#another loss of virginity fic whoopsie

[shadowtriovibes]

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, fluff and smut

Summary: "I would like to request Sebastian and MC wanting to have their first time and Seb being the bookworm he is doing some ~research in the restricted section on how to make MC feel good and when she discovers it finds it super sweet ❤"

Tonight he has a very specific quest as he wanders the underground stacks, keeping a mindful eye out for any nosy ghosts as he makes his way toward one of the sections he hasn’t ever had the mind to explore. A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, "Sexually Explicit Materials." Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Sebastian has snuck into the Restricted Section of the library more times than he can recall.

It’s almost too easy to cause a distraction, conceal himself with Disillusionment and slip past Scribner to pick the lock and let himself into Hogwarts’ most valuable collection of rare books, obscure manuscripts, and other magical oddities deemed too advanced (or dangerous) for the average student.

As long as Peeves is otherwise occupied, he usually finds what he’s looking for without incident.

However, it’s been a while since Sebastian has found himself in need of a book from this particular section. Ever since you’d used Isadora’s magic to pull Anne’s curse from her frail body and store it in a goblin-made metal locket, he’d kept his word and avoided practicing any sort of Dark Arts.

He simply doesn’t need to anymore.

(...He still reads about it sometimes. But how else will he know what to avoid?)

Tonight he has a very specific quest as he wanders the underground stacks, keeping a mindful eye out for any nosy ghosts as he makes his way toward one of the sections he hasn’t ever had the mind to explore.

A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, “Sexually Explicit Materials.”

Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

It’s an open secret amongst Hogwarts’ more senior students that somewhere hidden within the Restricted Section was an entire shelf of books all about, well… relations. Witches would whisper to each other about how they could probably find out everything they’d ever wanted to know about the mysterious opposite sex.

The wizards just hoped that could find some illustrations.

At least a few times per year, some ambitious students would attempt to get a teacher’s permission to access such books, but most failed. Sebastian, not willing to risk being turned down, figured it would be better to ask forgiveness if he was caught “borrowing” a few books rather than seek someone like Sharp’s permission.

He peered closely at the spines as he crept down the length of the aisle.

Smethwyk’s Guide to Marital Relations… Magickal Self-Knowledge… Sexual Behaviour in the Contemporary Wizard… Bewitching the Fairer Sexe…

That last one piques his interest.

He slides it off the shelf and gingerly opens the front cover, hoping that the book won’t start to sensually moan (or worse) and alert the librarian of his presence. Mercifully it remains silent, so he eagerly starts to flip through its pages.

Oh, there are illustrations and then some. The magical kind that move, at that.

Sebastian knows that if anyone were to catch him right now, he’d be terminally embarrassed. But he’s determined to read this book from cover to cover – not merely out of curiosity, but because he has a purpose now.

Since the two of you had decided to make the leap from friends to something more, you’ve already shared so many lovely milestones. To Sebastian, they were all meaningful: the first time you’d kissed, the first time you’d felt each other through your clothes, the first time you’d both had to spring apart and catch your breaths because things had gotten very intense very quickly. (That last memory is one of his favorites to relive.)

But earlier that week, you’d sprung on him that you were ready.

“Ready?” he’d asked dumbly.

“Ready,” you breathed, kissing down his jaw to his neck while you squirmed impatiently in his lap. “For you, for more.”

“You want more?” Sebastian sighed contently, tipping his head back so you can suck one of those claiming bruises you love to put on him. “We have all night, love, and I’m certainly in no rush.”

“I mean for sex,” you blurted out.

“Y-you said you’re ready for…?” he stammered. “W-well, I mean–”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you mumbled, immediately backing off. “You must think me truly wicked for even suggesting it.”

In fact, Sebastian wasn’t thinking much of anything at that moment. But he forced himself to focus and reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you at all.

He’s quite interested, it’s just… he feels hopelessly ignorant.

He knows you lived in the Muggle world until you were fifteen, and that there’s no such compunction about talking about sexual relations at that age within non-magic spaces. Witches and wizards remain staunchly conservative on the matter, however, and generally the topic of “marital intimacy” is firmly taboo in public at Hogwarts.

Students are undoubtedly curious, but many will remain pretty naive until they leave school.

You, however, are not ignorant. He’s fairly confident you’ve never indulged in that sort of behavior with anyone else, but your knowledge of what witches and wizards do together, what the two of you might do together is assuredly more robust than his own.

He simply can’t have that.

Sebastian slips Bewitching the Fairer Sexe into his school bag and sneaks back out of the library. He doesn’t crack it open again until he’s back in the dormitory with the curtains pulled tightly around his bed.

At first he doesn’t bother casting Silencio, because that’s not what this is about. He’s stubbornly focused on learning from this text, not on becoming distracted by all the enchanted illustrations of the erogenous zones of a witch’s body, or where exactly one should touch between her thighs to bring her to her climax, or even how a wizard can use his mouth to pleasure her…

Merlin, who is he kidding? Better do a Silencio just in case.

—

Sebastian clings to that book for nearly a full week before he’s caught.

By you, no less, which is horrifically embarrassing.

He’d even kept it hidden from his dormmates with the exception of Ominis, who can always tell when he’s got a secret. He just assures Sebastian that he couldn’t care less about a smutty book as long as it doesn’t involve any phonic components.

But he’d left it underneath his pillow with a single corner sticking out, and that’s all it took for you to find it when you let yourself into the seventh-year wizards’ room to borrow one of your love’s scarves for your afternoon walk down to Hogsmeade.

When you don’t return quickly, Sebastian goes upstairs to track you down.

He’s horrified to discover you sitting cross-legged on his bed, lazily flipping through the book.

“That’s not mine,” he blurts out in a panic.

“It was on your bed,” you counter, barely looking up from its pages. “Under your pillow, even.”

“You’re snooping through my things?” he demands as he feels himself flush red.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Like you wouldn’t do the same if you could get into my room.”

“That’s not the point,” he insists. “I – will you quit looking at that?!”

“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “It’s really quite informative, this book of yours. Not a bad resource.”

He anxiously runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Merlin’s beard.”

“You know what might have been easier, though?” you say, finally closing the book and leaning over to drop it on Sebastian’s side table.

When he doesn’t answer, you get up from the bed and cross the room to him before taking his hands and placing them firmly on your waist.

“You could have just asked me,” you say softly.

He immediately makes a face.

“What?” you protest.

“I just… I wanted to figure out what I’m doing before coming to you,” he admits. “Felt like I was supposed to.”

“Why’s that?” you ask softly, winding your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m a wizard,” Sebastian says as if it’s supposed to be obvious. “I’m not supposed to be so clueless.”

You gently remind him, “But you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend,” he retorts.

“Sure, but I had Muggle friends,” you explain. “They talk about sex, they’re not as repressed as you wizards.”

“If you think I’m repressed, may I introduce you to Ominis?” Sebastian jokes, and you roll your eyes fondly.

“All I’m saying is, I may know a thing or two,” you murmur as you raise up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. “And we can always talk about what we want.”

As you kiss him, Sebastian stubbornly thinks, I know a thing or two as well now.

His hands drift from your waist down to your hips as he pulls you closer, earning a soft sigh from you that makes him smile against your lips.

“Tell me what you want then,” he asks as his hands continue sliding down to your ass.

“Right now?” you ask softly. “Here?”

“If you want,” he offers. “Everyone else is out for the day, we have all afternoon.”

“Yes,” you gasp, and Sebastian isn’t sure if you’re agreeing with him or reacting to him slipping his hands underneath your skirt to feel your bare skin.

He steals a few more increasingly urgent kisses before breaking away from you to put a quick locking spell on the door.

You return to Sebastian’s bed while he shrugs off his jacket, promptly abandoning it on the floor. His vest and shirt follow while you watch with an expectant look.

Before reaching for his belt, he skeptically looks you up and down. “Why aren’t you taking your clothes off?”

“I was hoping you would do it for me,” you say softly.

Merlin, you are absolutely going to be the death of him one of these days.

Thoughts of his belt abandoned, Sebastian joins you on the bed and cups your face in his hands so he can thoroughly kiss you before getting to work taking off your uniform. By now you’ve both seen a fair bit more of each other than you have of anyone else, but never like this – never fully bare.

Your vest and tie are simple enough as they’re just like his own, but once he starts unbuttoning your shirt, he reveals a whole new layer: a thin chemise that sits just below your shoulders tucked inside a simple white corset that cinches your waist. Its seams drew clear attention to your breasts, and Sebastian wishes he could simply charm the damn thing right off you.

However, he remembers from his reading that you might enjoy being rid of it by his hands instead, slowly building the sort of anticipation that his book had claimed witches crave in the bedroom.

He feels vindicated each time your breath hitches when he slips open another one of the corset’s delicate hooks. Once the garment goes slack and falls open to your sides, he enthusiastically slides his hands beneath your chemise and cups your breasts in his hands.

“Touch me,” you groan, arching your back.

“I am touching you,” he teases.

You whine frustratedly and place your hands over his through your shirt, encouraging him to properly take hold of you.

That won’t do, Sebastian thinks. He wants to reassure you that he is not naive to your pleasure, that he knows exactly where he needs to touch you to drive you mad.

He’s read that you’re sensitive here, especially when you’re wanting for touch. He drags his thumbs over your nipples, both at the same time, and you sigh his name.

If he hasn’t already been growing hard in his trousers, that certainly would have done it.

“Touch you here is what you meant, hmm?” he murmurs as he rubs slow circles over your tender peaks. “Let’s try to be more specific next time, love.”

You don’t even bother telling him to bugger off, which lets him know he’s gotten you worked up already.

You pout endearingly when Sebastian removes his hands from your chest. He assuages you with a quick kiss before coaxing you into arching your back for him again so he can toss the corset to the floor. Then he pulls your chemise up over your head and quickly chucks it away as well. Now he can actually see your chest, already flushed pink from just his hands.

You cry out when he licks one of your stiff nipples and takes it into his mouth. He moans into your skin and sucks at you, remembering having read to be gentle with you here. You reward his efforts by twisting your fingers into his curls to hold him against your breast and stroking your thumb along his hollowed cheek.

Amused, he recalls being a younger student and hearing some of the seventh-year insisting that witches tasted like a wide range of things. Often they insisted the taste was either floral or sweet like sugar candies, but one of them had even claimed he’d pressed his lips to his girlfriend’s chest and tasted elderflower wine.

You don’t taste like any of those things. On his tongue Sebastian notices only the clean taste of warm skin, like when he kisses your neck, and maybe a lingering note of the rosewater perfume you sometimes wear. It’s heady and human and maddeningly perfect.

“Just like that, Seb,” you whine.

Beneath him, your legs fall open wider and your skirt is rucked up to the middle of your thighs. Sebastian thinks it’s a crying shame you’re even still wearing the silly thing, so he pulls away from you with a filthy wet sound and reaches for the clasp at the side of your skirt.

“Lift up,” he murmurs and you tilt your hips so he can tug your skirt down. He easily hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your undergarments as well so that he can get you naked all at once.

You’re a sight straight from one of his daydreams like this – nude and flushed all over with your legs spread in his bed.

He grips his cock through his trousers to give himself some much-needed relief while you observe with a covetous stare.

“I want to see you,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare say ‘you can already see me’ or some nonsense, I want to see your cock.”

“As you wish, love,” he says cheekily.

After undoing his trousers, Sebastian shoves them and his own undergarments down to the middle of his thighs. He can’t resist the urge to stroke himself a few times before letting you take a look.

As far as “wand lengths” go, he never much worried about comparing himself to others; he thought he could safely say that he was at least average. Now though, the seconds feel like minutes underneath your gaze. You’re quite red in the face and your eyes are wider than usual, and he suddenly realizes that it’s the first time anyone else has ever looked at him like this.

He didn’t think it would feel that significant, but it does.

“Well?” Sebastian asks teasingly, desperate for you to say something.

Finally, you stutter, “W-well, you’re definitely bigger than my fingers.”

“Your fingers?” he says. “You mean when you…?”

“Yes,” you squeak. “And now I’m nervous it’s going to hurt.”

He frowns. “Oh.”

“B-but I want to!” you quickly insist. “I just think, um. Maybe we can start with something else?”

“Love,” Sebastian murmurs fondly, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “Of course we’re going to work our way there, I wasn’t ever going to just put it in right away.”

“No?” you sigh distractedly.

“Aren’t you witches supposed to love foreplay?” he teases. “I read all about it in my book.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He raises an eyebrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you were supposed to ‘know a thing or two,’” he says. “Foreplay is everything we do before the actual, er. Penetrative part. Surely you weren’t expecting to just…?”

Everything Sebastian had read had told him that under no circumstances should he press inside you without ensuring you were prepared. He’d poured over the illustrations that instructed him how to use his fingers to stimulate you, how to help acclimate you to feeling full before he filled you with his cock. (He learned he could even use his tongue to do the job, which sounds bloody brilliant.)

“I – I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I know you’re going to go inside. And I know how I use my fingers on myself sometimes, but I just…”

You trail off sheepishly. “Maybe I didn’t know as much as I thought.”

Sebastian is quite pleased by this turn of events. “Bet you’re glad I found that book then, aren’t you?”

You scoff and spread your legs a little bit wider. “Let’s see it then, you know-it-all. Show me this ‘foreplay’ of yours.”

He quickly shoves his pants the rest of the way off and kneels between your legs, one hand gently resting on the lowest part of your stomach. He thinks you’re even lovelier between your thighs than the illustrations, with your taut, delicate skin flushed pink and glistening wet at your entrance.

“Just one to start,” he mumbles to himself, pressing the tip of his middle finger against your slit with his palm up just as he’d learned.

Your body opens up for Sebastian so beautifully that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that this must surely be some kind of ancient magic in itself – perhaps a primordial form as old as wizardkind.

His mouth on you earlier has gotten you plenty wet, and inside you’re soft as silk and feverishly warm. He curses under his breath at the realization that soon enough, he’ll feel this on his cock. (He has no idea how he’ll ever be able to go back to his own hand and some salve after this.)

“Good?” he asks you distractedly.

“Yes,” you sigh.

He glances up to check your expression and finds that your eyes have slipped shut, and there’s a blissful smile on your lips.

Determined to keep you focused, Sebastian murmurs, “Tell me how you use your fingers on yourself.”

“I – I usually use two, maybe three,” you admit shyly. “But my hands are smaller than yours.”

“Do you like to think about anything while you touch yourself?” he asks in a low voice.

You whine like you’re overwhelmed, but your hips cant toward his hand and he can tell what you’re asking for. He pulls out until just the tip of his finger is inside you, and then he presses back in with his index finger tucked alongside it.

“Yes, Seb,” you whimper.

“Go on then, tell me what you think about,” he croons. “I’ll tell you what I think about if you do.”

He starts to fuck his hand into you like that, burying two long fingers in you all the way to the knuckle. Watching you take him inside you like this is a thousand times more captivating than any illustration in any smutty book that’s ever been published, he’s sure of it.

“I can’t,” you protest. “We aren’t supposed to — that’s dirty, talking about that.”

“Dirtier than this?” he asks wryly. “Love, you can tell me anything.”

You stay stubbornly silent until Sebastian presses his thumb to that swollen nub that peeks out just above your entrance, the one that looks like it’s aching to be touched. Just the lightest touch elicits a broken moan out of you.

“Tell me what you think about and I’ll give you a third finger,” he bargains.

“P-please,” you beg. “I just – I just think about you, you on top of me, what your body looks like, it’s always just you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he taunts as he makes good on his word and starts to press his ring finger in alongside the other two.

This time there’s noticeably more resistance. You were right, you do have smaller hands than him and his three longer, masculine fingers are more of a stretch than you typically give yourself. Sebastian laves more attention onto your clit, pressing his thumb against you a bit harder to distract you. You’re still plenty wet, and he assumes that’s a promising sign.

Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you try to relax for his fingers, but you nevertheless remember to demand that he tell you his fantasies.

“You want to know what I think about?” he asks casually. “It’s been the same thing for a while, really.”

“W-what is it?” you ask, stuttering a little when he succeeds in pressing all three fingers deep inside you.

“It’s you, in my bed, moaning my name, begging for me to fuck you,” he tells you. “Every time I stroke myself off, that’s all I need.”

He punctuates each detail with a thrust of his hand. You’re slick all over by now, and Sebastian has to imagine that a lesser wizard would give up at this point and eagerly replace his fingers with his cock.

But he’s not done with you yet. He’d been quite surprised to learn from that wonderful book that many witches can reach multiple climaxes in a row, provided they’re being seen to by a courteous wizard. He wants to give you your first right now, before he becomes distracted by chasing his own.

“Are you going to come, love?” Sebastian asks. “Just from my fingers?”

“N-no, I want to wait until you’re inside me,” you protest weakly, but your hips are rocking up to meet him with every thrust of his hand.

“Let me make you come like this,” he bargains. “I’m not going to stop at one, darling, I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied.”

Your thighs are properly trembling now – Merlin, you must be right on the edge. That’s when Sebastian gets the idea of leaning down and replacing his thumb on your clit with his tongue.

Immediately his world goes dark as you clamp your thighs around his head and wail.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant as he seals his lips against your skin. “Seb, please!”

He feels you get even tighter around his fingers when you come. He can barely even move them for several long seconds, so he focuses instead on drawing out your pleasure with his mouth. You hold him there with your legs until you can’t take the stimulation anymore, and when he pulls out of you and sits back on his heels, he imagines he must look mad.

Hair mussed, pupils blown, lips wet… you’ve made an utter fiend out of him.

“Suppose I did alright, then,” he observes with a smirk.

“Sebastian,” you sigh weakly. “Come kiss me.”

He bends down so you can wordlessly express your thanks with a lewd kiss – one that tastes like your own body’s release. It’s erotic, and wanton, and it reminds Sebastian of his aching, ignored cock that’s assuredly leaking all over his sheets by now.

“You must be in a dire state by now,” you observe, lips brushing against his.

“That’s an understatement,” he jokes. “I think I might faint if I wait any longer.”

“Then don’t wait,” you coo. “Go on, Seb, you can.”

He clenches his jaw hard when he sits back to guide his cock against your entrance. There’s no way he’s going to last long in this state, not with you spread open and waiting for him like this. Squeezing his hand around the base of his cock helps a bit while he sinks inside you, but he still feels overpowered by the immensity of the feeling of filling you up.

“Merlin, you’re big,” you hiss. “B-but it’s okay, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” he manages to ask.

You press your hands to his bare chest and he understands that it’s a wordless plea for him to pause, just for a moment. It’s pure torture, but he remains still inside you while you adjust.

“Merlin,” you whisper. “You’re really… we’re really…”

“I’m begging you, don’t say another word,” Sebastian grits out. “Or this will be over right now.”

You giggle, flattered by his admission, and even the motion of your body laughing threatens to put him over the edge.

“You know I don’t care about that,” you tell him softly. “Forget about your pride. I just want you to feel as good as you made me feel.”

Now Sebastian is the one at a loss for words, merely moaning as you drag your hands down his chest to his hips and encourage him to move.

Once he starts, he can’t stop. He tries to remember everything he’d read in that damn book: maintain a steady rhythm, don’t pull out all the way, keep pleasuring her with your hands…

Most of it he quickly disregards. He thinks to himself, how could he be doing this wrong? This feeling, fucking you, it feels like an instinct he never knew he had. He has to fill you over and over with his cock, he simply must.

And judging by the way you’re arching your back and crying out his name while he slams into you, he’s not leaving you unsatisfied.

In fact, he nearly sees stars when you slip a hand between your bodies and hurriedly rub at your clit until you’re coming again in what has to be some sort of record time. Only this time, when you reach your peak and your walls tighten around his cock, there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from falling right over the edge with you.

Sebastian feels properly spent by the time you both come back to your senses. Still buried inside you, he can feel how he’s filled you up with his release. It satisfies something in his feral hindbrain that much prefers spilling inside of you rather than his own hand.

He sees it start to leak out of you when he pulls out, and he recalls reading that a good wizard should offer his witch a rag to clean up after such a marvelous ending. He attempts to climb off the bed to track one down but you hook your leg behind his knee and whine for him to stay.

“I just want to get you–”

“No, I don’t need anything but you,” you insist, reaching for him to tug him down against your body.

Sebastian bests you when it comes to both height and breadth, but you don’t seem to mind his weight pinning you to the mattress. (Though even if you did, there’s hardly room for the two of you to lie beside each other in one of Hogwarts’ infuriatingly small beds.)

You’re both quiet for a while as you enjoy the simplicity of each other’s company, occasionally sharing a few lazy kisses or a whispered reminder of your love.

Eventually, Sebastian drawls, “I reckon I can return that book now.”

“Hold on,” you counter. “There may be some more tricks in there that we might want to try next time.”

“You dirty minx,” he laughs. “I suppose I’ve ‘bewitched’ you, have I?”

“Sebastian Sallow, I was bewitched by you quite long ago,” you tell him. “But we’ll have to wait and see whether that dirty book of yours gives you any more brilliant ideas for what to do with me.”

He thinks he quite likes the sound of that.