take it that means you’ll be out of class for the foreseeable future?” 

You answered swiftly this time around, lest your boyfriend deign to speak on your behalf once again. You’d hurt your head, not your mouth. “For today at least, yeah. I doubt I’d be much good in Transfiguration with a splitting headache.” 

If you were only allowed one word to describe the look that overtook Imelda’s face, that word would be trouble. Her tawny eyes crinkled at their corners as a mischievous glint twinkled within them, and you could practically see her gearing up to say something you knew would piss you off. She folded her hands neatly over one another atop the table and leaned sideways on her elbow to shoot you a conniving look, and you couldn’t help but stiffen as a wave of apprehension crept up your spine. 

“Well let me know if you need a hand getting notes for the day. Though I’m sure Sallow would be more than happy to assist. Isn’t that right, Sebastian?” 

The emphasis she placed on the word didn’t escape you, and judging by the confused expressions on both Ominis’ and Sebastian’s faces, they didn’t miss it either. It took unwavering focus to maintain your composure and not react, and you prayed to whatever higher power existed that your cheeks weren’t as rouge as they felt. You sighed softly and glanced at the brunet through your lashes, all too aware of the puzzled look he now bore. “How about it?” You opted to simply play along for the time being in a bid to hide the true meaning behind Imelda’s telling comment. “Can you bring me the notes later?”

Sebastian nodded slowly, his gaze shifting between you and Imelda for a long moment before he set his fork down and ran his long, dexterous fingers through his hair. Your eyes tracked the movement against your will, which only seemed to intensify the curious glimmer in his dark eyes, and when he flashed you that sinful Sallow smirk you were all too familiar with, you swallowed nervously. 

Surely Imelda hadn’t just helped him put two and two together, right? 

“Am I missing something here?” Ominis chimed in from across the table, a scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“No, no,” Imelda said, the words dripping with false dismissal. The urge to throttle her was intense. “I was just implying that our dear friend here is bound to be a handful for the next few days, so she’ll need help. Let me know if I can do anything, although I’m sure you’d much rather have Sebastian be the one to–”

She was cut off by the booming slap of your hands against the tabletop as you clambered to your feet, desperate to escape her pointed comments and Sebastian’s prying stare. “Will do!” you exclaimed with too much bite. You lowered your voice and did your best to keep your tone even, “I’m sure I’ll manage, but I can’t be bothered to figure it all out right now. I’ll just– I’ll see you guys later.” 

You didn’t dare look back as you swung your legs over the bench and took off towards the massive double doors. At this point, you were wishing that your collision with the crates had put you in a coma. Maybe then you could have avoided Imelda’s inevitable pestering, but even then you were positive your nuisance of a friend would have found a way to taunt you in your dreams. This was something you were going to have to acknowledge with Sebastian sooner or later, but until that day came you would do everything in your power to avoid any more awkward run-ins with Imelda. At least when Sebastian was with you, you reasoned. For now, you needed to get away from the general public and sleep on your deranged thoughts before anything else embarrassing could happen.

Apparently the universe had other plans for you, however. You recognized Sebastian’s heavy footsteps running up behind you without even checking to be certain, and even though you wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep the remainder of the day away, when his large hand came to coil around your bicep to halt you in your tracks, you let him. 

“Hey, are you alright?” His eyes softened as they took in your miserable appearance, but all you could pay attention to was the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of your arm as he held you in place. “I’m sorry if I upset you– I didn’t realize Imelda was trying to poke bruises, otherwise I would have told her to leave as soon as she came over.” 

Shaking your head absently, you stared over Sebastian’s shoulder and directed your next words towards the wall, because that was infinitely easier than eye contact at the present moment. “I’m not upset, you don’t have to apologize. She’s just… a lot to handle right now.”

“I’ll say,” he concurred easily, moving his head so it was in your line of sight– only to furrow his brow when you ducked your chin to avoid looking at him. His jaw clenched and his hand around your arm tightened, if only briefly, and then he was tugging you along after him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 

***

He knew. 

He had to know. 

It was the only plausible explanation you could come up with to give reason to Sebastian’s over-exaggerated use of his hands for the last three days. At first you hadn’t thought much of it; you still had a staring problem and Sebastian still had really nice hands, but the difference in the last seventy-two hours was apparent. It was as though your boyfriend was modeling his hands for you, constantly finding ways to dangle the appendages right under your nose and simultaneously letting his touch linger against your skin for far longer than normal. It was driving you insane, and you were positive he was doing it intentionally. 

Realistically it had started the day after your botched Crossed Wands duel. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had been sitting in the Library to study and work on assignments, your motley trio focused intently on your individual work for the bulk of the afternoon. Ominis was using his dictation quill to take notes, his foggy blue eyes narrowed in concentration while he muttered softly under his breath. Sebastian skimmed his own Herbology textbook with hooded eyes, the book propped against the knee he had crossed over his other leg, and his laid back posture coupled with the way his fingers idly played with the hair around his temples was enough to leave you entranced. Once he had taken notice of your staring, however, he’d smirked to himself and made a show of licking his finger to turn the page over, maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. 

You didn’t need a mirror to know you’d flushed beet red at the suggestive act. 

The day after that, the two of you had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Sebastian had been asked to demonstrate the proper wand movement for Confringo by Professor Hecat, and shortly thereafter she had asked another student, Hector Jenkins, to take point across from your boyfriend for a friendly duel. Naturally you were prohibited from participating without Nurse Blainey’s go-ahead, so you’d stood at the back of the crowd and looked on ahead with rapt interest, eager to watch Sebastian make short work of his opponent, because of course he would. Chocolate brown eyes had met yours from across the room, and the movement that followed was subtle but obvious– at least, to you it was. 

As Professor Hecat droned on and reminded her students of the rules that went hand-in-hand with dueling in class, Sebastian fondled his wand. Quite literally. His nimble fingers had run along the wood, stroking the handle with such a light touch that his pinky had remained elevated the entire time. His thumb and index finger came to pinch at the tip softly before skimming down towards the checkered handle, and he made a dramatic show of wrapping each one of his fingers around the base before deftly angling the thin wood at you. 

Your breath had caught in your throat at the brazen motion, and Sebastian shamelessly winked at you before settling into the usual, confident persona he embodied while fighting. 

To say you’d become a ball of nerves afterwards would be a monumental understatement. You wound up leaning back against the wall with your ankles crossed to ease the rampant ache that had settled between your legs, doing your best to not look like you were going into an animalistic heat, which was easier said than done. 

Later on during dinner in the Great Hall, you found yourself seated next to Sebastian and across from Ominis, as per usual. The evening had started out much the same as always; with the three of you discussing the events of the day and planning for the upcoming weekend. The only difference was your boyfriend had seemingly taken it upon himself to distract you from the conversation entirely, covertly placing his hand on your thigh beneath the table to run the damn thing up and down your leg. Every time he reached your knee, he would steadily drag his palm higher up, teasing you with an occasional squeeze the closer he got to your center. Since you didn’t want to clue Ominis in on his best friend’s antics you were forced to keep your lips firmly sealed– left with no choice but to silently endure your boyfriend’s unique form of torture. 

As Ominis idly discussed wanting to escape to The Three Broomsticks on Saturday, Sebastian’s grip on your leg tightened while he sat forward to spoon a serving of the night’s dessert onto his plate; a colorful fruit tart with a healthy dollop of whipped cream slapped on top. You swallowed thickly as he delicately skewered a strawberry with his fork and brought it to his lips, pausing to reply to Ominis before popping it in his mouth. 

“I’m game, better to go now before Quidditch practice starts again. Merlin only knows how many trials Imelda intends on cramming into my weekends before long.” 

Ominis snorted and set his cutlery down on his plate, “You say that as though she’s doing it to spite you and you alone. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s six other people to account for on the team, and not all of them were blessed with the free time to practice over summer like you.” 

Sebastian side-eyed you briefly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a condescending grin. “That has a whole lot of nothing to do with me and everything to do with them being lazy. But my point still stands– that woman lives to invade my free time, so butterbeers this weekend sounds like a solid plan. What do you say, darling?” 

The brunet chose that exact moment to sensually take the strawberry between his teeth and pull it free from the fork prongs, smiling wickedly at you all the while. A tiny bit of the whipped cream had stayed behind on his bottom lip, but before you could point it out to him or wipe it away yourself, Sebastian did exactly that, drawing his finger into his mouth to suck deviously at the remnants. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you watched his tongue lave over the pad of his thumb and forefinger, and the telling squeeze he bestowed upon your thigh immediately afterwards all but confirmed your fears. 

He absolutely fucking knew. 

***

“I think there’s something on your mind,” Sebastian said from beside you. “Something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Care to share?” 

The two of you were on your way to the Room of Requirement, having just left the Hospital Wing after Nurse Blainey had summoned you there to evaluate your recovery progress following your mentally arduous week. She’d been all too pleased when Sebastian told her you had adhered to her guidelines to the letter– minimizing your physical activity and resting at every opportune moment, much to your boyfriend’s credit. After a few diagnostic scans, mobility trials, and a never ending list of questions designed to test your memory, she had deemed you fit to return to your usual activities– though not before making you swear to stay out of her sight for the rest of the year. 

Affectionately, of course. 

Sebastian’s comment reeled you back to the present moment, however, and you shot him a stern look out of the corner of your eye as you ascended the spiral staircase within the Astronomy Tower. “Unless you’re referring to how stunned I’ve been thanks to your obscene behavior this week, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He skipped ahead of you until he reached the top landing, spinning on his heel to face you as you breezed past him without so much as a second glance. “Oh, but I think you do. Surely you know why I’ve been behaving so ‘obscenely’. You’re the one who gave me the idea after all.” 

Keeping your expression schooled was difficult, but you managed. As the wall concealing the door to the Room of Requirement began to shift and change, you were all too aware of Sebastian sidling up next to you so he could run the tips of his fingers up your arm and over your shoulder, sending shiver-inducing chills down your spine. The gesture was intimate and suggestive, and you sighed softly as you stepped out of his reach to make for the fully formed entryway in front of you– not particularly keen on putting on a show for any students that potentially milled about the tower. 

You made it three steps inside the room before Sebastian grabbed you by your shoulder and spun you sideways, swiftly and effortlessly guiding you backwards until your back collided with the wall, and the startled gasp that ripped from your chest seemed to ignite a spark of interest in your boyfriend’s eyes. The hand he had on you traveled up along the smooth skin of your neck until he had a loose grip on your chin, and the sinful way his thumb trailed over your bottom lip spoke volumes about his intentions. 

“Do I need to coax the truth out of you, or can you be a good girl and say what it is you want?” His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, his touch blazing and leaving you hot with want the higher up your torso it traveled. The tantalizing feeling of his blunt nails scraping along the plane of your stomach had your muscles clenching and your breath hitching, and Sebastian dipped his head lower so he was directly in your line of sight. You knew he saw your rampant need for him reflected in your eyes when his pupils dilated, and he moved his thumb away from your lip to caress your cheekbone as you stared wide-eyed up at him. He cocked his head to the side as he goaded you further, “Come on, darling. You’ve never had a problem with saying what’s on your mind before, why switch up on me now?” 

“Because it–” you started to say, cutting off mid-explanation when Sebastian curled his long fingers around your waist to press against your ribs in a way that nullified all coherent thought. His domineering presence over you left you nearly breathless. 

He smirked, all too aware of the effect he currently had on you. “It what?” 

Merlin, he was doing you in with barely any effort. Reducing you to nothing at the hands of his… well, hands. You were pathetic. He waited for your response though, his fingers dancing up your side promisingly while you worked to formulate a sentence. “I-It’s ridiculous,” you stammered out. “It’s embarrassing…”

The hand he’d tenderly ghosted across your cheek slipped behind your head, and his fingers tangled in your hair at the back of your skull to tug gently. The motion forced you to crane your chin up to follow Sebastian’s unwavering gaze, and his lips were close enough to yours that you felt his airy chuckle fan across your nose. “I already know what it is and I can tell you this much; you and I have very different definitions of what qualifies as ‘embarrassing’, darling.” His head dipped into the crook of your neck so he could better bestow wet, open mouthed kisses against your thundering pulse, and your stomach flipped at the sordid sounds he made as he went. “Come on, say it,” he implored you, his voice like velvet. “It’s only us here– tell me what you want.” 

“I…” you began, shuddering immediately after when Sebastian nipped at the spit-slick skin of your throat. Finding the words was only going to get increasingly difficult from here on out, you wagered. “I want your hands on me. I haven’t been able to get the thought out of my mind since school started.”

As though to punctuate his retort, Sebastian’s hold on your hair and your waist intensified, and a barely there squeak weaseled its way past your lips as he pulled away from your throat to fix you with a heated look. “My hands are already on you, sweetheart. Tell me why, use your big girl voice.”

Bastard. Your eyes sharpened in response to his quip, and your palms came to rest flat against the larger man’s chest before you dug your nails into the fabric of his shirt. “Because you really do have very nice hands. Because the mere idea of having them on me does things to me that I can’t begin to describe. And because I’m asking you nicely,” you purred the last bit to the best of your ability, relishing in the insatiable, hungry look that crossed Sebastian’s face at your tone. “Touch me, Sebastian. I want you– all of you. Please?”

As soon as Sebastian’s lips captured yours, your inhibitions ceased to exist. All you could taste, smell, feel, and hear was him, and judging by the demanding way he pulled you flush against him by your waist, that was exactly what he was going for. You keened needily as his nails dug into your sensitive skin and the fingers buried in your hair wound tight around the strands, and your boyfriend eagerly bit at your lips before backing away just enough to stare at you through his hooded, lust-dark eyes. 

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll do anything you want,” he groaned, utterly captivated by the sight of you so wound up. You caved to his ministrations completely then, your stomach flipping over on itself when his chest pressed against yours and sealed you more firmly to the wall. His groin followed soon after– the long, hard length of him tangible through his trousers as he leaned into your spread legs further– and your own hands finally came to grasp at his shoulders when he rolled his hips against yours fervently. 

“Touch me,” you implored him, the request practically a whisper as it fell from your lips. “Your hands– please, Sebastian.” 

A pleased sound snaked its way through Sebastian’s clenched teeth as he obliged you instantly, releasing your waist and hair to run his hands down your torso before delving beneath your shirt. The rough, chill-inducing feeling of his calloused palms trailing against the bare skin of your stomach had you moaning in earnest, and your head tipped back against the wall with a thunk as he cupped your breasts in those heavenly hands you’d grown to adore so much. Sebastian took full advantage of your submissive position and buried his head in the exposed crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he murmured, “You sound incredible when you beg, darling. So fucking perfect– gods.” 

No words came to you to formulate a reply, especially when your boyfriend’s tongue darted out of his mouth to lave down the slender column of your throat, the biting sting of his teeth on your shoulder following soon after. Your next breath caught in your chest when Sebastian ground his stiffening cock against you once more, and his airy chuckle against you was seductive and ripe with promise. Those nimble fingers of his clawed gently over the rounded tops of your breasts before pinching your hardened nipples, and that was what finally pulled coherent English from your lips. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, unaware of just how much the brunet adored the needy timbre to your voice. 

Sebastian’s hands left your body for the briefest of moments to push himself off the wall, then took you by the hand to guide you towards the small bedroom tucked away in the back of the Room of Requirement. Between the two of you, your combined excitement was palpable– thick enough to cut with a knife– and as soon as you made it through the threshold of the door, he was back on you in a heartbeat. It was all a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongue as he steered you backwards towards the spacious bed, those magnificent hands of his holding your hips steady with firm reassurance. 

Once the backs of your calves connected with the mattress, Sebastian pulled away from your mouth with a wicked smirk, giving you a playful shove that sent you sprawling back on the bed with a startled yelp. It hardly mattered, though. Not when the man before you began undoing the buttons on his own shirt, exposing the tanned, freckled expanse of his toned chest. Not when he shrugged the attire off his sculpted shoulders and lowered himself to his knees so he could peer at you over your bent knees. Nothing else mattered aside from him.

“You know,” he started to say as his hands reappeared on your hips, tugging at the waistline of your trousers so they started to slide over your hip bones. “You’ve inadvertently given me lots of new ideas.” 

A shiver coursed its way down your spine at the suggestive tone he spoke the words with, amplified tenfold by the unrepentant fantasies that flickered through your mind. “Oh really?” 

“Really,” he agreed simply. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he gestured wordlessly for you to lift your hips so he could slide your pants down your outstretched legs. You obeyed, if only to get a move on with things so you could see the new ‘ideas’ Sebastian had apparently come up with. Dark, eager eyes met yours as he dropped your clothing to the floor, and then Sebastian asked, “Do you trust me?” 

Without missing a beat, you murmured, “Always.” 

Not another word was uttered, and you watched through hooded eyes as Sebastian prowled up the edge of the mattress to crawl over your prone form. Amusement seemingly glimmered in his lust-laden gaze as he set to expertly unbuttoning your shirt with his adroit digits, revealing inch after inch of your flushed torso, and goosebumps broke out over your stomach in the wake of Sebastian’s knuckles brushing against your heated flesh. 

He didn’t bother removing your blouse fully, opting to instead flick the sides of the undone top outward to let them hang disheveled against your sides. The shallow, anticipatory breaths you let loose was the only sound you made as the freckled man above you gathered your wrists in one of his larger hands to pin them above your head, and the entire time he worked to restrain your arms, his eye contact with you remained unwavering. Warriness and excitement alike pooled in the lower pit of your gut, mixing with the telltale ache between your legs that fueled the heat that slithered through your veins. 

Sebastian’s free hand came to touch you then, starting at the swell of your breasts before he gently thumbed over the peak of one of your nipples. The sensation had you sucking in a breath loud enough to make your boyfriend pause– only for him to repeat the motion a second time. “You’re rather pent up, aren’t you?” 

Despite yourself, you narrowed your eyes in response to his taunting and rolled your head to the side in an attempt to hide the blush you knew spread across your cheeks. “Shut up…”

The hand on your breast flew to your face, gripping your chin and turning your head back so you were forced to meet his penetrating stare. “Come on, be honest,” he goaded you further. “You missed me. Say it.” 

“Of course I missed you,” you relented quickly. “I didn’t see you for two months.”

That damnable smirk of his made its grand reappearance, and you hated how much you loved the sight of it. “You managed well enough last summer. Or were you lying through your teeth about handling the distance ‘easily’ on your travels?” 

Your fingers twitched in his unrelenting hold, the urge to crane your neck away again taking over, but you were forced to keep your eyes trained on his. “I wasn’t lying then, but I still missed you.”

The way his head tilted to the side curiously reminded you of an animal attempting to get a better look at their prey. “So why the sudden change?”

Chewing your lip thoughtfully for a moment, you decided to voice your inner thoughts regardless of how bashful the idea made you feel. “Because you changed. You’re… bigger.”

Your drab attempt at an explanation didn’t escape Sebastian, but that amusement still glinted in his eyes as he released your chin and trailed his hand down your torso towards your aching center. “Bigger, huh? Care to elaborate?” 

Skillful fingers slipped under the cotton of your undergarments, already damp with arousal, and you mewled softly when one of his digits slid through your wet folds before pressing down on your clit with delectable pressure. It nearly derailed your train of thought entirely, but Sebastian helpfully pulled away and snickered when your disappointed sigh slipped through your clenched teeth. “Dammit–”

“You talk,” he fucking purred down at you, looking far too smug for your liking, “and I work. Sound like a fair trade?” 

His offer was emphasized by one of his fingers probing at your slick entrance, further enticing you to oblige his request. When you angled your hips to meet the feeling, he pulled back swiftly, quirking a brow at you with a knowing look. 

Bastard, you thought. 

Fine. 

“Y-You’re bigger,” you started to say. “More muscular than before, and I think you grew a couple inches.” 

Sebastian’s hand resumed its teasing exploration of your center once more, gingerly inserting his middle finger inside of you as his thumb took to rubbing titillating circles against your clit. The flutter of your eyelids brought a coy smile to the brunet’s face, and his hold on your wrists tightened a fraction as he increased the intensity of his movements. He mockingly said, “You like having a big, strong boyfriend or something? The scandal.” 

You barely registered the gibe– not with his thumb slowly working over your clit in time with his finger. It damn near voided all of your brain’s function. All you cared to focus on was the bliss that came with finally having his hands on you. “Yes,” you groaned with blatant need. “I love it– I love it so much– you’re perfect, Sebastian.” 

Spurred on by your praise, Sebastian leaned down to mouth wetly at your throat, biting and sucking at whatever smooth skin he found as he pumped his finger in and out of your wet heat steadily. Your head rolled to the side to allow him easier access as he presumably worked a bruise into your flesh, and you relished in the knowledge that he was rebranding you as his after the summer months spent apart. A guttural moan spilled from your mouth as he laved his tongue over the mark and covertly slipped a second finger inside your cunt, crooking the digits up to reach a depth you could never hope to when you were pleasuring yourself. 

He took it slow, half for your sake and half for his own, but as Sebastian scissored his fingers and upped his tempo, he could see how you fell apart for him. You struggled to breathe, your every exhale colored with a panted, needy little sound while your thighs twitched and tensed on either side of his arm. When he shifted his fingers up just slightly, your entire body shuddered as your back arched off the bed and you choked on a breathy whine. You were so sensitive, so incredibly vocal, and it was driving him crazy. 

Sebastian’s size allowed him to stretch over the majority of your upper body easily, his hold on your arms still firm as he dipped his head lower to lick his way down to your breasts. Ever so gently, he took one of your nipples between his teeth and clamped down with a cautious amount of pressure, increasing the pace of his fingers when he heard your breath hitch in your throat. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your chest as your heart rate sped up and your hips involuntarily bucked up into his hand in search of more friction– more of him. 

“Merlin–” you writhed atop the sheets as that familiar ache took root in your gut, your finish approaching dangerously fast as Sebastian pressed the palm of his hand against your clit and somehow managed to pump his digits deeper inside of you. “Fuck, fuck!” 

He pulled away from your torso to watch you with rapt interest, a flicker of something primal flashing in his brown eyes as he observed your features pinching together with obvious focus as you chased the euphoria he bestowed upon you. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it… I never thought just my hands could do it for you like this, sweetheart. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” 

His words meant nothing to you– not right now. Your climax was so close, so painfully close that all you cared to focus on was the steady rhythm of Sebastian’s fingers and his strength holding your wrists down to the bed. Brainlessly, you rolled your head to the side as Sebastian worked you towards the edge, only to blink blearily up at him when he released your wrists to grab the underside of your jaw and force your eyes back on him. 

“Look at me while you come on my fingers. I want to see every second of it.” 

Who were you to say no? 

Your release was akin to a tidal wave– crashing over you violently and stealing your breath as you tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and glued to Sebastian. Mouth falling open around an airy moan, your boyfriend continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm as he captured your lips in a desperate, lethal kiss. “That’s it,” he groaned into your parted lips. “Good girl.” 

The brunet had the good grace to slide his fingers out slowly while he pulled away, laughing softly at the slight jolt your body gave when his palm grazed over your bundle of nerves once more. Dazed and twitching beneath him, you didn’t notice he’d brought his hand to his mouth until it was inches from your face, and the stars clouding your vision cleared just in time to watch him take the two fingers that had previously been inside of you between his lips. 

“I– what are you doing?” Your incredulous tone didn’t deter Sebastian in the slightest, and he smirked around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth with an audible wet sound. 

“Tasting you,” he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Then with a wink he added, “You’re very sweet.” Nearly all the blood in your body rushed to your cheeks in that instant, warming your face as your mouth fell open in silent shock. It was balmy– completely and utterly bewildering. Yet you couldn’t help but find the brazen move equally… arousing. 

You’d officially lost your mind. 

In a flash, he lowered his hand closer to your own open mouth, shoving the fingers past your lips and grinning when you squealed with indignant surprise. There was nowhere for you to go– nowhere for you to turn your head to escape the taste of yourself on his digits– and so you were left with no choice but to allow Sebastian to run his fingers along your tongue. The added knowledge that you found his hands so alluring only made the whole spectacle more intimate, and before you could stop yourself, you found yourself sucking shamelessly at his skin, working your tongue over his knuckles as you stared up at him with unrestrained desire. 

“Gods,” he muttered, swallowing thickly before pulling his fingers free from your mouth. His voice was shaky, and you dimly registered that your eager submission had gotten to him. 

You licked the remnants of yourself from your lips as Sebastian shuffled back to the edge of the bed, standing straight to hastily undo his trousers and shove the material down his long, toned legs. Numbly, you followed suit, sitting up shakily to shrug off your now wrinkled blouse and toss it aside to join the growing pile of clothing at your boyfriend’s feet. 

Nude as the day he was born, Sebastian confidently stared down at you and took in the full picture of you before him with an animalistic hunger shining in his eyes. His chestnut hair was unruly and curled wildly in every direction, the breaths he hurriedly sucked down causing his shapely chest to rise and fall in a way that dragged your attention to his strong, capable body. You drank in the sight of his tan, freckled skin, your wide eyes roving lower and lower until they landed on his hard cock arching proudly against his taut stomach. 

Maybe you were imagining things, but you could have sworn that was bigger too. 

When your eyes jumped back to Sebastian’s, you were positive he knew exactly what you’d been thinking, if his wolfish grin was anything to go by. “See something you like?” 

“Please fuck me,” you groaned, too turned on by the sight of him alone to be embarassed about how desperate you sounded. 

Sebastian effortlessly crawled back onto the bed and settled over you, pulling you into another intoxicating kiss as he slipped between your spread thighs and rolled his hips, grinding his achingly hard cock against your slit with a dizzying sort of precision. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, your eyes squeezing closed before you tilted your head back and arched up against him. “F-Fuck, you’re so hard,” you gasped, loosely hooking your legs around Sebastian’s hips. 

Groaning his agreement, Sebastian nipped at the side of your jaw and murmured, “You have no idea… want you bad.” He nuzzled your ear for a moment, humming at the way you shivered under him, then mouthed his way down your throat with hot, wet kisses that pulled a slew of tiny noises out of you as he rocked his hips again. 

Before you could wrap your arms around his shoulders like you’d planned, Sebastian was sitting back on his heels to manhandle you exactly where he wanted you. Those big hands of his grabbed you by your waist, hauling you down the bed like you weighed nothing so your rear was balanced over the tops of his knees and he was perfectly aligned with your slick entrance. The way he easily moved you around spoke volumes of the physical labor he’d done over the summer, slaving away the muggle way to restore his Uncle’s former home for the two of you to use after graduation. Every stone moved, every log chopped, and every wheelbarrow trundled was cataloged within the corded muscles that lined his body. 

If you weren’t already head over heels for the man, you were certain you would be deemed grossly smitten.

Sebastian’s hands slid from your waist to your thighs to better hold you in place as he bumped the tip of his cock against you, and your breath stuttered in your chest at the first steady roll of his hips, the head sliding home easily into your slick, tight, and warm heat. Your name fell from your lover’s lips in the form of a ragged moan, fingers digging into your legs as he rocked his hips slowly, feeling for any tension or resistance. Everything he’d done to soothe you, however, had paid off, and he found that once he pressed in more firmly, you took him perfectly, letting him slide deeper with every short thrust. 

He really had gotten bigger.

“I could tell you thought so,” Sebastian said around a laugh. Had you said that out loud? “Your eyes just about bugged out of your head when you looked earlier.” 

Embarrassed for the nth time in the last week, you looked away from him and quietly grumbled under your breath, “Whatever… don’t let it get to your head. Your ego is big enough as it is.” 

“It’s not the only thing that’s big apparently,” he countered easily. As though to punctuate the statement, Sebastian pulled his hips back once more before spearing into you with brutal efficiency, and the gasp that ripped from your throat then was followed by a breathless sound that bordered on a wail. 

It was so thick– Sebastian’s cock– and it filled you up and spread you open so incredibly, but it was the angle that was really rendering you incapable of thought. With your hips elevated, the blunt head brushed past your sweet spot with every dragging thrust, re-lighting that fire in your blood that threatened to set you ablaze. You wanted more, but you were almost afraid of how good it would feel, how high it would take you. Sebastian was all around you, with his hands gripping your thighs, deep inside you, stirring you up and coaxing brainless whimpers out of you, not bothering to hold back for your sake– and thank the gods for that. 

A meek keening sound arose from your throat as you gasped Sebastian’s name, and the brunet responded with a rough growl, stroking your thighs tenderly before abandoning one of them to place his hand on the lower part of your stomach. He pressed down with his fingers splayed against your skin, thrusting into you deeper so you could really feel every long, delectable inch of him within you, and the added pressure made your head spin and your walls clamp down on him. 

“Oh, fuck–” you moaned wantonly, arching your spine as much as you were able in a bid to feel as much as possible. Sebastian responded by moving his grip on your thigh to your waist, fucking into you harder until all you were capable of doing was whining for more with your eyes unfocused. Rational thought was gone– you were losing your mind with the way Sebastian was pounding into you now, that fire spreading through you– but you had quickly stopped being afraid of the feeling. The hotter you got, the more Sebastian’s perfect aim drove you higher until you were arching and pleading, noisy and half-coherent as overwhelmed tears filled your eyes. 

When you finally caught hold of words beyond brainless, wavering cries, you threw your head back with a gasping whine to loudly beg, “Sebastian, please, please–” 

“F-Fuck,” he stuttered out, moaning desperately into the empty air before he rasped, “You like it that much, darling? Want more?” 

“Yes!” You clawed mindlessly at the hand he had clamped against your waist, urging him to use the damn thing in the way you had dreamt of every night since returning to school. Ever the fast learner, Sebastian obliged you mercifully and let go of your waist, leaving you to hook your legs around his hips as he brought his hands to your throat to pull you onto his cock harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and muddling your brain further. 

“You look so perfect with my hands around your neck, darling.” Sebastian growled out in-between bestial grunts. “So pretty, so eager. Is it good?” 

He wasn’t choking the life out of you by any means, but the pressure he applied on either side of your neck added a sort of high that left your tongue useless in your mouth. You could hardly formulate words, much less a full sentence, but you still managed to stammer out a raspy, “Y-Yes, fuck–”

You were fairly certain you were drooling all over yourself, but you couldn’t find the willpower to care. There were too many sensations to keep track of, and through the haze of it all, your climax came into sight. Your hand came to grasp at one of the ones Sebastian had secured around your throat while the other fisted in the sheets, squeezing as hard as you could as you rutted back against his hips the best you could. It wasn’t doing much as far as you were concerned, but Sebastian evidently appreciated your attempt as he groaned roughly, letting his head hang between his shoulders as he began pumping his hips faster. 

“Shit– I’m close, I’m so close–”

Beyond your moans of encouragement, there wasn’t much else you could say. Sebastian took your motivating sounds in stride though, keeping one hand clamped around your neck securely as the other flew down to your clit, instantaneously rubbing urgent little circles around the nub in a bid to take you with him over the edge. Your voice was already raspy but so much louder and needier than Sebastian’s short moans of your name, and his half-baked praises and pleas intermingled with the distant banging of the headboard against the stone wall. Even through all that– through the spiking volume of your pleasure and the blinding need devouring you both– all Sebastian saw was you, and all you saw was ecstasy. 

When you finally came you wailed, long and loud as your hands clung to the sheets beneath you and Sebastian’s thick wrist alike, the latter of which knew better than to stop now. Your muscles tensed dangerously tight, your toes curling hard and your nails scraping fresh tracks down Sebastian’s forearm hard enough to leave welts, and your boyfriend was already holding on by a thread by the time your cunt clamped down tight around him. It was almost too hard to move, but there was just enough give that your climax peaked impossibly further and Sebastian fell right after you, crying your name over and over with the rough, faltering tempo of his hips. 

The two of you were hardly aware of anything as you both slowed down and came off of that high, but you eventually blinked the fog from your mind and came to realize Sebastian had long since abandoned his hold on your throat in favor of laying across your prone form, lightly peppering kisses against your collarbone as he sucked down breaths to catch his breath. The stinging twitch of uncoiling muscles and the swelling bites and scratches only served to bring you both back to reality in slow, leisurely time with one another, and at the end of it all it was Sebastian who found his voice first, murmuring yet another snide comment into the crook of your shoulder. 

“Should I start wearing gloves now?” 

Still breathless and spent from the last hour– hell, the entirety of the last week– your delirious laughter was uncontrollable as you realized and quickly accepted that the truth was now out there, and your boyfriend was more than ready to take full advantage of that. “I don’t think gloves will help, honestly.” 

The remainder of the school year would end up being a testament to just how true that claim actually was, you guessed. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, would most certainly enjoy every second of it. 

[sonolynn]

Thou Shalt Not Covet.

summary | Aemond loved her first, and it would be Aemond who loved her last.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Fem!Reader

tags | infidelity (cheating), cussing, alludes to smut, mentions of drinking, whores etc (normal Aegon things), typical Targcest, jealous and possive Aemond

w.c | 1.2 k

note(s) | This is my first Aemond fic! I haven't read the books, and have only seen the show so if Aemond is ooc then I'm sorry!

______________________________________________________________

She was his. By the way of his mind she belonged to him. His brother, first to everything and last to nothing, got everything Aemond wished he had. The iron throne, the crown, her. The marriage between her and Aegon was strictly political; there was no love, no affection between the two. If Aemond was honest with himself he liked that, liked how her affection could be saved and harboarded for him only. 

Aegon had his spoils. He had bastards, he had whores, he had wine. He did not need her, nor did Aegon particularly want to have her. But Aemond did. 

Because of Aegon’s particular disdain for his wife, the times that she was left alone and in the confines of her chambers were more than not. On these nights, Aemond would find himself climbing up the stairs, his hands shaking slightly, and his mind racing as the guards opened the door and let him enter his niece's chambers. 

______________________________________________________________

“Uncle.” Her voice rang out over the fire in her chambers, and Aemond felt his heart rate pick up. She held a book in her lap, no doubt trying to wrap her mind around the philosophies written into the texts. Aemond felt himself shiver lightly, the sound of her voice seemingly always doing things to him. 

He said her name softly, and he smiled to himself as he walked over to sit next to her. She smiled, her hand wrapping around his and her voice soft.

“How do you fare?” That is how all of their nights began. The light conversation of “how do you fare?” eventually led to her bed. 

Aemond’s eyes caressed her skin, his hands worshiping her body as his voice sung praises of her victories over his mind, soul, and body. He would not ravish her like his brother did, no. He would worship and glorify her body before him as if she was a temple, he would exalt her pleasure to the highest of highs before he even thought of his. Aemond treated her like a goddess, and she was reminded of this every time her name fell from his lips and his seed spilled inside of her.

When he would finish he wouldn’t leave her to clean up on her own, or fall asleep. He would kiss her body softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as she came down from her high. He would hold her until she fell asleep in his arms, and in the morning he would wake, admire her body and her face that still shone in the glow of intimacy, before he would dress and leave. 

______________________________________________________________

She liked the garden. She, truthfully, adored the garden. It was, she thought, the only place where she would be free from listening to the moans of Aegon’s whores and the drunken laughs that would escape his lips. 

She found solace in the way the leaves swayed in the wind, the way the sun shone lightly through the cracks of the trees. But, what she truly waited for was Aemond. Once his duties were done he would come into the garden, and they would walk, and talk with one another for what felt like hours. 

On this particular day, the two walked and talked about nothing in particular-just how both of them liked it. But, a pair of seething eyes followed the two as they walked. Angered and betrayed, Alicent turned and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

When Aemond entered his chambers later that night, he was met with the burning gaze of his mother. His face remained stoic, and he slowly started to take off his belt that held his sword. 

“Mother. I did not expect you.” He spoke, his face illuminated by the fire as he sat in a chair, getting comfortable. His mother stood, standing in front of him as she glared down into her son's stoic expression. 

“You do not hide it well.” 

“I do not know what you speak of, mother.” 

Alicent gave Aemond a look, seeing straight through his stoic expression and hardened gaze. 

“You know what I speak of. You covet what is rightfully your brothers-” 

“Rightfully?” At these words, Aemond stood, glaring down at his mother with a complexed expression. “She is not rightfully Aegon’s. She is not rightfully the crowns-”

“She is his by law,” Alicent got right into her son's face, her hand pushing against his chest as she spoke. “By the law of the seven kingdoms she is his! You cannot parade around the castle, promenading as if you are an enthralled teenage boy courting a noble girl! She is married-” 

“You do not think I know what she is, mother? You do not think I see the ring she wears, or the name she bears now as a continuous tie to my brother?” The pain etched into the cracks of Aemond’s voice were subtle but not unnoticed. The way he spoke of his brother's wife with so much undignified and raw emotion made it clear to Alicent what he truly felt. Despite herself she sympathized with her son, trying to take his hands in hers as she spoke. 

“I understand, Aemond, how you feel. But you cannot go about so shamelessly coveting your brother's wife-the queen!” 

Aemond roughy pulled away from his mother, a sharp look hidden behind his amethyst  eyes as he spoke. 

"Do not speak to me as if my sorrows where your own!" Aemond seethed, pulling back a few paces as he glared at his mother, “Aegon is no husband! He may be my brother-my closest kin but he does not know how to properly care for her as I do. I know her mother, I know her wants, her desires, I know her more than Aegon has ever even tried to comprehend so damn all the gods and fuck Aegon because I would soon rather feed myself to Daemon’s dragon then let a man like Aegon sew his seed into her and ruin the beautiful women that the gods have given to me!”

The words coming out of her son’s mouth shocked Alicent. She never knew him to be so passionate about something-someone-so fiery as, gods be good, his brother’s wife. 

“Aemond she was never yours-” 

“She was,” his voice dropped and he stepped closer to his mother, breathing down as he glared, “The gods gave her to me, they made her for me! Her body was made to fit with mine, her soul was mine to know! Mother, it was all for me! But you? You are the one who gave her away to my brother. You are the one who took her from me.” 

Wishing for no more of this, Aemond turned, feeling himself breaking a little as he went. He knew he would never be hers, that she would never truly be his. 

______________________________________________________________

“You are troubled tonight.” 

She knew him better than he knew himself. Aemond’s head rested on her lap, her hand gently stroking through his platinum white hair. He breathed out slowly, his thumb idly stroking her knee. 

“I am thinking, sweet girl.” 

“I know that you are thinking, I just wish to know what it is you are thinking about.” 

At this he went silent. He knew no matter what lie he told her that she would always know the truth between the lies. So, instead, he sat up slowly and he gripped her cheek, kissing her softly. As if the words would be lost, and the meaning behind them burned. He made love to her like she was truly his, like she was his wife. As if..she wasn't even able to be coveted.

______________________________________________________________

[whizzing-fizzbee]

This Is How It Starts

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.”

[jmliebert]

How to Win Over Sebastian Sallow

beat him in a duel (bonus points if you smirk as he lies wandless on the floor)

or generally, be better than him at something he take pride in, whether it's duelling, or charming your way out of detention

wink at him, no explanations. just do it and see what happens :)

be confident darling, walk like you own the room. he can't resist someone who knows their worth

indulge him with witty remarks or sarcastic comebacks

stick together even if it's straight to some serious troubles. ride or die sort of situation (Sebastian is the real one)

share some secret with him and watch as he straightens up, eager to prove he’s trustworthy, his eyes lighting up at the idea of being the one you chose to share it with (he’ll guard it like a dragon guards treasure)

whether it’s sneaking into the restricted section or investigating cursed relics, always say “yes” to his wild ideas, be up for an adventure, he lives for it

out of nowhere, pull Sebastian by the tie and kiss him hard

punch Leander in the face

keep s friendly competition between the two of you

offer him a hug or a kind word when he's feeling low, show him you care beyond all the chaos and banter

visit Anne, cheer her up a little (he'll be deeply touched when Ann'll tell him you came by)

show (and teach) him some impressive spell. the more dangerous and not on the curriculum the spell is the better

sneak, plot and get into trouble together basically

tease him about his hair, lightly poke fun at how perfect his hair always looks, and watch him get adorably defensive

complement his freckles

hand him a treat during a study session (food is love)

leave him a mysterious message that leads to a hidden spot in the castle. he’ll be dying to find out what you’re up to

rest your head on his shoulder and watch him freeze for a moment, his breath catching, before he leans ever so slightly into you, trying to act nonchalant while his heart races

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 hi, you can find more of my works about sebastian ♡here♡

[morelikeravenbore]

Feigning Indifference

"— And on the edge of it all, standing alone by the stands, there's you: arms crossed, little pout on your cute face, feigning indifference."

 (I promised Quidditch!smut for the girlies a literal year ago, oop. 🐢🐢🐢 Anyhoo...)

Rated: Explicit. MDNI. NSFW. 🔞

Content warnings: f!reader, no mention of house or appearance, size difference kink, semi-public sex, voyeurism/exhibitionist fantasies, possessive!Sebastian, Beater!Sebastian, feral!Sebastian, excessive use of the word fuck, p in v, unprotected sex.

Word count: 1.8k

[MASTERLIST] [WATTPAD]

Sebastian descends onto the Quidditch pitch, wind-swept, sweat-soaked — victorious.

Like a stone in quicksand, he's swallowed up by the cheering throng of admirers before he's even fully off his broom; Slytherin's mostly, their faces painted emerald, scarves transfigured into woolly snakes around their necks — they crowd around him, beside themselves with the thrill of Sebastian's triumph, back-slapping, hand-shaking, cheek-kissing. Sebastian is glad to be wearing his protective gear against the most enthusiastic among them — not that he's weak without his shoulder pads and arm guards, but some thump him so hard with their congratulations that he wonders if they're Gryffindor’s in disguise trying to put him out of action before the next match.

Once he's past the worst of it, he shirks off his Beater's gear: pads, guards, helmet (even cup, which he unashamedly yanks right out of his pants) hit the ground in quick succession, discarded for the teams’ first-year assistant to collect in his wake (provided his rabid fan club doesn't get to them first.)

Thanks to his seventh-year growth spurt, Sebastian is hardly any smaller without his bulky gear on — a fact he uses to his full advantage to shoulder through the crowd. It takes him several minutes to wind his way through; supporters and haters in equal measure jostle for his attention, girls squeal and find excuses to touch him, Imelda criticises his technique as he passes (even though he just won her the bloody match), and somebody lets off a series of explosions overhead that shower the crowd with green and silver sparks. — And on the edge of it all, standing alone by the stands, there's you: arms crossed, little pout on your cute face, feigning indifference. 

He wants to kiss the frown right off your face. 

‘There you are.’ He grins down at you. You glare up at him.

‘Seven different girls touched your shoulders just now,’ you grumble, scanning your narrowed eyes over the crowd. ‘Two more touched your chest, and that last one tried to climb you.’

Sebastian's grin widens, delighting in your jealousy. ‘Did they?’ He affects a look of innocence. ‘I didn't notice.’

‘Liar.’ You shoot him a deeply contemptuous look. ‘Maybe I should take up Quidditch, see how you like seeing your girlfriend being groped after every match.’

His amusement drops faster than a fumbled Quaffle. Usually, he finds your little jealous streak endearing — after pining after you for two long years, convinced his feelings were one-sided, your possessiveness makes him embarrassingly gooey-eyed and lovesick. But today he's too jacked up on adrenaline to let that comment slide: nobody touches you but him. Not even in your imagination. 

With no more effort than he expends on waving his Beater's bat around (less, even), he lifts you with one arm, bringing your face level with his. 

‘I wouldn't let you play Quidditch,’ he says lowly, his voice deep with authority.

Authority which you completely ignore, like always.

Incensed, you scoff and wiggle and squirm for freedom (‘Ugh, put me down, you brute! — You can't tell me what to do! — If I want to play Quidditch, you can't stop me!’) but Sebastian only waits, watching your little tantrum with a mix of resigned patience and wry amusement. 

‘You're not the boss of me!’ you wail. You’re tiny in his grip, slender limbed and delicate, but you’re agile enough to break free if he doesn’t handle you right. His arm tightens around you, pinning you so firmly against his chest that you squeak. 

‘Yes,’ he growls in your face, ‘I am.’

Despite all the height and the strength he’s gained since you met in fifth year (or the physique if all the giggles and whispers about his shoulders are to be believed), Sebastian is, generally speaking, an unapologetic softie when it comes to you: the most precious thing he's ever beheld, there's not a girl alive more loved than you. But fresh off the field, bolstered by the dizzying rush of glory and adrenaline, all his usual gentleness eludes him. — Suddenly, he wants to do more than kiss the frown off your face. 

A hot lick of desire alights in his belly, as familiar as it is impossible to ignore. Without another word, he hoists you higher and carries you off beneath the stands; game forgotten, celebrations be damned, he only has eyes for you, little doll, little bunny caught in his hungry gaze, so small and soft and devourable. 

You yelp when your back meets the wall, but hidden now deep in shadows, Sebastian only grins, wolfish. Grateful he'd thought to discard his cup, he pins you there with his hips, making sure you feel every sudden aching inch of him between your legs. 

You're his now. You both know it. 

‘How can you be jealous when you're the only one who does this to me?’ He leans in close enough to spill hot words right into your pretty, parted mouth. ‘I should fuck you standing. Right here,’ — he punctuates with a sharp thrust that makes you gasp, — ‘right now.’

Your eyes go wide, but whether you're scandalised by his audacity or desperate for him to keep whispering filth, Sebastian doesn't particularly care.

He wants to fuck the shock right off your face. 

‘R-right here?’ The wobble in your voice makes him twitch. He grinds into you again, sloooowly this time, rolling the entire length of himself against you while he watches you shift from stubborn brat to good fucking girl; no matter how many times he's seen you like this, flushed pink and panting, he's still utterly obsessed with the moment you finally give in. 

Because you always give in. 

‘Why not?’ He begins the careful crumbling of your resolve with the top button of your blouse, then the second button, third, fourth… But by the fifth his patience snaps and he yanks — hard; no need for a vanishing charm, he rips your shirt clean open. Buttons pop off in all directions; he knows you'll scold him for that later, but right now you only have strength enough to whimper. 

‘What if they see?’ You palm his shoulders — but you're pulling, not pushing. 

‘Let them.’ His lips are on the hollow of your collarbone, sucking shivers out of you. ‘Let them watch me fucking ruin you.’

Yanking you away from the wall, he spins you around and envelopes you from behind, one arm curled so tightly around your waist you couldn't wiggle free even if you wanted to. Not that you do want to; that much is clear when his other hand slides beneath your undies. Fingers slick, he fucking moans his way down the side of your neck, his tongue laving a hot, wet stripe down to your shoulder. 

‘You think I want to touch any of them like this, huh?’ He bundles your little body against him like a blanket, his arms taut and muscles straining as he works your moans free with his hands and his tongue. You buck obediently against his palm, and when he slides two thick, long fingers inside you, your knees give out. He holds you up, pinned pretty to his chest, your tits heaving in the open air, nipples begging to be painted wet by his hungry mouth. 

Sweat drips from his hair and lands on your face. ‘You think I want to fuck any of them the way I fuck you?’

Through the gaps between the stands, the Quidditch pitch is empty, quickly abandoned for post-match festivities (or commiserations if you're a Gryffindor). He imagines marching you back out there right now fucking you in the middle of it, stripping you bare and pounding you silly while the teams debrief in the changerooms and the Slytherin's celebrate their win in the dungeons. — He'd never do it for real, of course, but the fantasy of claiming you so openly, having you exposed and babbling on his cock for anyone to see makes him dizzy. 

He wants everyone to know you're his. 

The thought makes him fucking — lose — it. 

Hot and thick in his hand, he strokes himself free from his trousers with frantic pumps and a long, drawn-out whimper. If he's teetering on the edge of control, then you don't stand a chance; he hoists your leg up and rubs himself desperately against your underwear, mouthing your neck from behind, palming your tits with his big, calloused hand. Never has he been more grateful for all the grueling training sessions that have granted him the strength to manhandle you onto his cock whenever the mood strikes.

Undies bunched to the side, you arch your back and reach an arm around his shoulder, begging, begging, begging even as he's pushing in, in, into you. The sound he makes when he's fully sheathed is nothing short of feral; he stumbles forward, that hot, tight squeeeeeze of you so good it makes him weak in the knees. 

It's fucking unbearable what you do to him, the way you make him dribble and buck and moan all sorts of dirty things in your little ear — the way you make him lose control. 

‘Look at you,’ he slurs, anchoring you to his body with the full, hot length of his cock. ‘S'fucking good, s’all fucking mine.’

Holding your leg up, he sets a slow, deep rhythm and imagines himself watching you: a last-minute straggler drawn to your hiding place by your sweet moans. He imagines how pretty you'd look all stretched out and stuffed full of himself, tits bouncing, mouth agape with pleasure, too fucked out of your mind to realise how loud you are. He'd touch himself to it — oh fuck yes he would, edging himself to time his climax with yours. And maybe you'd notice him, a pair of dark eyes burning with desire. Maybe you'd like it. Maybe it'd make you cum harder. 

Fuck. Lust roils thick and luscious in his stomach and he makes a mental note to fuck you in front of a mirror next time. 

He's gasping now, slamming into you so hard your foot almost leaves the ground with every thrust.

‘If only —’ he groans, ‘— they could — see you —’ He drops his head to your shoulder and bites. ‘You're the — ngh — only one — oh, fuck —’

Surely you know — surely you understand that it's always been you; that the way you surrender makes him feel strong; that being inside you makes him feel less broken. Surely you know that he uses his body to say the things he can't put into words. 

It's more than sex: he fucking loves you. 

Your peak hits you first: a long, slow, wet release that Sebastian rides out as best he can without falling over. He moans along with you, echoing ecstasy into your ear, holding you up while your body succumbs to the overwhelming love he gives and gives and gives over to you. And when you're done, spent and shivering in his arms, sweet and limp and loved to the extreme, he follows. 

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Friends Don't

Word Count: 4.2k

Themes: fluff, pining

Summary: Y/N comes to a startling revelation when brewing Amortentia in potions class

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

Meet me in the Common Room, midnight - S 

Y/N looked across the cauldrons at Sebastian and nodded once, a small smile on her face. He grinned back, before turning to face Professor Sharp before he could get caught not paying attention. 

“Is that a love letter from Sallow?” Imelda leant forward, a teasing smirk on her face.

“Come off it,” Y/N rolled her eyes and tucked the note into her textbook. “You know we’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at friends that way,” she shot a look over at Sebastian, who was standing over his cauldron with a confused look on his face. His brow was furrowed as he looked between his textbook and the potion he was making, which was supposed to be a teal colour, but was currently navy blue. “Point proven.” Y/N turned back to her with an unimpressed glare as she stirred her own potion (which was the correct shade of teal).

“You need a new hobby. Clearly Quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough.”

“Watching you and Sallow pine after each other like lovesick Crup puppies is my new hobby.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re in denial,” Imelda smiled sweetly as Y/N and turned back to her potion as Professor Sharp made his rounds by their station. He stopped by Sebastian’s smoking cauldron with a sigh and quiet reprimand (You’re usually better than this Mr Sallow) before moving onto the next group of students.

“If you’ve been following the instructions in your books,” Professor Sharp called out, “your potions should start turning pink as you stir it. Once it’s the right shade you may place the final ingredient in.”

Y/N watched in fascination as the contents of her cauldron began to change colour with every clockwise rotation of her wand. Although she had now been attending Hogwarts for two years, magic never failed to amaze her. She couldn’t believe she had gone the majority of her life not knowing it existed. The colour eventually shifted to the pale pink that Professor Sharp had spoken about and Y/N added the crushed moonstone and watched it take on a pearlescent sheen. 

“Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Y/L/N. Would you care to share with the class?” Sharp loomed over her shoulder, peering into her cauldron. Y/N watched as the class looked over curiously and caught Sebastian’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with her, and looked down at her potion as if to say well, go on then. She leant forward to smell the contents of the cauldron, trying to decipher the scents coming from in front of her. Petrichor, wildflowers and…oh. Y/N blinked and leant back so she could pick up the coffee beans Sharp had left on each station so they had a palate cleanser. After a quick smell of the bitter grounds she turned to her cauldron again. Oh.

“Well?” Imelda asked her.

“If it’s all the same, Professor. I’d rather not,” Y/N muttered, her face flaming. The class broke into a chorus of whispers, all trying to guess what scent had turned the Hero of Hogwarts a pretty shade of pink. Although it was hidden well, Y/N watched as Sharp’s mouth twitched up in amusement before he moved on from her.

“What did you smell?” Imelda whispered to her. Y/N shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn’t tell anyone she had smelled Sebastian’s smoky cologne, the one that seemed to stick to him all day even though he barely used it. Imelda looked between Y/N’s red face and her cauldron before looking across the station to Sebastian and a knowing smirk fell on her features. “Sebastian…” Y/N shot her a warning look, which Imelda pointedly ignored. “What do you smell?”

“Nice try, Imelda,” he chuckled and stirred his own potion. “I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re both no fun.”

“Just because yours is probably something predictable like broom polish doesn’t mean we’re not fun for not wanting to share,” Y/N shot. Imelda let out a laugh and patted her friend’s hand. 

“Careful there Y/L/N, I’ve still got some cards up my sleeve for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Y/N glared at the girl next to her, stomach churning nervously. Imelda just grinned at her before adding her own crushed moonstone to her cauldron, signalling the end of the conversation. Y/N was vaguely aware of Sebastian watching them curiously from across the potions station and turned to face the raven-haired girl next to her, clutching the sleeve of her robes. “Imelda.”

“Calm down,” she laughed quietly and leant in so no one else could hear. “Your not-so-secret crush on Sallow is safe with me. I actually quite enjoy watching you two act like you don’t have feelings for each other.” With a wave of her wand, Imelda tidied her potions station and left the class swiftly, just as the bell rang outside. Y/N cursed the day she met the girl, and more specifically, became friends with her after completing all of her stupid broom trials, and quickly cleaned her own station before leaving the classroom. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the Great Hall for dinner that she realised what Imelda had implied with her parting words. 

Sebastian couldn’t have feelings for me, she wondered, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, could he? No, that’s ridiculous, she shook her head to rid herself of the assumption.

“Careful, Y/N,” a hand grabbed the back of her robes and gently tugged her back a couple of steps before she could fall off the Grand Staircase. “You’re usually more aware than this, where did you go?” Sebastian looked concerned and pulled her away from a crowd of students that was walking their way. Y/N looked up at him, craning her neck more than she used to when they met in fifth year. Sometime in the summer between fifth and sixth year Sebastian had really come into his own. He had always been attractive, but somewhere along the way, without her really noticing, he had suddenly shot up and filled out. The jumper he wore to fight the perpetual chill in the dungeons did little to cover up the muscle that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

“Dinner, I’m starving,” she lied, freeing her robes from his grasp so she could continue to walk towards the Great Hall. “How’s Ominis? I haven’t heard from him much since he went on his unsanctioned visit to see Anne.” Although he grumbled like he was annoyed, Y/N knew deep down Sebastian was a little pleased that his best friend and sister had finally started to court a few months ago. Apparently watching Ominis pretend he hadn’t been in love with her since they were children was sickening to say the least. 

Y/N was relieved when Anne reached out to Sebastian at the beginning of their final year at Hogwarts and extended an olive branch. She watched as Sebastian had read the initial letter, a wide smile on his face and unshed tears in his eyes before he brandished the piece of parchment at her excitedly. The twins weren’t as close as they used to be, but they were slowly mending the bridge that had burned down with their Uncle’s untimely death. 

“Where do you keep going? What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked her. His hand came out to smooth the crease in between her eyes, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. 

“You.”

“Oh really?” he arched an eyebrow, a sly smile falling on his lips. “Is this where you finally admit I’m the most handsome student at Hogwarts?”

“I thought you had three years worth of self-imposed trophies to say just that.”

“Yes, but none of those mean anything without your agreement.” Something danced behind Sebastian’s eyes, a look Y/N couldn’t quite decipher. She was used to his charming nature and the confidence he seemed to exude, but every so often he said something and paired it with a look that was different. He looked…uncertain? Hopeful, maybe. 

“I didn’t realise my opinions held so much weight for you.” 

“And here I thought it was obvious that I hold you in the highest regard.” The air around them changed. Y/N couldn’t pinpoint it exactly - it wasn’t tense, but she felt a palpable shift in energy. She looked away from him and hoped he couldn’t see the blush that she felt rise to her cheeks as she walked into the Great Hall and made her way to the Slytherin table. She found Poppy seated with Imelda, heads bent together as they chatted quietly. They looked up as Sebastian and Y/N sat down, and a downright devilish grin was plastered on Imelda’s face. 

“The rumours about what you can smell in Amortentia and refused to share in class are already circling.”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned as Sebastian filled her plate with food. 

“The majority seem to think you can smell something that relates to Sebastian or Ominis,” Poppy added.

“Ominis?” Sebastian stopped filling Y/N’s glass with pumpkin juice, his tone incredulous. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“How would you know?” Imelda shot at him. “Has Y/N told you what she could smell?”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous,” Y/N cut in, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the large bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned some onto Sebastian’s plate. 

“It’s not that bad, Y/N,” Poppy gave her a reassuring smile. “I think it’s sweet. What you can actually smell, that is.” Y/N paused, the piece of chicken intended for Sebastian’s plate wobbling precariously on the serving spoon.

“How do you know what she can smell?” Sebastian looked up at her sharply, though there was no malice in his voice.

“Imelda told me.”

“Imelda,” Y/N hissed at the girl across the table from her at the same time Sebastian gave her a reproachful look. 

“You told Imelda?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Y/N protested. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She could hear a few of her classmates around them mutter about her, all supplying options for what she could smell in the love potion. “I think I’m going to grab something from the kitchens instead,” Y/N stood and quickly made her way out of the hall before any of them could follow her. The moment Y/N was out of earshot Imelda leant across the table to hit Sebastian across the back of his head.

“Ow,” he rubbed his head and gave the raven-haired girl a disapproving glare, “what was that for?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Sebastian Sallow.”

“Imelda…” Poppy nudged the girl gently before offering Sebastian a sympathetic smile. “What she means is - ”

“Oh, I have no doubt she meant it.” Later Sebastian would vehemently deny to anyone that he was pouting like a scolded child after being accosted by Imelda Reyes, but at that current moment all he could do was sulk as he pushed some peas around his plate. 

“I did,” Imelda offered him a saccharine smile and shrugged unapologetically at Poppy, who looked disappointed at the pair. “If you don’t go after what you want, Sallow, others are going to take it from you.”

“Y/N isn’t some belonging that people can just have, least of all me. She’s a person with her own thoughts and feelings.”

“Who said I was talking about Y/N?” Sebastian’s head shot up to meet Imelda’s self-satisfied smirk and let out a low groan. “My point is,” she continued as he (rather dramatically, Imelda thought) lay his head down to rest on the table, “you’re in Slytherin. We’re ambitious to a fault, and when we know what we want we strive to achieve and obtain it. What’s stopping you from going after Y/N?”

“We’re just friends.” The lie Sebastian muttered on a daily basis felt thin to even his ears, and clearly neither Imelda or Poppy was impressed either. 

“Why could you smell her in the Amortentia then?” Poppy asked.

“How did you know I - oh. I’m impressed, Sweeting. That was very Slytherin of you,” Sebastian laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “What would you both have me say then? Y/N I’ve been in love with you since fifth year when we fought a troll together in Hogsmeade?” he asked rhetorically. If his face wasn’t red with embarrassment before, it was now as the words slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t - I mean, I do? I think. I didn’t mean - ” His stammers were interrupted by Poppy’s quiet laugh. 

“Oh Sebastian, you don’t need a pair of working eyes to know that you’re in love with Y/N Y/L/N. I think the only person oblivious to your feelings is Y/N herself.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin our friendship?” he asked quietly. The girls shared a look, and if Sebastian would have looked at either of them he would have noticed a silent conversation happening between the pair.

“Okay, look. I told Y/N I wasn’t going to tell you this, but you’re behaving like a lovesick second year and it’s making me sick,” Imelda flicked a pea at Sebastian in disdain. “Now, I can’t confirm it, but I strongly suspect that her Amortentia did smell of you.” Sebastian gave her a disbelieving look and sent the pea back across the table at her. “I agree that it lacks proof, but I do happen to know for a fact that she does have feelings for you. She told me herself.”

“She what?” That caught Sebastian’s attention, and that of a few people around them as well. Imelda shot them all a glare and they quickly turned back to their own conversations.

“If you tell her I told you I will hunt you down like the animal you are and use you as target practice for the beaters. I know where you sleep, Sallow.”

“She…” Sebastian was at a loss for words as he looked at Poppy for confirmation, who nodded uncertainly in agreement. “I need to go speak to her,” he muttered, more to himself than the girls in front of him. He continued to murmur quietly to himself as he hauled himself up and out of the Great Hall, his expression wavering between surprise and bliss as he left.

“When did Y/N tell you she liked Sebastian?” Poppy asked once he had left.

“Oh, she didn’t. But I think we can both agree neither of them was going to do anything without a nudge, don’t you? Could you pass the pumpkin juice?”

*

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as she snuck back into the Slytherin Common Room. It was nearing midnight, and although she wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed she trudged through the silent room instead to sit and wait for Sebastian by the fireplace. After leaving the Great Hall, Y/N had trekked her way up to the Room of Requirement to spend some time taking care of the various magical beasts in her vivarium. The animals couldn’t pester her like people did, asking her questions she didn’t want to answer, and worst, ones she didn’t have the answers to. She couldn’t understand why everyone was pushing their way into her business; why did it matter what (or who, she thought dryly) she could smell in the Amortentia? So what if she could smell Sebastian, and who was Imelda freaking Reyes to tell her she had feelings for her best friend.

Well, Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she stared into the dying embers, he was rather handsome. Something he would take great satisfaction in if she admitted it out loud. And she supposed, if she was really thinking about it, he was quite funny, and charming, and smart, and possibly the kindest person she knew, and - oh Merlin, she had feelings for Sebastian Sallow. 

He was her best friend, and hadn’t her aunt always told her those made for the best life partners? Not someone who you just existed with, but someone who knew you, knew every part of you, and would still stand by you. Not that she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with him. Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks as an unwarranted image of her in a white dress and Sebastian looking absolutely striking in a suit came to mind. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A low voice startled her, and Y/N pressed a hand to her chest as she took note of Sebastian sitting in the armchair next to her. He bit his lip in amusement at her shock, but was smart enough to keep his comments to himself.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough to watch you groan to yourself twice and turn the most enticing shade of pink,” he teased. “Where do you keep going today?”he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sebastian offered. Yes, Y/N thought to herself, you can start by bathing in bubotuber pus.

“I’ll be fine, Sebastian. There’s no need to fret.”

“You battle trolls for fun, I think there is some need to fret.”

“You’ve battled more than one troll with me, too.”

“Ah, but there’s the obvious difference. You don’t worry for me the same way.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N sat upright in her chair, a withering glare on her features. “Of course I worry about you, you idiot.”

“Why is everyone calling me an idiot tonight?”

“Clearly it’s warranted,” Y/N sniffed in annoyance and sank back down into her seat. How dare he say she didn’t worry for him, all she’s done for the past two years was worry about him.

Sebastian could tell he had said the wrong thing. He knew - of course he knew - that she worried and cared for him. No one else would have witnessed and experienced everything they had together in their fifth year and still stood by him afterwards. It was never a question to Y/N whether he needed forgiving. Even Ominis, who had been with him since before he could remember, needed a while to come back around and speak to Sebastian again, but she didn’t. Granted, it had taken a couple of weeks as things had happened in quick succession, from the death of his uncle, to fighting Harlow, then Rookwood, to finally defeating Ranrok; but there Y/N was, sitting next to him at Professor Fig’s memorial, silent tears running down her face as she clutched his hand tightly for comfort. 

“I apologise,” he reached out to take her hand. “It seems I’m not quite done putting my foot in my mouth whenever you’re around.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Her words were flat, but she squeezed his hand back gently to let him know all was forgiven. Sebastian had the overwhelming urge to take Y/N into his arms and never let go, but also reprimand her at the same time. She was always the first to call him out when he was being a prat - which, he admitted to himself, happened more often than not - but she always forgave him for it moments later.

He took a moment to watch as she stared into the flames once more. His eyes roamed over her features, from her brilliant eyes, down the slope of her nose and rested on her mouth. Y/N could give any Ravenclaw a run for their money with the amount of wit she fired, and even though Sebastian was often on the receiving end, he loved it. He loved the way she rolled her eyes at him when she shot a particularly sarcastic or dry comment his way; he loved when she teased him and made him question his sanity and oh, he adored it when she would shoot him a rare, flirtatious comment.

He loved her.

The thought took his breath from him. He had said it out loud in the Great Hall earlier, but it was unintentional, and he wasn’t quite sure of it then, but now…now he was sure. He was in love with her. Every part. He wanted to share every day, every night, every moment with her. 

“You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied without thinking. He watched as a faint blush dusted Y/N’s cheeks and his heart stuttered in his chest. How could he ever doubt how he felt for her? “What did you smell in the Amortentia?” Sebastian asked, a sudden surge of confidence hitting him.

“Sebastian,” Y/N sighed heavily, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Y/N turned to look at him, a pleading look on her face. She was tired, so tired, at having to pretend she wasn’t irrevocably head over heels for the man next to her. She feared if he asked her any more questions he would see straight through her, and then their friendship would be ruined and he would want nothing more to do with her. No, the logical part of her brain replied, Sebastian is too nice for that. Instead he would let her down gently, with the soft tone one would reserve for an injured animal or a sick child.

“I could smell you,” he blurted out. Y/N blinked once, not quite sure she had heard him properly, before looking over at him slowly. “Your perfume, to be more specific. And the smell of rain, from the night we danced out in it. Also those strawberry tarts you love to eat at breakfast.” He stood from his seat before sinking to his feet so he could kneel in front of her on the stone floor. “All I could smell was you.”

“Sebastian…”

“What did you smell?” he asked her again, a hint of desperation in his eyes. She thought there was nothing more between them but friendship, that he could never look at her the way she wanted him t, but the look in his eyes right now…Merlin, how could she ever think that? Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down at him and watched as his hands came to rest on her knees gently. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material of her trousers and all she could think of was more. She wanted more. “Darling? I’m putting my heart on the line here.”

“It was you,” she whispered after a moment, afraid to say it much louder. “You, when we danced in the rain. You, when you showed me the clearing full of wildflowers. Just…you. It was all you, Sebastian.” She met his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s always been you, I just didn’t realise it until lately.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he teased lightly. He raised his hand to wipe away a stray tear, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” Y/N let out a sound that was between a sob and a chuckle and slid down so she was kneeling on the floor with Sebastian. “I think I was too scared to tell you before, so I pretended like it didn’t exist. These feelings have been bottled up for so long, only to be let out now…” she wiped away her own tears this time and offered him a rueful smile. 

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “it seems we’ve both been a little slow, hm? How could you not see I’m hopelessly head over heels for you?” He rested his forehead on hers, watching with slight satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation and longing. “You have been, and always will be, my one and only.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” Y/N protested weakly. Sebastian chuckled quietly and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, and knew she was deep in thought when she started to chew on her lower lip thoughtfully. 

“Come back to me, what are you thinking?”

“It’s highly improper.”

“My favourite,” he smiled crookedly and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Tell me.” Instead,  after a brief moment of hesitation, Y/N closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his gently. She pulled away all too soon for Sebastian’s liking, her eyes darting across his face for any reaction he disapproved of - or worst, didn’t enjoy - their chaste kiss. He pulled her back in slowly, giving her more than enough time to pull away should she choose to do so, and pressed his lips back to her sweetly. 

From the other end of the Common Room, Imelda watched quietly as the couple kissed each other with stomach-churning sweetness, and as she turned to leave she made a mental note to boast to Poppy first thing in the morning that she was right yet again. 

[magical-reid]

Through the Frost

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader (Implied Slytherin!Reader)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1 K

Prompt #36: "Take my jacket, I don't want you catching a cold."

Summary: In the biting cold of the Scottish Highlands, you and Sebastian venture into the Forbidden Forest to collect Fanged Geraniums for a Herbology project, braving both the elements and an Acromantula encounter. Amid the adventure, Sebastian’s protective gestures and the warmth of his jacket lead to a tender moment between the two of you, culminating in a soft, unexpected kiss that changes everything.

The chill of the Scottish Highlands was biting, even in late autumn. You clutched your scarf tighter around your neck, your breath visible in the crisp air as you and Sebastian trudged through the Forbidden Forest. The trees around you creaked in the wind, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky like ancient hands.

“Remind me again why we’re out here when it’s practically freezing?” you asked, casting a wary glance at the darkening woods.

Sebastian shot you his signature grin, his amber eyes glinting with mischief. “Because you’re too stubborn to admit you’d need my help with your Herbology project. Or was it the lure of adventure you couldn’t resist?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond. The truth was a mix of both—there was no denying Sebastian’s knack for getting himself into trouble, and you’d rather tag along than let him wander off into danger alone.

As you pressed on, the temperature dropped even further. The wind howled, and the light snowfall turned into a steady flurry. Your hands were practically numb despite the thick gloves, and you could feel the cold seeping into your bones.

Sebastian must have noticed, because he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to you. Without a word, he shrugged off his dark, woolen jacket, the Slytherin-green lining standing out against the monochrome backdrop of snow.

“Take my jacket,” he said, holding it out to you. His tone was firm, but there was a softness in his gaze. “I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Your first instinct was to protest. “Sebastian, you’ll freeze—”

“Don’t argue with me,” he interrupted, stepping closer and draping the jacket over your shoulders before you could refuse. His hands lingered for a moment, adjusting it so it fit snugly. “You’re shivering. And don’t try to act like you’re not.”

The warmth of his jacket, faintly carrying the scent of pine and something unmistakably him, was a stark contrast to the icy wind whipping around you. You pulled it tighter, feeling an unexpected flush of heat creep into your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Sebastian gave a nonchalant shrug, though the faint smirk tugging at his lips suggested he’d noticed your reaction. “What kind of dueling partner would I be if I let you turn into an icicle? Besides, I’ll survive. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, the corners of your lips curving into a smile despite the cold.

The two of you continued walking, his jacket keeping you warm and his presence comforting in the eerie quiet of the forest. Somewhere in the distance, a branch snapped, and Sebastian instinctively stepped in front of you, his wand at the ready.

It was in these moments that you were reminded of the duality of Sebastian Sallow—the charming troublemaker who always had a clever retort, and the fiercely protective friend who would do anything to keep you safe.

“Next time, though,” he said after a beat, his voice lightening again, “maybe we should pick a less hazardous way to spend our evening. Like raiding the kitchens for pumpkin pasties.”

“Only if you don’t get us caught this time,” you replied with a laugh.

“Deal,” he said, his grin returning as he looked over his shoulder at you. “Now come on. Let’s find your stupid Fanged Geranium before we both freeze to death.”

And with that, the two of you pressed deeper into the forest, the snow falling gently around you. The jacket, and the boy who had offered it, warmed you more than you cared to admit.

The Forbidden Forest grew darker as the two of you ventured further in, the snow now a thick blanket underfoot. Each step crunched loudly, the sound eerily amplified in the silence of the forest. Though the jacket Sebastian had given you kept the chill at bay, you couldn’t shake the creeping unease of the woods.

“Are you sure the Fanged Geraniums grow this deep?” you asked, glancing at the looming shadows cast by the skeletal trees.

Sebastian hesitated, his wand tip glowing faintly in the gloom. “Pretty sure.”

“Pretty sure,” you repeated flatly.

He shot you a sheepish smile. “Well, I heard Garlick mention it during class. Something about preferring the deeper, more secluded areas of the forest. Don’t worry. We’ll find it.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow but kept walking. Sebastian’s confidence had a way of pulling you along, even when logic told you it might be a terrible idea.

A sudden rustle in the underbrush had both of you freezing in place. Your heart leapt into your throat as you instinctively gripped your wand, pointing it toward the noise.

“Did you hear that?” you whispered.

Sebastian moved closer, positioning himself slightly in front of you again. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes darted around the shadows. “Stay close,” he murmured.

The rustling grew louder, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness. Your breath hitched as a hulking Acromantula crawled into view, its mandibles clicking ominously.

Sebastian reacted immediately, raising his wand. “Confringo!”

The explosion of fire startled the spider, sending it skittering backward, but it wasn’t deterred for long. It lunged, and you barely had time to shout a spell of your own.

“Stupefy!”

The jet of red light struck its leg, slowing it but not stopping it. Sebastian grabbed your arm, pulling you behind a tree as the Acromantula recovered and began to advance again.

“Got any brilliant ideas, or should we start running?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly.

Sebastian’s smirk, even under the pressure, was maddeningly confident. “Running’s an option. But I’d hate to let it think it could beat us.”

“Of course you would,” you muttered.

He peeked out from behind the tree, his wand at the ready. “On my signal, aim for its eyes. Ready?”

You nodded, gripping your wand tightly. “Ready.”

“Now!”

The two of you burst out from cover, shouting spells in unison.

“Incendio!”

“Confringo!”

The combined spells hit their mark, engulfing the Acromantula in flames. It let out a high-pitched screech, retreating into the shadows as smoke curled around its massive frame.

Sebastian watched it disappear, his wand still raised. When the forest finally fell silent again, he exhaled and turned to you, his grin returning. “See? No problem.”

You glared at him, your heart still racing. “No problem? That thing could have eaten us!”

“But it didn’t,” he pointed out, his tone annoyingly casual. He reached out and gently tugged his jacket tighter around your shoulders. “Thanks to me, you’re still here to complain about it.”

You huffed, though the warmth of his touch and his playful smirk made it hard to stay annoyed. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you keep following me into danger.”

Before you could retort, a faint glow caught your eye. Just a few feet away, nestled among a patch of frost-covered ferns, was a cluster of Fanged Geraniums. Their serrated leaves snapped at the air, illuminated by the soft luminescence of their buds.

“There they are,” you said, pointing.

Sebastian followed your gaze and let out a triumphant laugh. “Told you we’d find them.”

He crouched beside the plants, careful to avoid their snapping leaves, and began to harvest a few blooms. You knelt beside him, your earlier frustration fading as the two of you worked together.

As you stood up, cradling the blooms in your gloved hands, Sebastian brushed the snow off his knees and turned to you with a smile. “See? Adventure, teamwork, and no serious injuries. I’d say tonight’s a success.”

“Speak for yourself,” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll probably be having nightmares about Acromantulas for a week.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Then I’ll sit with you in the Common Room until you fall asleep. You know, for moral support.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re welcome,” he said with a wink, falling into step beside you as the two of you made your way back toward Hogwarts.

By the time you and Sebastian emerged from the Forbidden Forest, the snow was falling thickly, transforming the grounds into a glistening winter wonderland. Hogwarts loomed in the distance, its windows glowing with warm light, promising refuge from the biting cold.

The trek back to the castle was quieter, your steps synchronized as you trudged up the hill. Sebastian’s jacket still hung around your shoulders, its warmth and his faint scent grounding you in the aftermath of your encounter with the Acromantula.

“Not bad for an evening’s work,” Sebastian said as you approached the castle doors, cradling the bundle of Fanged Geraniums you’d managed to collect. “And not a single detention. That’s got to be a record.”

“Yet,” you corrected, raising a brow. “We’re not in the clear until Professor Weasley sees us sneaking in.”

He chuckled, holding the heavy door open for you. The rush of warm air from the Entrance Hall was a welcome relief. You stepped inside, snowflakes melting instantly in the castle’s glow.

The walk back to the Slytherin Common Room was uneventful, the quiet halls amplifying the soft crackle of distant fireplaces and the murmur of students preparing for bed. When you finally reached the Common Room, the emerald flames in the hearth illuminated the green and silver decor, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls.

Sebastian flopped onto one of the plush armchairs, his usual swagger returning as he stretched out lazily. “If that’s not the most heroic flower-picking mission anyone’s ever attempted, I don’t know what is.”

“Heroic?” you echoed, placing the bundle of Geraniums on a nearby table. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here we are,” he quipped, motioning to the jacket still draped around you. “Cozy in my jacket, enjoying my company.”

You gave him a pointed look, but the corners of your lips twitched into a smile. You slid the jacket off and held it out to him. “Thank you, by the way. For this. And for everything else tonight.”

Sebastian didn’t take the jacket right away. Instead, he stood and stepped closer, his usual smirk softening into something quieter, more sincere. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his voice low. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Your breath caught, the playful banter fading into an unfamiliar tension. He was close now, his amber eyes locking onto yours, and for once, he didn’t seem to have another clever remark ready.

“You’ve got snow in your hair,” he murmured, reaching up to brush a stray flake from your temple. His fingers lingered a moment too long, warm against your skin.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words never came. Instead, you felt yourself leaning in, drawn by the quiet intensity in his gaze.

Sebastian didn’t move away. If anything, he stepped closer, his hand falling to your shoulder as his other fingers lightly tilted your chin. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the warmth of the Common Room forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“You’re staring,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smiled softly, his usual confidence tempered by something gentler. “Can you blame me?”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both tentative and full of unspoken feelings. It was soft and slow, a moment stolen from the chaos of your usual adventures.

When he finally pulled back, his hand still resting lightly on your shoulder, his smirk returned—but it was softer now, almost shy.

“Well,” he said, his voice a touch unsteady, “that was… unexpected.”

“Was it?” you asked, your own smile breaking through.

Sebastian chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Maybe not entirely. I’ve been meaning to do that for a while now.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed how much the admission meant to you. “Took you long enough.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he teased, reaching out to take his jacket from your hands. But before you could let it go, he slipped it back around your shoulders.

“Keep it for the night,” he said, his grin returning. “I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t argue. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice softer now. As you turned to head to your dormitory, you felt his gaze lingering, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

It had been a night full of danger, snow, and sharp-toothed flowers, but as you curled up under your blankets with his jacket still draped over you, all you could think about was the warmth of his touch and the way his kiss had chased away the cold.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 12

 ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter →

Words: ~7,800

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance

You paced in the dimly lit corridor just outside the secret entrance to the Undercroft, phone pressed to your ear as Imelda’s skeptical voice crackled faintly on the other end.

“Why,” she asked, drawing out the word like it physically pained her, “do you need the password?"

“It’s for a prank,” you said, keeping your tone light and breezy despite the heat creeping up your neck.

“A prank,” Imelda repeated flatly, her skepticism bleeding through every syllable.

“Imelda, come on,” you said, your tone walking the precarious line between coaxing and pleading. “It’s just a harmless favor. I promise it’s nothing that’ll get you in trouble.”

“You? Sneaking around the castle after curfew? Harmless? Very doubtful,” Imelda’s voice crackled over the line, dripping with skepticism.

You winced, shooting Sebastian a helpless look. He smirked, gesturing for you to keep going, while Ominis rolled his eyes and muttered “This is ridiculous" under his breath.

Sebastian grinned, nudging him with an elbow, murmuring. “Shush. Let her work her magic.”

You shot Sebastian a sharp look before turning your focus back to the phone. “Look, Imelda, you trust me, don’t you?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, punctuated by a faint rustling, as if Imelda were debating whether to hang up entirely.

“Depends on the day,” she finally replied. “And the company you’re keeping. Is that Sebastian I hear laughing?”

Sebastian’s grin widened, and he leaned closer. “Hey, Reyes!”

You glared at him, mouthing stop it! as Imelda groaned audibly through the phone.

“Merlin’s beard,” she muttered.

“Look, Imelda, you’re my best friend," you pleaded, shooting Sebastian another warning look before lowering your voice to something softer. "Do this one thing for me, and I’ll owe you. Big time.”

There was a pause.

“Big time?” she repeated, her tone skeptical but curious.

“Massive,” you confirmed quickly. “Name it, and I’ll make it happen.”

A heavy sigh came through the speaker. “Alright,” Imelda said reluctantly, “but if you get caught, I’m denying everything. And I mean everything.”

“Understood,” you said, relief washing over you. “So, what’s the password?”

Another pause, then: “Coffee Bean Paste.”

You repeated it under your breath to commit it to memory before flashing Sebastian a triumphant look. “You’re the best, Imelda. I love you.”

Imelda let out an exaggerated groan on the other end. “Don’t push it,” she warned, though you could hear the faintest hint of amusement creeping into her voice. “And seriously, Chouette, if this comes back to me—”

“It won’t,” you interrupted quickly, eager to reassure her. “I swear, your name won’t even come up.”

“Fine,” she said, her tone resigned. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.” With that, the call disconnected.

You lowered your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you turned to face Sebastian and Ominis. Sebastian pushed off the wall, his grin wide and smug, while Ominis remained rooted in place, arms crossed and brow furrowed in disapproval.

“Well?” Sebastian asked, his tone brimming with anticipation.

“We’re in,” you said, a triumphant smirk tugging at your lips. "Coffee Bean Paste."

Sebastian hummed with satisfaction, his grin growing even wider. “See, Ominis? Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing except the two of you getting caught and dragging me down with you,” Ominis replied sharply, though the weariness in his tone suggested he’d already resigned himself to his role in this escapade.

“Come on,” Sebastian said, slinging an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “You’re not technically sneaking in, so your record will be perfectly safe”

Ominis gave Sebastian a withering look, stepping out from under his arm. “I shouldn’t even be entertaining this, but if I don’t help, you’ll both end up in detention—or worse.”

“See?” Sebastian said, turning to you with an easy grin. “He’s on board.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ominis muttered, but his words fell on deaf ears as Sebastian motioned for you to follow him toward the stairs.

“Alright, here’s how this is going to work,” Sebastian began, glancing back at you and Ominis. “Moon has a pattern—he’ll be sweeping the main hallways and the Astronomy Tower about now, so we'll have lots of time if we're quick. Ominis, you’re on lookout near the staircase. Chouette and I will handle the rest.”

“Handle the rest,” Ominis repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sounds foolproof.”

Sebastian ignored him, flashing you a quick grin instead. “We’ll be in and out. Five minutes tops. Grab the picture, send Amelia Rosier into a spiral of existential doubt, and celebrate with chocolate frogs. Simple.”

You nodded, though your thoughts drifted as you followed him up the winding stairs.

This wasn’t something you would have ever done at Beauxbatons.

Back there, everything had been pristine, orderly, and steeped in an air of careful decorum. Your days had been filled with structured schedules, whispered gossip over delicate pastries, and spells cast with the flourish of perfectly manicured hands. Mischief was limited to harmless tricks during study breaks or sneaking out to the gardens after curfew—nothing even remotely as daring as this.

But here? Chaos seemed to be part of the curriculum. From enchanted staircases that changed on a whim to students plotting escapades like this, it was an entirely different world.

You had been warned about it, of course. The Hogwarts reputation preceded itself, whispered in hallways and during shared events between schools. “Ce sont des indisciplinés," one of your professors had sniffed when the transfer was announced. “Plus préoccupés par l’espièglerie que par le raffinement.”

You hadn’t believed it at the time, but now, with Sebastian leading you toward a fifth-floor bathroom for a ridiculous prank, you couldn’t deny it. This was the chaos everyone had talked about—and you loved it.

“You alright back there, Chouette?” Sebastian’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to find him watching you, a curious tilt to his head.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Just… thinking.”

“About how brilliant this plan is?” he teased, flashing you a grin.

“About how I never would have done something like this at Beauxbatons,” you admitted, your voice tinged with amusement.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his grin softening into something more genuine. “A little adventure never hurt anyone.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ominis muttered from behind, earning a quiet laugh from both of you.

The three of you reached the fifth floor, and Sebastian slowed, motioning for silence. Once you were close enough, he gestured for Ominis to stop and take position near the staircase.

“Alright, this is where we split up,” Sebastian whispered, his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Ominis, you’re on lookout.”

Ominis nodded begrudgingly, his frown deepening. "And your alibi? If anyone wonders where the hell you two are?"

Sebastian’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Easy,” he said, leaning casually against the statue of Boris the Bewildered. “We were helping you. Poor, helpless Ominis, lost in the castle corridors again.”

Ominis’ frown deepened, his grip tightening on his wand. “That’s your plan? Using my blindness as an excuse for your idiocy?”

Sebastian shrugged, unbothered. “It’s not idiocy—it’s brilliance. And besides, who’s going to argue with a perfectly plausible story?”

“Everyone with half a brain,” Ominis shot back, his voice dry. “Merlin help me, I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

You bit back a laugh, stepping closer to Ominis and offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” you said softly. “If it comes to that, we’ll come up with something better. But it won’t, because we’re not going to get caught.”

Ominis sighed, shaking his head. “Famous last words.”

Sebastian clapped him on the shoulder. "Be back in a few."

Ominis muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like idiots, but he nodded nonetheless, stepping back to take his position near the staircase.

Sebastian turned to you, his grin returning in full force. “Ready, Chouette?”

Your heart raced as you glanced at the closed door behind the statue, the faint hum of anticipation buzzing in your chest. “Let’s do this."

With a nod, Sebastian drew his wand and gave it a sharp flick, casting a disillusionment charm over himself. The shimmering ripple of magic distorted his outline for a moment before he blended into the surroundings. You quickly followed suit, your own charm wrapping you in the same protective cloak.

“Quiet steps,” Sebastian whispered, his voice just barely audible over the stillness. “And stick close.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it, and fell into step behind him as the two of you moved down the corridor. The hall was bathed in soft light from the sconces, and every sound seemed amplified in the quiet. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you crept forward, your shoes barely skimming the floor.

Suddenly, the faint echo of footsteps reached your ears, and you froze, your breath catching. Sebastian stopped too. The sound grew louder, and the two of you quickly ducked behind a pair of large stone planters that lined the hallway. You crouched low, your disillusioned form blending into the shadows.

A familiar voice drifted toward you, warm and even. “Good evening, Ominis. Out for a stroll?”

Your stomach dropped. Professor Fig.

Sebastian tensed beside you, and you could practically feel the smirk that was surely forming on his lips.

“Well,” Ominis replied, his tone steady despite the faint tension that tightened his words, “it’s hard to stroll when you’re navigating Hogwarts, Professor. The stairs weren’t particularly cooperative tonight.”

Professor Fig chuckled softly. “They do have a mind of their own. You should’ve let me know. I’d have been happy to assist.”

“No need, sir,” Ominis said smoothly. “I’ve managed just fine. Though I’m afraid I’ve lost track of the time. Near curfew isn't it? I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” Fig replied, his voice kind. “I was just on my way back to my chambers. Planning for tomorrow’s lesson. You know how it is.”

“Of course,” Ominis said, nodding. “A professor’s work is never done.”

The casual, easy flow of their conversation helped settle your nerves, though you remained crouched low, your heart pounding as you strained to hear every word. Beside you, Sebastian shifted slightly, leaning closer to the edge of the planter to catch a better angle.

Fig’s voice grew slightly quieter as he continued. “You know, Ominis, you’ve always impressed me with how well you handle yourself around the castle. Not even sighted students navigate so confidently.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Ominis replied smoothly. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

The voices paused a moment, and you held your breath, your grip tightening on your wand until Fig’s voice came again. “Well, don’t let me keep you. If you need anything, my door’s always open.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ominis said, his tone unwavering.

The footsteps resumed, growing fainter as Fig walked away. You let out a slow breath, relief flooding you as the tension began to ease. Beside you, Sebastian let out a quiet chuckle, barely audible.

“Smooth as ever,” he whispered, his voice brimming with admiration for Ominis.

From his spot near the staircase, Ominis turned his head slightly, his voice low and sharp. “Get moving, you idiots. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

Sebastian grinned, even though you couldn’t see it, and motioned for you to follow as he crept forward, the statue of Boris the Bewildered now only a few steps away. The faint thrill of danger buzzed in your chest, and as you reached the door, Sebastian glanced back, his voice a low murmur. “Ready for round two?”

You nodded, your grip steady on your wand. “Let’s go.”

Sebastian whispered the password, “Coffee Bean Paste."

The stone door shifted with a low groan, revealing the Prefects’ Bathroom. Warm, humid air wafted toward you, carrying the faint scent of lavender and mint.

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, his grin barely visible against the distortion of his disillusionment charm. “After you."

Rolling your eyes, you stepped inside, the shimmering charm around you fading as you crossed the threshold. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of breathtaking.

The floor was a pristine expanse of white marble, gleaming under the flickering candlelight. In the center of the room was the largest bathtub you had ever seen—more of a pool, really—its surface rippling with sparkling water and mountains of foamy bubbles. Each tap was ornately designed, spouting streams of vivid liquid in every hue, filling the air with gentle splashes and a soft, melodic hum.

“Wow,” you breathed, stepping further inside.

Sebastian let out a low whistle as he followed behind you, his charm fading as the door slid shut with a faint thud. “They really went all out, didn’t they?”

“This is… ridiculous,” you agreed, your eyes sweeping across the room.

“Ridiculously brilliant,” Sebastian corrected, already walking toward the edge of the massive tub. He crouched down, dipping a hand into the water and swirling it. “Warm,” he announced, his tone filled with delight. “And it smells like…” He sniffed the air. “Chamomile?”

"Imagine that," you hummed absently, your fingers brushing over a neatly folded stack of fluffy white towels. They were impossibly soft, like clouds spun into fabric, and embroidered with the Hogwarts crest in gleaming gold thread.

"Ready for that picture?" Sebastian's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to the moment. You turned to see him standing in front of the massive tub, his phone in hand, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Right," you said, clearing your throat and stepping closer. "The picture. In and out, before Ominis has a conniption."

Sebastian grinned, holding the phone up and motioning for you to come closer. “Alright, come on then, Chouette. Let’s make it a good one.”

You hesitated, your feet rooted to the marble floor as a flicker of unease crept up your spine. It wasn’t the room, nor the fact you were breaking school rules—it was the sudden awareness of having to stand so close to Sebastian.

The only other time you’d been this close to him was when he'd cradled you on the Quidditch pitch, but that had been different. You’d been injured. This, however, was voluntary. Deliberate.

And the other problem, the one that made your hands twitch nervously at your sides, was the photo itself.

Selfies weren’t your thing. You never took them, not if you could help it. Every angle, every filter—it never seemed to matter. The result was always the same: a version of yourself you weren’t happy with.

But this wasn’t about you, you reminded yourself. It was about sending a message, a little payback for Amelia’s meddling. That thought steeled your resolve, and you stepped closer, your face carefully neutral as you nodded to Sebastian. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

He grinned wider, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he adjusted his phone. “You’re acting like this is torture,” he teased.

You opened your mouth to retort, but the words died in your throat when he slid an arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer, his scent enveloping you, sending your pulse into a staccato rhythm. You turned your head slightly, caught off guard by how close his face was to yours.

His grin softened into something quieter. “There,” he said lightly. “You fit perfectly.”

“Fit?” you echoed.

“Mmhm,” he murmured, not looking away from the screen. “Now smile.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment, your nerves buzzing under your skin, but you forced a small, tentative smile onto your face.

Sebastian snapped the photo, glancing down at the screen with a satisfied smirk. “Not bad,” he said, holding the phone out to you.

You took it hesitantly, glancing at the screen while the photo started back.

“Well?” he prompted, his arm still resting lightly on your shoulders.

"It'll work."

Sebastian tilted his head, his grin widening at your less-than-enthusiastic tone. "Just work?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, glancing at the photo again. It was a good picture—the vibrant light from the enchanted taps shimmered in the background, casting soft, colorful hues over the room. And Sebastian… well, he looked as effortlessly charming as ever, his grin confident and his posture relaxed.

“I suppose it’s not terrible,” you said reluctantly, handing the phone back to him.

“Not terrible?” he repeated incredulously.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, shaking your head as you stepped out from under his arm. “Alright, ego. Let’s not get carried away.”

Sebastian chuckled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Fine, fine. We’ve got our evidence. Mission accomplished.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice firm but your lips twitching with a small smile. “Now let’s get out of here before—”

“Before what?” he interrupted, his smirk taking on a mischievous edge.

You froze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked, feigning innocence as he wandered closer to the edge of the tub.

“Sebastian,” you warned.

He crouched beside one of the taps, twisting it experimentally. A stream of water cascaded into the pool, the scent chamomile wafting into the air. He let out an appreciative whistle, looking over his shoulder at you. “This is incredible. How do the prefects not spend all their time here?”

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of authority despite the growing amusement in your chest. “Because they don't want someone else walking in on them naked?"

Sebastian waved a dismissive hand, his grin widening. “Relax, Chouette. No one’s walking in. Ominis is out there making sure of it.”

You glanced toward the door, nerves buzzing under your skin. “We agreed—picture and out.”

“And we’ve got the picture,” Sebastian said easily, standing and turning to face you fully. “But come on. We’re already here. What’s the harm in taking a moment to enjoy it?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse hammering as Sebastian’s words sank in. Enjoy it?

He stood by the taps, his posture deceptively casual, hands resting in his pockets as though he hadn’t a care in the world. His head was tilted slightly, watching the swirling colors in the water.

“And how, exactly," You started, swallowing hard. "Do you propose we enjoy this, Sebastian?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking between the swirling water and back to you. It was then, beneath the lazy nonchalance of his posture, that you noticed it—the faintest flicker of nerves in his dark eyes, the subtle tension in his jaw.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “it’s a bath, Chouette. You’re supposed to get in.”

Your mouth opened, but no retort came, the weight of his words landing with an almost audible thud. Surely, he wasn’t serious. He couldn’t be serious.

“You’re joking,” you managed.

“Am I?” he countered.

Your pulse quickened, your thoughts scrambling for an out—some way to diffuse the tension without making everything worse. “Sebastian, this is—this is absurd. We’re not—I mean, we can’t—”

But your words faltered as he stepped closer, the gap between you closing in an instant. His gaze held yours, steady and unwavering, and the space around you seemed to shrink, suffused with an unbearable heat.

“Can’t what?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your breath catch.

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body alight with the nearness of him. He wasn’t supposed to be this close, wasn’t supposed to look at you like that—like he was daring you to argue, daring you to say no.

“Sebastian, this is ridiculous,” you said, though the words came out softer than you intended.

His head tilted, and the sharp edge of his smirk softened, replaced with something quieter, something almost uncertain. “You’re right,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter now. “It’s ridiculous.”

For a fleeting moment, you thought he might step back, thought the moment might pass with only awkward tension lingering in its wake. But then his hand moved, slow and deliberate, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

Your breath hitched as he pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, the fabric ruffling his already mussed hair before he tossed it carelessly onto the marble floor. And your gaze betrayed you, flicking downward despite every ounce of willpower urging you to look elsewhere. And there it was—the answer to the question that had been gnawing at your mind earlier that day: how far down did those freckles go?

Far enough, apparently.

The low, flickering light danced across his skin, casting warm golds and deep shadows that seemed to map out every detail. Your eyes followed the erratic trail of freckles scattered across his chest, each one daring you to look closer, to trace their path downward. Against your better judgment, you followed them, your gaze skimming over the expanse of his abdomen and the faint line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers.

He wasn’t chiseled—not in the way the glossy covers of Witch Weekly might glamorize—but there was an undeniable strength in him. The kind born of long hours on a broomstick and reckless dives on the Quidditch pitch. His muscles were firm but not overwhelming, softened slightly by what you could only imagine were too many late-night snacks and Chocolate Frogs.

Your eyes flicked upward again, tracing the broad set of his shoulders and the cut of his collarbone. His arms, exposed now, spoke of strength; the kind built from years of slamming Bludgers and an inclination to be recklessly heroic. There was a startling vulnerability in seeing him like this, and you hated yourself for noticing how intimate it felt, standing there, staring like you were memorizing every inch of him.

“Y-you—this is—” you stammered, the words stumbling out before you could catch them.

“...Not what you were expecting?” he asked, his voice quiet and tinged with something soft.

“No!” you blurted, too quickly. “I mean, yes—I mean—”

The quiet chuckle of satisfaction that escaped him sent a shiver racing down your spine. “Well, Chouette?” he murmured, his hand moving to the button of his trousers. The faint click of the fastener made your breath hitch. “Are you in, or are you out?”

His words hung in the air, deceptively simple but laden with challenge, daring you to make a choice.

In truth, you had never undressed in front of a man before—not once. Not even close. And if you’d ever dared to think about it, it never happened in a luxurious, gilded bathroom under the flickering glow of enchanted taps. And it certainly wasn’t supposed to involve the stubborn, aggravating, insufferably smug Sebastian Sallow, who had spent the better part of your shared acquaintance making your blood boil.

In your mind, there at least would’ve been a bed.

But here you were.

Your eyes darted to his hands as they worked the trousers down his hips. He stepped out of them, unhurried and completely unaware of how tightly wound you were. Left in just his briefs, his bare feet planted on the marble, he tilted his head to meet your eyes, and for a moment, all you could do was stare.

Because fuck he looked good. Far, far too good..

He stepped closer to the edge of the tub, his dark eyes flicking to the water and then back to you. “Well?” he prompted. "What's it gonna be?"

Your mind raced, caught between logic and reckless abandon. The reasonable part of you screamed to stop this madness, to make some excuse and walk out the door with your dignity intact. But the impulsive part of you wanted this. Wanted to follow him. Wanted to see where this would go.

You swallowed hard, your hands twitching nervously at your sides. Sebastian was already stepping into the tub, the warm water lapping at his calves as he lowered himself with a sigh.

And the reckless part of you won.

“Turn around,” you blurted.

Sebastian blinked. "But you're just going to get in—"

“I know,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not…” You trailed off, heat crawling up your neck as you struggled to find the words. “Just turn around, alright?”

“Alright, alright,” Sebastian sighed, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he turned his back to you. His broad shoulders cut through the swirling steam, the damp curls at the nape of his neck clinging stubbornly to his skin. “I’m not looking. Promise.”

You stared at his freckled back, still grappling with the absurdity of the situation.

Here you were, standing in one of the most exclusive spots in Hogwarts, preparing to strip down in front of the boy who had been, until recently, your most consistent source of irritation. A boy who, despite all your attempts to shove him out of your mind, had somehow managed to worm his way under your skin and stay there.

But this wasn’t some romantic fairy tale, and you weren’t the kind of girl who fit neatly into the narrative of a moment like this—least of all with someone like him. You weren’t the girl boys whispered about in corridors, the one they scribbled secret notes about in the margins of their textbooks. And that truth clung to you like a second skin.

Your hands twitched at your sides, your gaze dropping to your reflection in the slick marble floor. The shape of your body, still hidden beneath layers of fabric, loomed heavy in your mind. Curvy, soft, with thighs that brushed and hips that flared wide. Your waist wasn’t sharp or narrow, your chest more of a challenge than an asset when it came to robes and fitted blouses. And Merlin, wasn’t it just your luck that Sebastian seemed to have a penchant for girls who looked like they might float away in a strong breeze?

You weren’t them. You’d never be them.

And yet, you thought, taking a shaky breath, here I am.

Your fingers hovered at the hem of your shirt, the fabric clinging to your grip as if sensing your hesitation. The chorus of insecurities in your head grew louder, urging you to stop, to turn around, to walk away before you made a fool of yourself.

But then, your gaze drifted back to him. The way he stood there, his posture relaxed and unhurried, no trace of impatience in the line of his shoulders. His head tilted slightly as he waited, his silhouette softened by the steam. There was no mockery, no teasing. Just quiet, easy patience.

Somehow, that gave you the courage to move.

With trembling fingers, you tugged your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor with a soft rustle. The humid air kissed your bare skin, warm and comforting, but your chest tightened all the same. Your skirt was next, slipping over your hips and pooling at your feet as you stepped out of it carefully. Shoes and socks followed, and you stood there for a moment, rooted to the spot as you caught sight of your reflection again. Every curve, every dip, every mark laid bare in the polished floor.

And then, as if sensing the weight of your thoughts, Sebastian spoke. “You doing alright back there?” His voice was low, quiet, devoid of its usual sharp-edged humor.

You swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. “Yeah,” you managed, your voice softer than you expected. “I’m fine.”

With a deep breath, you stepped toward the edge of the tub, the steam rising to wrap around you. The water greeted you like an old friend, warm and gentle as you slid in, the tension in your muscles easing with every passing second.

Sebastian shifted slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “Can I—?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, your arms instinctively crossing over your chest as you sank a little deeper into the water.

He turned fully, his dark eyes meeting yours across the shimmering surface. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft and unreadable. And then he smiled—gentle, without a hint of mockery. “See? Not so bad.”

“Not so bad,” you echoed, though your body still felt rigid, every nerve in your body on edge.

Sebastian's his gaze lingered on you for a moment before he leaned back against the wall of the tub, resting his arms along the tile edge. "So," he said lightly. "what was the first album you ever bought?"

You blinked. "What?"

"First album," he repeated, his tone casual but his dark eyes glinting with curiosity. "You know, the first one you saved up for, or begged someone to buy for you. Everyone’s got one."

You hesitated, the question momentarily distracting you from your nerves. “I think it was… The Black Parade,” you admitted. “I was, like, eleven. And I thought I was so edgy for listening to it.”

Sebastian’s grin widened, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Classic choice. Let me guess—there was a phase where you were convinced you’d start a band?”

You laughed softly. “I did. But I didn't have any musical friends to form the band with, so that dream died pretty quickly.”

Sebastian chuckled. “You should’ve seen me. I begged my parents for a guitar after I heard Arctic Monkeys for the first time. Spent weeks plucking at it, trying to learn Suck It And See until my sister begged me to stop.”

That surprised you. “You can play?”

“Barely,” he admitted, his grin turning sheepish. “But I tried. For like… three months. Then I got distracted by Quidditch and never picked it up again." He paused for a moment, considering you before asking, “What about your first concert?”

You smiled faintly, the memory sparking a warm flicker of nostalgia. “Paramore,” you said, watching as recognition lit up his expression. “It was incredible. But I was terrified the whole time—I was so sure someone in the pit was going to knock me over.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Ah, the pit. A rite of passage for every true fan. If you’re not worried about getting trampled, are you even at a proper concert?”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “What about you?” you asked, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “What was your first?”

Sebastian paused, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully before a grin tugged at his lips. “The 1975,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice. “I had to practically beg my uncle to let me go. He didn’t really get it, and we had to go to Gringotts to exchange Galleons for Muggle money.” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “It was a disaster. He made a scene because he couldn’t figure out the conversion rate and kept insisting the goblins were trying to swindle him.”

You snorted, trying to picture a younger Sebastian enduring that particular ordeal. “Merlin, that sounds mortifying.”

“Oh, it was,” he agreed, his grin widening. “But worth it. They played Sex, and I swear, I ascended. I mean, it’s The 1975.”

“Of course you did,” you teased, the familiar banter easing the tension that had been weighing on your shoulders. “Tumblr girl energy in full force.”

Sebastian leaned back, his grin widening as he launched into another story. “Alright, this one’s a classic,” he began, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Third year, I found this ancient Muggle gramophone in a junk shop in Hogsmeade. It was completely wrecked—dusty, scratched, the works—but I thought, I can fix this. No problem.”

You raised an eyebrow, already skeptical. “Fix it? Or enchant it into some kind of unholy artifact?”

“I’ll have you know, I intended to make it better,” he insisted. “Charmed it so it would play music without needing vinyls. For about an hour, it worked like a dream. Muggle music in the common room? Instant legend.”

“Oh, so you were the main character of your own imaginary movie, were you?" You laughed, picturing third-year Sebastian in your mind. "I bet you were staring out the window dramatically, The Smiths playing in the background.”

Sebastian’s grin widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Hell yes, I was. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out was like, my anthem back then."

"Naturally," You smirked. "But this wouldn't be a story if that's all there was to it. I'm assuming your stellar success didn't last very long?"

“Oh, it lasted,” Sebastian laughed. “That’s the problem—it lasted too much. No one could figure out how to make it stop. Not me, not Ominis, not even the bloody prefects. For three weeks straight, it played Do I Wanna Know every time someone walked within ten feet of it.”

You barked a laugh, the mental image of a bewitched gramophone tormenting the entire Slytherin common room with relentless indie rock too much to handle. “Three weeks? How did no one smash it?”

“Because I might’ve also charmed it to be indestructible,” Sebastian admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “In hindsight, not my best idea.”

You wheezed. “Oh my God. So what finally happened?”

“Professor Weasley came down to the common room after someone snuck her an anonymous note,” he said, rolling his eyes. “She undid the charm in about five seconds and confiscated the gramophone. Gave me three evenings of scrubbing cauldrons.”

“But she kept the gramophone,” you guessed, still grinning.

“Oh, absolutely. Word is, it’s still in her office.”

The laughter between you lingered, warm and easy. “And Ominis,” he continued, his grin widening, “refused to come into the common room for the entire time it was going on. Slept in the bloody Undercroft and kept muttering something about my ‘infernal racket.’ I mean, Do I Wanna Know isn’t even close to the worst Arctic Monkeys track!"

You smirked, shaking your head as you imagined Ominis, perpetually unimpressed, glaring in the direction of the offending gramophone.

“I can’t believe he’s still friends with you.”

Sebastian shrugged, his grin softening into something playful. “He’s a glutton for punishment. Besides, I grow on people.”

“Like a fungus,” you quipped, unable to resist.

Sebastian laughed, the sound rich and unguarded, as his damp hair fell into his eyes. He reached up to push it back, the casual motion doing little to tame the unruly strands, and for a moment, you found yourself watching him—not just listening to his words but studying the way his grin lingered, the way his shoulders shook slightly with each laugh, the way he looked so... alive.

It wasn’t until you caught yourself leaning in slightly, captivated by the ease of his movements, that you realized—without quite meaning to—that the space between you had shrunk. The massive tub, which had initially felt so vast and intimidating, now seemed impossibly small. The warm water rippled softly between you, and when you glanced up, you found Sebastian watching you, his expression softer now, the teasing edge replaced with something quieter.

He hesitated, his gaze dipping briefly to the water before meeting yours again. “You know,” he began slowly, his voice carrying a careful, almost hesitant note, “I think this might be the most civil conversation we’ve ever had. At least, aside from you comparing me to fungus.”

The corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself. “That was a perfectly accurate metaphor.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said, his grin widening just a fraction. “But you have to admit, it wasn’t exactly kind.”

"That's rich," you countered, though your tone was more playful than accusatory. “You've spent quite a bit of time trying to drive me up the wall this year.”

“Fair,” he conceded, his dark eyes glinting with something like amusement. “But I’ve improved. Haven’t I?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Debatable.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. There was a pause, the water lapping gently against the marble edges of the tub as the conversation settled.

Then, more quietly, he added, “But seriously. This… feels different.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Different how?”

He hesitated, his gaze dipping briefly to the water before returning to yours. “I don’t know. Like… maybe you don’t hate me as much anymore.”

You felt a faint heat rise to your cheeks, your defenses instinctively kicking in. “I never hated you.”

“Didn’t you?” he asked, his grin softening into something more tentative, almost self-conscious. “Because it kind of felt like you did.”

Your lips pressed together, the heat in your cheeks intensifying as you averted your gaze. “I didn’t hate you.”

His grin widened slightly, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression. “Could’ve fooled me."

You sighed heavily, your gaze dropping to the water as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I wanted to hate you,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible over the soft lapping of the water. “Believe me, I tried.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Even when I wanted to throttle you. Even when you valued my dignity at fifty bloody galleons.”

His entire posture changed in an instant. He straightened, his grin vanishing completely, replaced by an expression of dark regret. ��That’s not—” he began, his voice rough. “That was stupid, and cruel, and—Merlin, I’m sorry. I know I’ve told you before, but I’ll say it a thousand times if I have to. I was an idiot.”

You looked up at him, your heart giving a faint, painful ache at the sincerity etched across his face. His dark eyes, so often alight with mischief, were instead shadowed with guilt. He meant it—you could see that—but the walls you’d built didn’t crumble so easily.

You sighed, stepping back slightly, the warm water swirling softly around you as if trying to draw you forward again.

"Sebastian," you started, your voice quieter than you intended. “Is this… Is that what all of this has been about? Catching me at Quidditch? Defending me to Leander? To Amelia? Going along with this ridiculous idea sneak in here… Is it just to make yourself feel better?”

For a moment, you saw a flicker of hurt cross his face. His brows drew together, his lips parting slightly, but then he shook his head, his expression settling into something more earnest.

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the vulnerability behind it. “No, it’s not about me. It’s because I care about you.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat at his words, but he didn’t stop.

“Of course I’m sorry,” he went on, his voice softer now but no less resolute. “And of course I want to make it up to you. But it’s not because I’m trying to ease my own guilt. It’s because I hate knowing I hurt you. I hate that I made you feel the way you did. I want to make things right, not for me, but for you."

He sighed heavily, the water cascading off his frame as straightened to his full height. Droplets clung to his skin, trailing down his broad shoulders and strong frame, his damp hair still sticking stubbornly to his forehead.

“And I’ve tried,” he continued quietly, his voice tinged with frustration. “Merlin knows I’ve tried to respect your space like you asked, but it’s been… it’s been difficult.” His hand ran through his damp hair, his shoulders sagging slightly as if admitting this had cost him something. “Because every time I see you, I just want to fix it. But I also don't want to push you away even more.”

Your chest tightened, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable. For all the times you’d doubted him, for all the walls you’d put up to keep him at a distance, there was no denying now that Sebastian meant what he was saying. And the guilt began to creep in, slow and heavy, settling like a stone in your stomach.

After all, it had been you who’d asked for the space between you. You’d been the one to draw that line, even though, as of late, you weren’t entirely sure it was what you’d wanted.

The ache in your chest certainly told you otherwise.

You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I…” you started, faltering as the words caught in your throat. Your hands shifted awkwardly under the water, and you forced yourself to continue. “I think—I think I owe you an apology, too.”

He blinked, his brows knitting slightly in confusion. “For what?”

“For what I said in the library a couple of weeks ago,” you admitted, a faint flush creeping up your neck as the memory resurfaced. “About the cheerleaders. About you enjoying all the attention.”

Realization dawned on his face, his lips parting slightly as he remembered the sharp words you’d thrown at him.

“It wasn’t fair,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “It wasn’t fair of me to insist you must feel a certain way about it, especially when you were denying it. I didn’t believe you because I was… I don’t know, frustrated? Jealous?” The admission burned as it left your lips, but it felt good to let it out. "But I shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you, and I’m sorry.”

He was quiet for a moment, his expression softening as he took in your words. Then, to your surprise, a small, almost rueful smile tugged at his lips. “You were jealous?” he asked, his tone lighter now, like he couldn’t quite believe it.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Don’t make me regret this, Sebastian.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and unguarded, and when you peeked through your fingers, you saw him looking at you—not with teasing or triumph, but with something much gentler. “I’m not trying to make you regret it,” he said quietly. “I just… I didn’t think you cared enough to be jealous.”

You dropped your hands, giving him a flat look. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say, and you know it.”

“Is it?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly, his dark eyes searching yours. "I didn't think you cared enough."

You laughed softly, the sound carrying a self-deprecating edge as you shook your head. “Of course I care,” you admitted, your voice quiet but tinged with exasperation—mostly at yourself. “I’m only human. As much as I like to pretend I don’t care about those things, of course it bothers me.”

You hesitated, your gaze dipping to the rippling water as you mulled over your next words. “It felt like confirmation, you know? That I’d never… I’d never be able to compete with girls like them.”

Your voice faltered slightly at the end, and you hated the way it made you feel so exposed, so vulnerable. You forced yourself to look at him again, half expecting some teasing remark or deflection, but Sebastian’s expression was far from amused. His dark eyes softened, though there was a shadow behind them, a flicker of something almost angry.

He didn’t press, though.

Instead, he exhaled softly, his voice low and steady. “Well... for what it’s worth, I forgive you,” he said. “Not that there’s much to forgive—I deserved the cold shoulder anyway.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a faint, humorless smile. “Merlin knows I earned it.”

You watched him for a moment, the vulnerability in his voice mirroring your own. The tension in your chest eased slightly, and before you could overthink it, the words slipped out.

“I forgive you, too."

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, he seemed caught off guard, as though he hadn’t dared to hope for those words. “You… you do?”

You nodded, though your gaze remained fixed on the water. “Yeah. I think I forgave you a while ago. I... I guess I just didn’t realize it until now.”

Sebastian exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible over the soft ripple of the water. His shoulders sagged slightly, tension draining from him as relief flickered across his face. For a moment, his eyes searched yours, something unreadable lingering there. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he were bracing himself for what came next.

“...Does that mean you believe me now, too?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

You blinked at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Believe you about what?”

Sebastian hesitated, running a hand through his hair. The motion was deliberate but unsteady, and when his gaze flicked away from yours, it felt like he was trying to steel himself for something difficult. “About... what I said on the Astronomy Tower,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched, the memory rushing back unbidden—the two of you sitting under the open night sky, the wind tugging at your shirts, the faint chill biting at your skin. His words hanging in the air between you.

I like you.

You hadn’t let him finish that night. You’d walked away before he could say more, before he could unravel the tangle of emotions that had already begun to overwhelm you. And now, with him standing so close, his brown eyes locking onto yours, it felt like the weight of that unfinished moment was pressing down on both of you.

“I…” You trailed off, your chest tightening as you tried to find the right words. “Sebastian, I don’t—”

“I meant it,” he interrupted softly, his voice steady now, firm in a way that left no room for doubt. His gaze locked onto yours, unwavering and resolute, as though he needed you to hear him this time.

The words hung heavily in the air, their weight settling deep in your chest. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and something you weren’t ready to name.

“Sebastian…” you began, your voice trembling as you fumbled for a response. “I… Look, I—”

But before the words could fully form, the stillness shattered. The faint, telltale creak of the door sliding open echoed through the room, cutting through the warmth and quiet like a blade.

← Previous Chapter Next Chapter →

[atlabeth]

i crumble completely (when you cry)

pairing: sebastian sallow x fem ravenclaw reader

summary: there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

a/n: hogwarts legacy was 70% off, i bought it and it's good but not good enough in all the ways that matter so im fixing it for myself. no i dont know why this is where my inspo is when i have so much unfinished stuff but just go with it

wc: 2.1k

warning(s): angst but hurt/comfort angst! a more in depth scriptorium scene so crucio is used but this is from seb's pov so lighter descriptions of all that fun stuff

“Ominis, you have to.”

“I’m not doing it!” he exclaimed. “What do you not get?”

“Would you rather die here?” Sebastian spat. “Because if you don’t, that’s what will happen. And I’ve become rather fond of my life over these past few minutes.” 

“I refuse to use dark magic,” Ominis seethed. “You of all people should understand, Sebastian!” 

“I don’t understand why you’d let us die instead of casting one spell!”

He barked an incredulous laugh. “It is not just one spell! God, you—”

“Can you do it?” 

Sebastian’s anger faltered for a moment when you spoke up, and he frowned when he saw you were looking at him. “What?” 

“Can you do it?” you repeated. “Can you cast the curse?” 

“I—” His mouth fell open and shut as he looked between you and Ominis, before they finally settled on you. “—I think so. Not well, but—”

“Then you can do it,” you said. “Cast it on me, and we’ll be out of this mess.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he said your name in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

You stared at him. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Ominis cut in. “I know what it feels like—you’re not putting yourself through that. We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way.” You gestured at the letters on the ground, his aunt’s last mark on the world. “You’ve got the answer right here, and a willing victim. What are you waiting for?”

Sebastian grimaced. “Calling yourself a victim isn’t helping.”

“The only reason you’re willing is because you don’t know what you’re signing up for.” Ominis’s blank gaze pointed at the ground, but his sharp words hit you all the same. “It’s unimaginable, excruciating pain. Every one of your nerves exploding, your bones being crushed to dust, your blood turning to fire. You will never forget what it feels like.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the chill settling over you. “Well, it’s either that or we sit around here until we die.”

“Even if he wanted to—”

“Which I don’t!” Sebastian cut in. 

“He would have to really mean it,” Ominis finished. 

“Again, which I don’t!” he exclaimed. 

“That just means it won’t hurt as much,” you said. “Should take away some of your reservations.”

Sebastian huffed. “There is something wrong with you.”

“And you were all for this when it would be Ominis casting it on me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“I— I figured he would cast it on me!” His eyes widened. “I— I could teach it to you, and you could cast it on me!”

“Will the two of you stop bickering?” Ominis asked. “It’s not making this any better.” 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Sebastian will cast the Cruciatus Curse on me, and we’ll be out of here. Okay?” 

Sebastian stared at you, your steely gaze having already met his. You’d always been stubborn, unyielding—he’d known it since you bested him in a duel in your first ever meeting. 

Ravenclaw hardheadedness, he figured. Always assuming you knew best (you usually did), that you were right (you usually were), that you could handle whatever ended up in your path (you usually could). 

And here you were, standing right in front of him, those determined eyes unwavering as you practically begged him to cast an Unforgivable Curse on you. 

Did you know that he wasn’t even sure he could cast it on you? Not just because it was near unthinkable, but because he had no idea if he could scrounge up enough ill will towards you to even partially want to hurt you. 

Did you know that you were the reason he’d started doing better in classes? That, no matter how much he complained about your study sessions together, that he could have been doing something much more productive, he treasured every moment with you? 

Did you even know that the mere thought of causing you pain made him want to retch? That, yes, he may very well choose death over imparting the torture curse on you? 

Did you even know how he felt about you? 

Sebastian pulled his wand out his robes, his grip tightening in an effort to stop his hand from shaking. “You’re sure about this.” 

You nodded. “It won’t leave any physical wounds. It’ll be over sooner than you know it.” 

He huffed as he glanced away. “You shouldn’t be the one reassuring me.” 

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged. “Just… buy me a pint of butterbeer when we get out of here. Then we’ll be square.” 

“You’re not exactly aiming high,” Sebastian said wryly. 

You smiled. “My mum always told me it was the simple things. Now, do it before I lose my nerve.” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, once, twice, three times as he adjusted his hold on his wand. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember the wand movement, but instead, he saw your face. 

The first time he met you, when you embarrassed him in front of the whole class by beating him ina duel. When you asked him to take you to Hogsmeade for the first time, and you ended up taking down a troll—how beautiful you looked with the glow of exertion beneath your skin, when you turned to him with the widest (and maybe first) smile he’d ever seen from you in the wake of your efforts. 

How could he do something like this to you?

He pushed the doubt down. There was no other way. You wanted him to do it—wanted him to save them all from a very boring, very preventable death. 

Something in the scriptorium could save Anne. That was worth anything. 

Sebastian took in a deep breath. He brought forth every negative thought—the goblin that cursed his sister, his housemates that believed in nothing but blood purity, his uncle that refused to believe in him, refused to even try to save Anne. 

None of it to do with you, who had done nothing but support him since you helped him up from the ground after pummeling him into it, but he tried to project it onto you anyways. 

He raised his wand. 

He opened his eyes—your gaze hadn’t moved. They showed no fear, no anger, no emotion at all but steely determination. 

“Crucio!” 

Red light arced from his wand to your body. You crumpled to your knees the instant the spell reached you, skull-splintering screams echoing throughout the small room as the curse wrapped its way around you. 

Your scarf fell from your neck, your robes pooled around you, your knees and palms scraped the stone as you tried to support yourself in any way. Your agonized wails were deafening, and Sebastian nearly lost it right then and there, nausea rising in his throat. Ominis’s blank, widened gaze fell on the wall, his hands clenched into fists as he fought to keep his expression even. 

You were one of the strongest people Sebastian knew. Always infallible, always so smart, so level headed in the face of his impulsivity. Naturally gifted at magic, and somehow willing to tolerate him. And he’d been forced to reduce you to this. 

But it worked. Your screams of pure torment unlocked something in Salazar Slytherin’s sick design, and the door of tortured faces pulsed with red energy before sliding into the stone. 

Sebastian rushed over the moment the door started to open, his wand falling from his grasp in his haste and his eyes wide with fear and concern. He went to touch you, but stopped just before he could—he didn’t want to hurt you more. Your entire body rose and fell with your beleaguered breaths as you rolled on your side, your every movement labored. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I— I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You couldn’t respond, the pain still arcing its way through your body despite the curse being done. You inhaled sharply as your eyes screwed shut, and you nodded. 

“You’re clearly not okay.” The slight waver in Ominis’s voice betrayed his unaffected stature. “That was remarkably stupid.”

“Ominis—” Sebastian started, but you shook your head. 

“It worked,” you interrupted as you lifted a shaky hand to point at the now revealed scriptorium. “Couldn’t… couldn’t be too stupid… could it?”

“There is something wrong with you,” he whispered. You could only manage a pained laugh at his words. 

Sebastian stayed there with you as you fought through the last few convulsions—he said nothing when you grabbed his hand, bit back his wince when you squeezed tighter than a vice. After what you just went through, he could bear something so small. 

Your breathing was still labored when he finally helped you up. Your legs nearly collapsed beneath you, but he kept you upright. 

“You’re okay,” he whispered, desperate to reassure you. “You— you’re okay.”

“I told you I would be,” you said. 

“You did,” he conceded. “I keep forgetting you’re always right.” 

He got the slightest smile from you at that. Sebastian glanced over when he heard footsteps, and he saw Ominis approaching. His whole body still held a tenseness, but he was sure it was for a different reason this time. 

“…You took that well,” he finally said, and he held out your scarf. 

Again, another laugh and another wince. “I really didn’t. But thank you.” 

You reached for the scarf, but Sebastian got to it first. He gently draped it around your neck, taking special care to keep the Ravenclaw emblem in the front. You had a lot of pride in your house. 

“How’s that?” he asked softly. 

“Perfect,” you nodded. “Thank you.” 

He nodded too, and Ominis cleared his throat. Sebastian turned back to him, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. Ominis held his wand, and he took it back before shoving it back into his robes. Casting any sort of spell felt dirtied right now. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I… I’m sorry about all this.” 

“…Thank you,” Ominis echoed. “Let’s just get out of here before any more of Slytherin’s tricks find us.” 

“No arguments here,” you mumbled. 

Ominis walked in, and though your eyes followed him, you lingered back with Sebastian. He still supported you, one of his arms interlocked with yours. A part of him was worried that you would collapse again the second he stepped away. He could feel your chilled skin even through your robes—no wonder you always wore your scarf. You ran colder than a mermaid. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said quietly. 

“You already said that.” 

“Because it’s true,” he said. “These curses are unforgivable for a reason. You never should have had to go through this.” 

“Well, I forgive you,” you said. “We had no choice, and I asked you to do it. And,” you gave him a wry look, “it didn’t hurt that much, so you clearly didn’t mean it.” 

He couldn’t even laugh at that—he kept hearing your piercing screams, agony beyond all reason. He would surely hear them for weeks to come in his sleep, see your prone form every time he closed his eyes. 

He felt you nudge him in the side. “Hey. Perk up. I’m okay. Besides,” you gave him a sideways smile, “Rowena would be proud. Anything in the name of knowledge, eh?” 

That got the slightest of smiles out of him, and he shook his head. “There’s—” 

“Something wrong with me, I know. That’s the third time today.” You tilted your head towards the scriptorium. “Now, shall we get what we suffered for?” 

Sebastian nodded, and the two of you walked in, him still supporting you. Ominis had already made his way up the stairs—he really did want to get out as soon as possible. You had your wand in your free hand and had already murmured a quick Revelio, eyes darting around in an effort to unearth any secrets. 

“That brain of yours never stops, does it?” 

Your lips quirked. “Never.” 

Another beat of silence as you searched the alcoves together. He couldn’t help but watch you—you were a Ravenclaw in her natural habitat. Your brow creased just so, your pretty features honed to a single point of focus, cycling through all your thoughts at breakneck speed despite what you just went through. It made his heart swell with something he couldn’t quite name, right beside a gnawing hole filled with guilt.  

“I really do owe you a pint,” Sebastian murmured.  

You laughed. Lighter, this time, and with only the slightest grimace. “Make that two.” 

A smile crossed his lips without him even thinking. Sebastian was so glad he had you in his life—he was only sorry he had to wait until fifth year. 

“Deal.”

[orqheuss]

HL modern!AU

MC: I have decided I am a snack. People are just not hungry.

Sebastian, under his breath: I'm fucking starving

[tamayula-hl]

From Indifference to Obsession

It would be great if the indifferent feelings they had for MC when they first met her were later transformed into a Yandere-like too much love. In particular, I would like to see Sebastian, who initially considered MC only as a means to cure Anne, later become deeply, deeply obsessive in his love for her!