#hogwarts sebastian

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

miss girl your writing is so good that i wanna see the hottest seb x mc smut that you can write. The plot is up to your creative genius (i am a sucker for unestablished relationship tho hehe)

Beg for It | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

...omg this is so filthy jesus. I... have nothing to say.

Words: ~6,000

Tags: Shameless Smut (no seriously)

You’d barely made it through the door when Sebastian clocked the outfit.

Low-cut top. Tight jeans that hugged every curve then flared out at your calves. Lip gloss, shiny enough to catch the light, to make him wonder if someone had kissed it off and you'd just reapplied on your way over. His eyes dipped low before he could stop himself—cleavage, hips, thighs—and then snapped right back up, jaw clenched.

“Someone’s dressed up,” he muttered, feigning disinterest as he slouched deeper into the couch.

You arched a brow, toeing off your shoes. “Met someone for drinks before this.”

There it was.

You were always doing this—walking into his flat looking like sin, hair curled soft around your shoulders, smelling like that perfume he knew too well. The one that clung to his pillows sometimes after you stayed too late. The one he’d once caught himself sniffing off a hoodie you’d left behind.

And yet it had never been for him.

Instead it had been ten years of friendship. Ten years of wanting you and pretending he didn’t. Laughing off your teasing. Swallowing his jealousy. And once again, some other asshole—some random, temporary, replaceable nobody—was getting your attention. Your time. Your body.

He watched you walk past him, hips swaying. You headed straight for the fridge, grabbed a drink, and leaned against the counter, so at ease it made him want to throw something.

“You didn’t say you were seeing anyone,” he said flatly.

“I’m not,” you replied. “We’ve just gone out a few times. It's not a big deal.”

Sebastian scoffed, barely audible. “Right.”

You arched a brow. “'Right'?"

He looked at you then, like maybe if he stared long enough, you’d stop playing dumb. “You dress like that just to grab drinks with some guy you barely know?”

“Jesus, Seb.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s a low-cut top, not a contract. Why are you acting like such an ass?”

He shrugged. “You just usually tell me when you're fucking someone.”

Your eyes narrowed. “We’re not fucking. Not that it’s any of your business.”

His jaw ticked. “Not my business?” He stood, slow and heavy, the way a storm rolls in before it breaks. “That’s rich."

You didn’t back away, but your arms crossed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, stepping closer, “that I’m your best friend. I’ve listened to every rant, every heartbreak, every drunk voicemail at two in the morning. I’ve picked you up from dates that went bad and even fixed your damn shower when it broke. So of course it's my goddamn business."

You stared at him, but he kept going, words thick with something deeper than frustration, something feral. “You think I’ve just been sitting back playing the supportive friend all this time? You think I don’t notice when you show up here dressed like that, smelling like you want to be fucked?”

You gaped at him. “You do not get to talk to me like that.”

His eyes darkened. “Yeah? You going to stop me?"

Your spine straightened, chin lifting like it always did when someone tried to push you around. You’d dealt with enough cocky men in your life, and you didn’t back down for any of them. Not even Sebastian Sallow.

"Talk to me like that again and I swear on my life I’ll walk right the fuck out."

He looked down at you—down—because he was broader now than he'd been at fifteen, solid through the shoulders and thick all over, and you were still you: short, mouthy, and never willing to yield.

“Yeah? You think you’re just gonna leave me?” he said, voice low and sharp, like a threat wrapped in a dare.

You stared him down, even as your heart pounded. “I will. Don’t test me.”

“I’ve been testing you for ten years,” he snapped. “And not once have you ever walked.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter under your chest, knowing damn well it just pushed your tits up further. "You know what? Fuck you, Sebastian."

He laughed, sharp and bitter. “You’d like to,” he said darkly, eyes dropping deliberately to the swell of your chest before flicking back up to your face. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

He leaned down, forehead nearly touching yours, breath ghosting over your lips.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he said, voice like gravel. “Say it."

He watched your throat bob as you swallowed. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin, see the defiance in your eyes, but beneath it, he saw something else. Something electric. Your pupils were blown wide, your breathing shallow. Your fists were balled against your sides in restraint.

You wanted this. You were just too fucking stubborn to admit it first.

“Go on, baby,” he said pushed. “Lie to me.”

“Don’t call me that,” you retorted.

“Why?” he smirked, onto you like a wolf who’d caught the scent of blood. “Because it makes you wet?”

You swallowed hard. “You’re my best friend—”

He scoffed. “Don’t give me that.”

Because fuck being your best friend. He couldn’t do it anymore. Not when you were standing there, all attitude and cleavage and lip gloss, acting like he hadn’t spent the better part of a decade biting his tongue.

You weren’t just his best friend. You were everything he wanted and everything he couldn’t have. And now you were looking at him like maybe you’d finally figured out he could break you in half and you’d love every second of it.

His hand came up and curled into the hair at the base of your neck, just enough to make your head tilt back, just enough to make your blown-out eyes meet his.

“You want me to be your best friend?” he murmured. “Then stop dressing like you want to ride my cock.”

You tilted your chin higher, eyes blazing. “Maybe I dress like this because I can. Because I like the way I look. Not everything’s about your dick, Sebastian.”

He huffed a dark, humorless laugh.

“Yeah?” His thumb dragged slowly along the side of your throat, feeling the way your pulse skipped beneath his touch. “Then why are your thighs clenched?”

Your lips parted like you were going to fire back, but nothing came. Because you were clenching your thighs. He’d noticed it the moment he stepped into your space. The way you shifted your weight, subtly grinding down on nothing like your body was trying to chase friction without even realizing it.

He dipped his head lower, his mouth grazing the shell of your ear. “When you picked that top tonight, you were hoping I'd stare at your tits, weren't you?”

His voice dragged a shiver straight down your spine.

“Bet you were,” he whispered, breath hot. “Bet you were thinking about me seeing you walk in, knowing I’d want to bend you over the counter the second I did.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you breathed, defiant even now.

He grinned against your cheek. “You’re soaked.”

“I’m not—”

He pulled back and dragged his hand down your body—over your throat, between your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above your waistband.

“Then you won’t mind if I check.”

You stiffened.

One more second passed. One more heartbeat.

Then your mouth crashed into his.

Messy. Hard. All teeth and heat and frustration and ten goddamn years of pining detonating at once.

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back to give him better access. His tongue swept in like he’d been dying to taste you, groaning low when he finally did.

Your body arched against him, tits crushed to his chest as you moaned against his lips, hands clawing at his shoulders like you couldn’t get close enough, like every smart-mouthed thing you’d said earlier had just been foreplay.

Fuck, he’d dreamed of that moan, and he was drunk on it now, greedy for every little noise you made, every shiver that rolled through your body when he touched you.

He bit your lip—hard enough to sting—then soothed it with his tongue, hand sliding up beneath your top, fingers splaying wide across your waist before moving higher. Rough palms skimmed over soft skin, calloused fingertips ghosting the underside of your bra.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on the swell of your tits. “You’ve been walking around with these in my face for years. Do you even know what that’s done to me?”

“Sebastian—”

He kissed one breast through the your shirt, then tugged the fabric over your head, groaning at the sight of you in front of him. He yanked the cups of your bra down with a roughness that made you gasp, his eyes fixed as your tits spilled free—soft and heavy and fucking perfect. He made a low sound in his throat, something between reverence and hunger.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered. “Look at you.”

He took your nipple into his mouth. Warm, wet, and hungry, he sucked hard, rolling his tongue over it, moaning like he was fucking tasting heaven.

Your hands were in his hair, tugging, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not when he’d spent so many sleepless nights imagining this and it was still better than he’d pictured.

He switched to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention, and you moaned, hips grinding against him reflexively.

The sound you made went straight to his cock, thick and aching where it pressed against the seam of his jeans, straining for relief. He groaned against your chest, fingers digging into your hips.

“Already rubbing up on me?” he said, breathless. “So fucking needy.”

“Shut up,” you panted.

He huffed a laugh, hands moving down your sides and to the clasp of your jeans.

“Let me taste what’s mine.”

He popped the button open with one hand, dragging the zipper down with the other. You were breathing harder now, lips parted, eyes hazy and half-lidded like you couldn’t believe this was really happening—and fuck, he barely could either.

He tugged your jeans down rough and fast, and when you kicked them off, standing in nothing but your thong, he nearly lost it.

His eyes dropped to the darkened patch between your thighs. Proof. Confirmation. You could lie to him all you wanted—talk shit, talk back, call him cocky—but your body didn’t lie.

He dropped to his knees then gripped your hips, hauling you closer and planting a kiss on your inner thigh that made you flinch.

“You have no idea,” he said, nose brushing the side of your thong, breathing you in like oxygen, “how many times I’ve imagined this.”

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes. “Bet you touched yourself thinking about it too.”

"Yeah," you breathed, voice trembling. “So many fucking times.”

He hadn’t expected you to admit it. Not out loud. Not like that, breathy and raw and real. His jaw flexed, control slipping by the second.

“Yeah?” he rasped, eyes locked on yours. “You think about me when you do it?”

You nodded.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, fingers slipping under the fabric and dragging across you, slick strings clinging to his fingers. “You should’ve told me,” he muttered. “I’d have done it for you.”

You shifted, like instinct told you to close your thighs, but his hands were already there—gripping tight, spreading you apart with a groan that rumbled low in his throat.

“Uh uh,” he said. “None of that. I’ve waited too fucking long, and you're so goddamn wet for me."

He leaned in, breath hot against your core, lips ghosting over swollen skin but never settling.

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he murmured. “You hear me?”

You nodded again, but it wasn’t enough.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” you breathed.

"Good girl."

He pulled your thong aside and tasted you in one long, obscene lick that had your head tipping back against the cabinets and your fingers flying to his hair.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured between licks, breath hot against your soaked cunt. “Knew you would. Fuck—this mouth’s yours, baby. Always has been.”

You whimpered.

“Oh God, Sebastian—”

You rocked your hips without meaning to—desperate for more pressure, more friction—and he grabbed your ass in both hands, pulling you against his face like he wanted to drown in you.

He moaned into your cunt like the sound was dragged straight from his chest, needy and unfiltered. The vibrations rolled through you, made your knees buckle, made you cry out something that barely sounded like his name.

You were panting now, writhing in his grip, soaked and aching and getting close and closer to the edge.

“Seb, f-fuck—please—”

But he wasn’t going to let you off easy. Because this wasn’t just about sex. It was about punishment. About getting revenge for years of being denied. Years of watching you date assholes. Years of pretending he didn’t want to bend you over every surface in his goddamn apartment.

He pushed two fingers inside you, thick and slow, curling them just right, making you gasp. Then he pumped into you, steady and deep, dragging against that spot that made you cry out, while his mouth returned to your clit—sucking, licking, moaning, owning you.

And fuck, you were so goddamn tight, so hot and wet around him. You were perfect. Perfect and his.

Your cries grew sharper, higher-pitched, breath stuttering like you were right there, and he could feel you pulsing around his fingers, so close he could practically taste your orgasm building, tightening like a wire pulled taut.

So he pulled away.

You gasped, your body clenching around nothing, climax vanishing like smoke in the wind. You looked down at him, ruined and wide-eyed and trembling.

He wiped his mouth, chin soaked, pupils blown, lips slick and pink and infuriatingly smug.

“You wanna come?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded frantically, lips trembling, and he stood slowly, looming over you again.

“Then you’re gonna work for it.”

Before you could ask what that meant, his hands were on you, under you, and with a sharp gasp, your feet were off the ground.

“Sebastian—!”

He hoisted you against him and carried you toward the couch. He sank into the cushions with a grunt, legs spreading wide as he settled, then manhandled you into place, gripping your hips and planting you over one thick, solid thigh.

The denim of his jeans pressed right against your clit, and you whimpered, hands braced on his chest.

“There we go,” he muttered. “You want to come so bad, baby? Earn it.”

You rocked once, hesitant, and he grabbed your hips tighter. “Don’t be shy now,” he rasped. “You’ve been mouthing off for years. You can fuck yourself on my thigh, can’t you?”

You whimpered, already starting to move in slow, desperate drags, each roll of your hips dragging your soaked cunt across his leg.

“Fuck, look at you,” Sebastian groaned, watching you lose yourself, eyes flicking between your flushed face and the mess you were making. “So fucking pretty like this. My needy little thing.”

You clung to his shoulders, panting, grinding harder now, chasing your high while he groped your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples.

“Been dying to get my hands on these,” he murmured, voice wrecked. “You have no fucking idea.”

You lifted your head, breathless but defiant, hips still rocking against him with maddening friction. “Thought you were gonna ruin me, not just watch.”

His jaw clenched hard.

That voice. That fucking mouth.

Even now—panting, flushed, tits spilling out of your bra as you ground your clit against his thigh—you still had the nerve to tease him. Still had the audacity to challenge him.

It was enough to push him right to the fucking brink.

Sebastian’s cock throbbed against the seam of his jeans, so hard it hurt. The fabric was wet at the front—he was leaking through, rutting subtly against you just to take the edge off. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough until he was buried inside you, hips deep, fucking you so hard you forgot how to speak.

But not yet. He was still in control.

Barely.

He angled his thigh just slightly and watched your head tip back, mouth open in a silent gasp.

“Right there, huh?” he flexed the muscle again, holding you in place. “That the spot?"

You nodded, frantic, too far gone to form a word.

And fuck, the look on your face—dazed and wild and just shy of broken—nearly snapped his resolve. You were so goddamn close. He could feel it in every roll of your hips, every tremble in your thighs, every desperate, choked sound you made.

And because he was merciful, or perhaps sadistic, He let you ride it for one more grind. Just one. And then his hands tightened around your waist, hard enough to bruise, and he froze you there—hovering over his thigh, pulsing, soaking through his jeans, your body begging for release and getting nothing.

You let out a ragged, wrecked, betrayed sound.

“Sebastian—” you tried to move, to grind down, but his grip was iron.

“No,” he said hoarsely.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Fuck—please, I can’t—”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, voice low and dark and barely holding back.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured. “You’re gonna sit there because I said so."

You made a broken noise, halfway between a sob and a moan.

“Please, Seb—please let me come.”

It hit him low in the gut. Fucking hell. A decade he’d waited to hear you sound like that, completely undone, desperate, shaking in his arms because of him.

His lips brushed your cheek, down to your jaw, then lower still, pressing hot kisses along your throat. “You think begging’s gonna get you off?” he muttered. “Not this time. You wanted to be a brat and these are the consequences."

Your lips trembled. “I’m—fuck—I’m sorry.”

He grinned, slow and dark. “You’re not. But you will be.”

His hand slid up your back, then tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could look at you. And fuck—what a sight. Cheeks flushed, lashes wet, mouth open. You looked ruined already, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

"God you're so fucking pretty when you suffer a little. You make a mess like this for anyone else?”

You shook your head fast, eyes glassy.

“Words,” he said firmly.

“No,” you gasped. “Just you. Only you.”

He grinned, your confession lighting something up in his chest. In his cock too, which twitched eagerly as he hauled you into his arms, ignoring the squeak of surprise that left your lips.

"That’s my girl." He murmured.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, arms clinging to his shoulders, chest pressed flush to his. He could feel the sticky heat of your cunt against his stomach, could feel the tremble in your thighs and the wet marks your slick left on his shirt. You were burning up, wrecked and pliant and still whimpering from the denied high he'd ripped out from under you.

The bedroom door swung open and slammed against the wall, but all he saw was the bed. All he felt was you. He stepped to the edge and tossed you onto the mattress

You landed sprawled, legs open, tits bouncing, hair a mess around your face. And when you looked up at him like that—dazed and flushed, eyes wide and waiting—his cock throbbed so hard he nearly saw stars.

“Stay just like that,” he said, voice shredded. “Wanna look at you.”

You shifted slightly, like you couldn’t decide whether to shy away or give him more, and that little conflict drove him fucking wild. He crawled up onto the bed after you, eyes locked on yours, massive frame looming above as he settled between your legs.

He'd barely stopped moving when your hands scrambled for his jeans, fingers frantic at the button, the zipper, like instinct had taken over and your body couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Ah ah,” he murmured. “You don’t get to touch me yet.”

His hands were rough as they pushed your arms back above your head, pinning you to the cushions with certainty that had you shivering. You could wriggle, whimper, plead all you wanted, but you weren’t getting free. Not until he decided you could.

“Good girls ask,” he said lowly. “They don’t just take.”

Your voice cracked. “Please. Please let me touch you—please, I need—”

He smirked. “Huh. Guess you can be good when you want to be.”

He held your arms up with one hand and tugged the zipper of his jeans down with other, just slow enough to make you whimper. He knew exactly what he was doing, stretching your anticipation until it bordered on cruelty. And fuck, did he love it.

Your eyes were locked on his movements, on the bulge straining behind dark fabric, mouth parted like you were about to beg again.

Sebastian leaned in, lips brushing your jaw. “This what you wanted all those nights you came over in those tiny fucking shorts? Wanted me to finally snap and fuck you?”

You whimpered.

“I bet you thought about it,” he said, climbing between your legs. “In your bed, hand between your thighs. Thought about my hands, my cock, my mouth—”

“I did,” you gasped. “Sebastian, I—fuck, I did. So many times. You have no fucking idea.”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, dragging his cock free. “I think I do.”

Your gaze dropped, eyes widening.

He was huge.

Not just thick, but long too. Veins tracing up the shaft, flushed and weeping at the head, so hard it looked sore.

Your hips rocked once, almost unconsciously, chasing friction again, but this time your voice wavered.

“I… I don’t know if that’s gonna fit, Seb.”

He stilled, eyes snapping to yours. You looked nervous. Not scared, but hesitant. Like maybe you’d pushed and pushed and pushed and now realized you were standing at the edge of something that could split you in half and still leave you begging for more.

“Oh, don’t worry, pet,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you, slow and rough and full of want. “It’s gonna fit. I promise you that.”

You gasped against his mouth.

“Cause I’m not stopping till I’m all the way in,” he muttered, brushing the blunt head of his cock along your pussy. “You’re gonna take every inch, because it’s mine. And because you want to.”

You nodded, small and shaky, but willing.

Good girl.

He leaned in and kissed you, slower this time. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your jaw like he could soothe that nervous tension without words.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of you.”

Your breath hitched but you nodded, your eyes fixed on his.

You believed him.

Then he smiled that smile. Crooked and hungry and wicked.

“But I’m still gonna wreck you.”

You started up as him as he sat back, cock heavy in his hand. He gave you a look that made your core clench, dark and predatory.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, crawling up the bed, back arched, ass high. You were already shaking, thighs slick and unsteady beneath you, and Sebastian groaned at the sight.

He reached for the drawer of the bedside table.

“This rope’s gonna look so fucking good on you, baby.”

You whimpered.

His hand slid up your spine, slow and deliberate, until it reached your arms. He took your wrists in one hand and brought them together, tying them neatly to the bedframe. Firm enough to hold. To mark. To remind you who you belonged to.

“You tell me if anything hurts the wrong way,” he murmured, low and serious in your ear.

You nodded. “I will.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder before pulling back again.

Then the softness was gone.

His hand came down on your ass in a sharp slap that made you yelp, the sound cracking through the room like lightning. Your body jolted forward, but the rope held fast. You couldn’t go anywhere.

Another smack. You cried out again, the sound caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, and Sebastian groaned low in his throat.

“That’s it,” he said darkly. “Let me hear what a filthy little thing you really are.”

You were dripping at this point. He could see the it running down your thighs, could smell your arousal thick in the air.

Fuck, you were beautiful.

“Been thinking about this for years,” Sebastian said, looking down at you. “Every fucking time you bent over in those tiny shorts, every time you fell asleep on my couch in that tank top—do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

You whined, shifting your hips back against him.

“Yeah?” he rasped, dragging the head of his cock through your cunt, soaking himself in you. “You gonna admit you wanted it too?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes—wanted you so bad, for so long, Seb—”

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, looping it around his hand to arch you back into him, forcing your spine into a curve that made his cock throb.

"This might hurt," he murmured against your ear. "but you're gonna take it for me, aren’t you?"

You whimpered, already nodding before the words even left his lips.

“Yes."

With his free hand, he swiped the bead of precum gathering at his tip and smeared it against your clit. You jolted, twitching under the touch, and he chuckled darkly at the way your body reacted, so sensitive and needy it was practically begging him to just get on with it.

He guided himself back to your entrance, thick head nudging against your pussy, and pushed in slowly, just an inch, then two.

You cried out, head falling forward, breath catching as your walls stretched around him, tight and aching and so full already.

"Fuck," Sebastian hissed through his teeth. "You’re so tight—shit."

You whimpered under him, trembling and stretched wide but trying to stay still, trying to take it like the good girl you were.

“Too much?” he asked, voice almost broken. If you said yes, he’d stop. He’d hate himself, but he’d stop.

But you shook your head, breath ragged, voice a whisper against the pillow. “No. No, Seb… don’t stop.”

He groaned, his head dropping like the sound of your voice had knocked the wind out of him.

His hand slid down to your lower back, steadying you, and he pushed in deeper—slow and brutal, inch by inch, until his hips were flush with your ass. Until he was buried to the base, throbbing inside you.

You moaned, a wrecked, guttural sound that punched straight through his chest.

Your whole goddamn friendship had led up to this. Ten fucking years of holding back. Of biting his tongue. Of pretending he didn’t want you. Ten years of imagining what this would feel like—your cunt wrapped around him, tight and hot and clenching—and it still didn’t compare.

No amount of fantasy could’ve prepared him for this.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, forehead pressing to your back for one long, anchoring second. “You feel like a dream.”

You moaned beneath him as you tried to adjust, thighs trembling, but your cunt was already fluttering around him, trying to pull him deeper.

"You want more, pet?" He growled, voice low and dark and shaking with restraint.

You nodded quickly, breath stuttering, and he grinned—feral and breathless.

He snapped his hips forward and you cried out, high and broken, punched straight from your lungs as your body jolted beneath him.

He did it again. Harder. Deeper. Each thrust tearing through you with a force that left you gasping, legs shaking, mouth open in a soundless moan.

“That’s it,” he hissed, fingers still buried in your hair. “Let me hear you.”

You did. You couldn’t not. Every time he slammed into you, your body sang for him—helpless and open and so damn full.

“You like being fucked like this?” he snarled. “Like a filthy little toy?”

You whined, helpless and frantic, and his forced your head back so he could watch your mouth fall open.

“Yeah, you do,” he said, low and vicious. “So fucking desperate. Practically drooling on the sheets.”

He slapped your ass and you yelped, your walls fluttering around him like the sting had lit you on fire. It made his cock twitch inside you, made his control slip just a little more.

“Look at you,” he growled. “So fucking messy. Ruined. You were made for this. For me. This pussy—fuck—it’s mine. Say it.”

“M-mine—no—yours,” you gasped, nearly incoherent. “Yours, Sebastian, fuck—please—”

“That’s right,” he said. “Knew you’d be good for me. Knew you’d take it like a slut. My perfect little whore, dripping all over my cock.”

You keened under him, mindless now, and he laughed—dark and pleased—before dragging his hand down your front again, fingers finding your clit.

“Come for me,” he said, pushing into you with brutal rhythm. “Make a mess all over me like the greedy little thing you are.”

You couldn’t even answer. You'd been edged so far that he barely even had to touch you before you shattered around him, crying out so loud it barely sounded human. Your whole body locked up, slick and trembling, muscles clenching tight around his cock in helpless waves.

Sebastian groaned—loud, rough—as you squeezed him so tight he could barely move. He fucked you through it anyway, watching you come undone like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“That’s it,” he growled, fucking into the mess he’d made of you, voice low and breathless and wrecked. “Just like that. Look at you—so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me.”

You sobbed, but it wasn’t over.

“Gonna give me one more,” he said, slapping your clit, and you practically screamed, body jolting violently.

He grabbed your hair again as he rutted into you, sloppy and rough.

“You can take it,” he muttered against your ear. “You will take it. That pretty little cunt’s not done yet.”

Your vision blurred. The burn of overstimulation had you trembling, moaning uncontrollably, tears spilling freely from the corners of your eyes, but you managed to nod.

“Beg for it,” he growled. “Come on. Show me you know who you fucking belong to.”

You tried, but you couldn't even form words—just a desperate, choked sound that barely resembled his name.

Sebastian groaned, his pace messy now, driven by instinct and desperation. His hand dragged up from your clit then pressed flat over your fluttering stomach like he could feel the way you clenched around him from the outside.

“You feel that?” he rasped, voice wrecked. “That’s me, right there, ruining you."

You whimpered, face buried in the mattress, helpless to do anything but take it. Your knees had long since given out, your thighs trembling violently with each thrust.

He could feel your second orgasm starting to build. You started babbling mindless, broken things. His name, mostly. Please, sometimes. Words with no shape, no meaning beyond the desperate tremble in your voice.

Sebastian’s breath hitched at the sound, hips stuttering for just a beat before he found his rhythm again. He leaned over you, the heat of his chest pressing to your back, lips at your ear.

"Come on," he whispered. "Show me. Come for me again like the ruined little slut you are."

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up and a full-body wave that left you limp, sobbing into the sheets. Your cunt clenched so hard around him it punched a broken curse out of his chest.

Sebastian didn’t last another second.

He cursed your name then slammed into you one last time, spilling inside you with a shudder so deep it rattled his bones. His arms caged you in, mouth open at your shoulder, teeth dragging down your skin.

The euphoria was unmatched. Sebastian wasn't sure he'd ever felt anything like it. Not in his life. Not in his darkest fantasies. Nothing came close to the feeling of you like this: boneless and trembling beneath him, full of him, clenching around his cock like your body was still begging for more even after everything he’d given you.

His breath was ragged, chest heaving against your back. His forehead dropped to your shoulder as his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of your breathing.

He sucked a mark onto your neck, grinning. "You feel that? You feel me leaking out of you, sweetheart?”

You nodded weakly, body still twitching as you lay face down into the mattress.

Sebastian groaned, dragging his palm back up to press low against your belly again, possessive and awestruck.

“Fuck,” he whispered, almost reverent. “Stuffed you so full. You’re dripping around me, love. Look at the mess we made. You milked me so well."

Sebastian stayed buried in the heat of you, cock still nestled deep, twitching faintly with overstimulated satisfaction. But then he looked up at the red marks blooming on your wrists, the way your fingers trembled where they were still bound to the headboard.

His chest squeezed.

“Alright,” he murmured, voice softer now, his lips brushing your spine. “Let me get these off, love.”

He reached up, careful and slow as his fingers worked at the knots—lazily, like he wasn’t in a hurry, like he wanted to take his time unraveling you. When the ties slipped loose, he brought your wrists down gently, kissing each one like an apology.

Your arms dropped to the mattress, aching and numb, but his hands were already on you again—massaging gently at your shoulders, down your arms, warming the blood back into you. He whispered something you couldn’t quite hear against your skin. Tender. Worshipful.

Then he leaned in close, voice low at your ear again.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said. “Can you do that?”

You nodded, dizzy and slow, and he helped you—pulling out with a wet, reluctant sound before easing you onto your back. You whimpered at the loss, legs falling open instinctively as you settled into the pillows, wrecked and ruined and still wanting.

Sebastian looked down at you like he was seeing something divine.

Hair mussed. Neck marked. Thighs soaked with him. Your chest rose and fell in shaky breaths, and your eyes—glass-eyed and needy—never left his face.

“Fuck,” he muttered, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He leaned in to kiss you—deep and slow, tongue licking into your mouth like he was trying to taste everything you were feeling. You moaned into it, legs shifting, hips lifting just slightly in instinct

He grinned against your lips.

“Oh,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “You want it again, do you?"

You nodded helplessly, lip caught between your teeth.

He stroked a hand down your stomach, pausing right above your cunt.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Want me to stuff you full again? Stretch you open all over, fill that messy little cunt one more time? Make sure I breed you right?"

You whimpered. “Yes. Please.”

Sebastian’s cock twitched, already hardening again at the sound of your voice, the way you begged for him like you’d never get enough.

“Then be a good girl,” he said, shifting to settle between your legs, guiding the head of his cock back to your soaked entrance. “And suck me clean first."

You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even blink. Just opened your mouth like the obedient, desperate thing he’d made you into.

[iatnen]

I realize I draw best when I draw grumpy guys

[heavenlybodies333]

Don’t make me choose - S.S.

Pairing: fwb!Sebastian Sallow x you

word count: 3k angst; complicated love, seb as quidditch captain

Inspired by: back to friends by sombr

“how can we go back to being friends

when we just shared a bed?

how can you look at me and pretend

I’m someone you’ve never met?”

You hadn’t expected it to be an issue.

For the past month, things with Sebastian had been easy—entirely physical, completely unserious. No expectations, no rules, no awkward post-coital confessions. Just you, him, and whatever empty classroom or abandoned corridor you could disappear into before anyone noticed.

So when you’d been paired with Andrew Larson for your Potions project, you didn’t think twice about canceling on Sebastian. The first night, he hadn’t said much—just rolled his eyes when you told him, muttered something about taking care of things himself. The second night, he seemed more irritated, he wouldn’t have admitted it—probably never would—but the empty space in his bed that night was heavier than usual. He’d had to wrap his own hand around himself, eyes shut tight, imagining the way you’d moan his name. It wasn’t the same.

Not even close.

I mean it wasn’t like you were dating.

But then, the next time you were together, sprawled out on his bed with the scent of sweat and sex still heavy in the air, Sebastian finally said something.

You were pulling your shirt back over your head when he leaned back on his elbows, watching you with a lazy smirk. “So, you and Larson, huh?” You blinked at him, half expecting him to say something filthy, to make some joke but there was an edge to his voice, a tightness to his jaw.

“Yeah?” you said slowly, gathering your skirt from the floor.

“Just funny, is all,” he mused, stretching out, his fingers trailing idly over his stomach. “That you’ve been ditching me for him.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s a Potions project, Seb.”

“Sure.” His tone was light, sarcastic, but something about it made your stomach twist. “Just don’t go making a habit of it, yeah?”

It was a joke. Obviously. Right? But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. and when Quidditch practice rolled around and Sebastian was suddenly all over you, you realized maybe it wasn’t just a joke.

You were out of breath, sweat clinging to your skin, fingers clenched tight around your broom as you hovered in the dimly lit Quidditch pitch. The rest of the Slytherin team had already started landing, some muttering to each other as they stole glances your way. But Sebastian? He was still circling above you, his presence unmistakable, predatory.

You exhaled sharply, dropping to the ground, feet hitting the dirt with more force than necessary. Already in a shit mood from a long night of studying, before you could even turn, his voice cut through the air—sharp, laced with irritation.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said, arms crossed, broom balanced against his hip. “Must be nice to take a few days off.”

You clenched your jaw, are you serious—he was doing this here? now? he was doing it in front of the whole fucking team?

“You know why I wasn’t here.”

“Do I?” He tilted his head. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like someone’s been busy.”

A few of your teammates snickered.

Asshole.

You set your jaw, fingers tightening around your broom. “If you’ve got something to say, Sallow, just fucking say it.”

Sebastian’s eyes darkened. The taunt in his voice turned sharp, dangerous.

“You’re a starting Chaser. You’re expected to be here. So unless you want me to bench you, I suggest you sort out your priorities.”

That. That was bullshit.

Your blood boiled. He knew exactly why you hadn’t been at practice. He was making this a problem.

“As captain,” he drawled, pacing in front of the gathered players, “I expect more from my team.” His sharp gaze flicked pointedly toward you, his lips curling in a smirk. “Some of us have been a little preoccupied lately.”

You clenched your jaw, gripping your broom a little tighter. “Oh, fuck off, Sebastian.”

The team audibly reacted—low whistles, but Sebastian didn’t budge. His broom hit the ground with a dull thud as he stepped closer, forcing you to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

“I just expected more from you,” he said. “Considering I’m the one who made you good enough to be here in the first place.”

That did it. Your jaw clenched, and Sebastian lived for the flicker of annoyance in your eyes.

“Remind me again, Captain,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Does it really bother you that I missed practice, or are you just pissed because I didn’t spread my legs for you this week?”

A murmur rippled through the team. Ominis groaned, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose in disappointment. Imelda looked between the two of you like she was watching a particularly thrilling match.

Sebastian’s grip on his broom tightened. You knew what you were doing—baiting him. You wanted him to snap. But he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction.

Instead, he just leaned in close enough that only you could hear. His breath ghosted your ear, his voice a low, teasing drawl.

“You and I both know,” he murmured, “that if I wanted you on your knees, you’d be there in an instant.”

You clenched your jaw. “What’s your problem?”

Sebastian arched a brow. “My problem? I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that my best Chaser has missed two practices this week. Do you even care about this team?”

Your fingers curled into fists. He knew why you weren’t there. He knew damn well.

“You’re being a dick,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” His voice was loud, drawing more attention.

You clenched your jaw. He was doing this on purpose. Getting under your skin. Making you react.

So you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You plastered on a fake smile, tilting your head. “Nothing, Captain.”

“Are we here to practice, or are we here to listen to you whine?” you said sweetly, reveling in your defiance against him in front of his team. But he didn’t respond. Just turned, barked out an order for the rest of them to start warm-ups, and turned back to you.

Sebastian stood tall, arms crossed, watching you with the same look he gave first-years who thought they could duel him and win.

“Ten laps around the pitch. Fast.”

“Are you—”

“Now.”

You scoffed. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.” The amusement returned to his face, sharp and cutting. “Since you missed practice, you’ve got extra work to do. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to run drills until I say you’re done.”

You rolled your eyes. He was enjoying this—abusing the fact that he was Captain, working you harder than the rest of the team just to prove a point. You knew exactly what he was doing. Pushing you, testing you—trying to get a reaction.

So, you gave him one.

Whispering a hex under your breath, you flicked your wand just as Sebastian moved to mount his broom. His foot caught, sending him stumbling forward, barely catching himself before face-planting into the pitch.

You grinned as laughter bubbled out of you, tossing a smug look over your shoulder as you took off. “Oops.”

The glare he shot you was scorching. “You think that’s funny?”

“Extremely,” you called back, effortlessly weaving through the sky as you began the drill he’d assigned. You were showing off now, flying with ease—years of his grueling training paying off.

Sebastian recovered quickly, launching himself into the air and closing in behind you. “Keep laughing, sweetheart.” His voice was dangerously low, but you could hear the grin in it.

You rolled your eyes. “I will, thanks.”

He chased you through the course, pushing you to your limits. And you loved it. The thrill of the wind whipping through your hair, the rush of adrenaline as you dodged, twisted, dipped through rings of golden light. You were fast, but Sebastian was faster—always had been.

"Is that all you’ve got?" you taunted over your shoulder, dodging a sharp turn as he closed in. Sebastian grit his teeth. He had trained you too well, and now you were using it against him.

But—

You got too cocky.

You cut a little too close to the goalpost, trying to show off, and your broom wobbled beneath you. You gasped, body tilting dangerously forward, nearly slipping—

Sebastian was there before you could hit the ground.

He dove fast, his arms locking around your waist, catching you with ease. Your broom spun away, abandoned as he pulled you onto his own, pressing you flush against him.

He was too warm, his chest solid against your back, the heat of his body sinking into yours as he steadied the broom with one hand and held you tight with the other.

"Fuckin’ hell," he breathed, voice dark with amusement. "That was embarrassing."

"Shut up," you muttered, your face burning.

Sebastian only grinned, his lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe if you actually showed up to practice, you wouldn’t be so shit."

You groaned, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. "Oh, sod off, Sallow."

"Mm," he hummed, angling the broom into a slow descent. "Yet here you are, clinging to me like I’m your bloody savior."

You hated that he was right.

You hated the way your body melted against his, the way your heart was still racing—not just from the near fall, but from him. But you refused to let him win.

So, as he landed smoothly on the ground, you shoved at his chest, untangling yourself from him before he could say anything else.

"Appreciate the save," you said flatly, brushing dirt off your uniform. "But next time, piss off." You unwrapped your gloves taking them off before rolling out your shoulders trying to shake the lingering feeling of his touch.

“Piss off?” he echoed, taking a slow step closer. “That any way to thank the man who just saved your life?”

You could see it now—the way his fingers curled into fists, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He was pissed. Not just annoyed. Not just teasing.

“What exactly is our problem?” He bit out, voice low. You scoffed, shoving past him, “You don’t own me. I can study with whoever the hell I want.”

Sebastian snapped, stepping back like he needed the space. “You’re right. Doesn’t matter who you spend your time with.” His voice was flat now, distant. “Just don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure out what the fuck you want.”

The words landed heavier than they should have. Like he was saying something else entirely.

And the worst part? You had no fucking clue how to respond.

You hadn’t meant to storm straight to Sebastian’s dorm after practice, but somehow, you ended up in front of his door anyway, fists clenched at your sides. You could still hear his words looping in your head. Don’t expect me to sit around waiting for you to figure out what the fuck you want. Like what kind of bullshit was that?

Your knuckles rapped against the wood before you could talk yourself out of it.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there he was—hair damp from a shower, black shirt hanging loose over his lean frame.

Sebastian leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching you with narrowed eyes. "Can I help you?"

You didn’t answer, just stared him down, walking in like you had every right to be here, like you weren’t the one who had stormed in uninvited.

He huffed out a laugh, but there was no real amusement behind it. "Oh, if you’re here to fuck—yeah, I decided we’re not doing that anymore."

You arched a brow. "That so?"

He nodded, smug. "Mhm. You’ve got Larson now, yeah? So have fun with him."

You should’ve been irritated. Should’ve snapped back at him for acting like that was what this was about. But instead, a slow smile curled at your lips.

Because there it was.

Clear as day.

Jealousy.

His smirk faltered. "What the fuck are you smiling about?"

You just shrugged. "No fucking? Fine. Let me crash here, then. I’m tired."

Sebastian blinked. "You’re tired?"

"Exhausted, actually." You moved past him again, already pulling your hair out of its clip, shaking it loose over your shoulders.

He was still standing by the door, clearly trying to piece together what the hell you were doing. "You have your own bed, you know."

You didn’t answer. Just wandered over to his wardrobe like you owned the place, grabbed one of his shirts, and started changing right there in front of him.

His eyes were on you the entire time.

You felt them.

Dragging over your bare skin, lingering as you pulled his shirt over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole.

He let out a sharp exhale. "You’re unbelievable."

You turned to him, all innocence. "What?"

His jaw flexed. "You know what."

You just smiled again, crawling onto his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you’re not gonna fuck me, then at least make yourself useful and turn off the lights."

For a long moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

And then, finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Fucking hell." he turned away, dragging a hand through his damp hair before muttering, “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

You watched as he stalked toward the other side of the bed before turning the lights off, slipping under the covers stiffly, back turned to you.

Oh, he was furious. and you loved it.

Minutes passed. The room was silent except for the steady tick of the clock on the wall. You let the tension simmer—just enough to make him think he was winning—before you shifted, rolling onto your side, your breath ghosting against the back of his neck.

"You really think Larson would fuck me better than you?"

Sebastian's entire body went rigid.

He didn't answer, but you caught the way his fingers twitched in the sheets—caught the sharp exhale through his nose. You smiled against his shoulder, letting your lips brush bare skin.

"Don't worry," you whispered. "I'd never let him."

His breathing quickened. You could feel it—how close he was to snapping—how badly he wanted to flip you over and remind you exactly who you belonged to. But he was stubborn. He always had been.

"You done?" he muttered, voice low and tight.

You traced lazy circles against his arm, nails dragging just enough to leave faint red lines.

"Mm. Not yet."

"Figures."

Another minute passed. His whole body was tense but still, he didn't touch you. Fine. If he wanted to pretend he didn't care—you'd make him suffer for it.

Your fingers slipped lower, trailing down his side—so light he probably would have convinced himself he imagined it if not for the way his breath caught in his throat.

"Sebastian?"

He didn't answer.

"You really done fucking me?"

Nothing.

But you felt the mattress shift beneath you—felt him tense as your fingers dipped under the waistband of his sweatpants, nails scratching lightly against the muscle there.

"I don't think you are."

A sharp breath hissed between his teeth, but still—nothing.

God, he was so predictable.

"You know what's funny?" you whispered, lips brushing his ear. "I think you're more jealous of Larson than I am of Poppy."

You waited for the snap, the inevitable fire that always came when you pushed him too far—but it never came. Instead, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the headboard. “Go to sleep.”

You blinked. “What?”

His eyes dragged back to yours, dark and unreadable. “You heard me.”

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, shifting next to you as though he was suddenly over it. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. So either go the fuck to sleep or get out.”

A huff of annoyance left your lips as you flopped onto your back beside him, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re such a prick.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything, really. Just turned onto his side, facing away from you like this was nothing, like your very presence wasn’t making his pulse hammer against his ribs.

You glared at the ceiling for a long moment before shifting onto your side, staring at the back of his head.

“Seb,” you whispered.

Nothing.

“Sebastian.”

Still nothing.

You pouted. “Can we cuddle?”

“No.”

You hmph’d. “Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

You sighed dramatically, curling into yourself as you shivered beneath the sheets. “I’m cold.”

No response.

“Seb.”

Silence.

You frowned, your eyes narrowing at the back of his neck before a mischievous smirk curled at your lips. Slowly, you shifted beneath the blankets, pressing your icy feet against the bare skin of his calves.

Sebastian jolted violently, a sharp curse ripping from his throat as he recoiled. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, pressing them against him again. “Told you I was cold.”

“For Merlin’s sake—” He groaned, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. “You’re fucking insufferable.”

You just grinned. “So can we cuddle?”

His hand dropped from his face, head lolling toward you with an exasperated glare. But he didn’t fight it this time. Instead, he shifted slightly, his left arm lifting just enough to make space for you.

“Come here,” he said softly.

Your heart gave a traitorous little flutter as you immediately scooted closer, pressing yourself against his side. His arm came down over you, tugging you into his warmth.

The heat of his body was intoxicating, the scent of his skin grounding. He let out a heavy sigh, fingers threading into your hair, smoothing it back as he stared at the ceiling.

“Better?” he murmured.

You hummed in response, pressing your cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, And for the first time, you allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms. The sound of his breath filled your mind as you drifted off, unsure of where the lines between you and Sebastian began or ended anymore.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? Don’t make me choose.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: and the crowd is..confused? Tbh I have no idea what they are😭

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀ��ɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[dvinaamesca]

Kinda feels weird not having the outfit mod now. I'm used to seeing him all glammed up.

[l-littlebird-l]

• A Dirty Birthday •

Sebastian Sallow & Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Sebastian talks Ominis into sneaking in your dormitory at the break of dawn on your birthday. After waking you from little to no sleep, Sebastian proposed a game. The game was simple: You will be blindfolded, testing the limits of your friendship. Guess which one of them is which. If you guess right, the two of them will buy out everything The Three Broomsticks has to offer. If you guess wrong, they get the privilege to do whatever they please with you.

—

On the morning of your birthday, having snatched just a few hours of sleep, you awoke to the distant murmur of voices, a soft blur that drew nearer like mist rolling in. Your tired eyes fluttered as you shifted in your bed, too drained to acknowledge the growing symphony. Suddenly, a sensation enveloped you—a swift tug, and the once-enshrouding blanket slipped away, leaving your skin exposed to a shiver-inducing rush of cold air. A soft "Mmm..." tumbled from your lips, a muted protest, as a pair of hands gently coaxed you out of bed.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Sebastian?” A familiar, soft, unsure voice resonated around you.

“Of course it is, Ominis. Why wouldn’t it be?” A natural grumble of Sebastian’s voice swayed as you found yourself guided with gentle precision towards the heart of your room. Your eyes still heavy with remnants of sleep, remained sealed shut. Your fingers instinctively sought to dispel the veil of haze, rubbing your eyelids tiredly as you wobbled in place.

A quiet sound of Ominis sighing fell before you. Gradually, the tender warmth of hands enveloped your sight from behind, shielding your vision.

“Accio,” the sonorous resonance of wood dragging across the stone floors piqued your awareness. With a deliberate motion, your hand extended upwards, your fingers finding purchase around the wrist that guarded your sight.

You grumbled, the fragments of drowsiness still clinging to your voice, "What’s… the meaning of this?”

“We had an idea last night,” Sebastian’s voice behind you lingered as he guided you into the chair that once was in the corner of your room.

A soft swish within the air brought by Sebastian's incantation, summoned forth a smooth and satin fabric, weaving the cloth of obscurity where his hand once held sway. The fabric settled softly across your skin, its embrace fastened over your lashes, enveloping you in a veil of darkness.

“Really… a blindfold?” Your fingers traced a path along the fabric delicately, adjusting its position. “I find it unfair that only one of us can see.” A wry smile played upon your lips as you voiced your jest, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Ominis only a few steps away.

“We’re going to play a little game…” A tender hand grazed your shoulder, its touch lingering across your flesh as the sound of their footsteps painted circles around you. A warm breath brushed against your ear, carrying Sebastian's voice as he whispered.

"A game..?" You stammered, a note of surprise infusing your voice as your body tensed with his touch.

"We're going to put our friendship to the test," Sebastian’s voice oscillated with certainty. "If you win, a feast of everything The Three Broomsticks has to offer will be yours.”

“Well, that seems harmless enough, but why the blindfold?” A trace of curiosity threaded through your voice.

His fingers curled over your shoulder, accompanied by the enveloping warmth of his presence against your other ear, his dark whisper unfurling, evoking a shiver that crawled up your spine. “You’re going to have to guess which of us is who. Simple enough?” Sebastian’s withdrawal left behind a soft crimson hue that crawled up the back of your nape like a fleeting caress.

A meandering path of warmth, guided by another pair of digits traced a tender route along your cheek, snaking slowly across your skin as they depart from your chin. The air around you stirred with swirling footsteps and a gentle breeze.

“And… if I do this you’ll keep your word?” You asked quietly, a tinge of nervousness laying beneath your breath.

“That’s right,” Sebastian’s voice carried in front of you.

“All that you could desire,” Ominis’ voice materialized against the strands of hair that veils your ear, eliciting a subtle start from you.

You inhaled deeply, your fingers absently toying with the rim of your nightdress, which rested provocatively against your thighs. The fabric, silky and abbreviated, exuded audacity with its scarcity of shoulder straps and delicate thinness. A sense of vulnerability enveloped you, as you found yourself inadequately prepared, denied the opportunity to change before becoming enmeshed in this little game of theirs.

“No need to be nervous, darling. Only one of us can see that risqué shift of yours.” Sebastian remarked with a faint sneer, having shifted from his previous position.

"What is she wearing?" Ominis inquired with a near-stammer, momentarily taken aback by Sebastian's comment.

"Find out for yourself, Ominis." Sebastian said.

"Wait, what?" A jolt coursed through you, causing your heart to quicken.

“Come now, I know you’d be more than willing to let Ominis explore that thin little dress of yours.” Sebastian’s words resonated, their impact sinking deeply as a brush of fingertips traced a fleeting line across your collarbones.

A warm flush swept across your cheeks, stealing your breath away. Your teeth nervously nibbling at your lower lip, yielding no protest. A gentle caress held your cheek, its touch tracing a tender pattern over your heated flesh.

"She's flustered," Ominis said softly, his hand retaining a subtle presence.

Sebastian's derisive tone gibed with a quiet sneer, "Don't make it obvious it’s you touching her.”

Ominis' soft touch withdrew as they both resumed their circling around you once more.

A delicate caress of fingers swept the side of your throat, tucking your hair aside with a low breath blowing against your exposed skin. A hushed gasp slipped past your lips, stirred by the sensation. "Sebastian?" You ventured, your guess accompanied by an attempt to steady your breathing. However, the silence that followed yielded no response.

The warm breath advanced, caressing your neck before settling against your ear, its heat evoking a constellation of goosebumps across your skin. Instinctively, your hand rose to push outward, seeking a presence that seemed elusive. Yet, your hand met only empty air, finding no one in its grasp. Your words faltered, quivering softly. "Ominis..?" You inquired, your voice carrying a trace of uncertainty.

"Do you truly believe Ominis possesses such audacity?" Sebastian's voice, finally positioned behind you, a hint of amusement as he hovered over your shoulder. A subdued snicker following his words. "You don’t know us at all," he taunted, his presence withdrawing as he moved away, their footsteps circling around you once more. You swallowed, the pounding of your heartbeat resounding heavily within your chest.

You felt a soft brush against the bare expanse of your thigh, compelling your nails to grip into the hem of your shift, inadvertently drawing it higher without your awareness.

“Sebastian..?” Your voice hitched through the part of your lips.

“Not this time,” Ominis’ voice lingered as his fingers traced a path along your soft skin, just below the hem of your dress.

"Keep your hand there, Ominis. She likes it,” Sebastian derided, a subtle elevation of your chin, an action seemingly to be his.

"This game is impossible," you murmured, your hand extending to clasp around his wrist, the rhythm of his veins resonating with his heartbeat beneath your touch.

"You wish to win, do you not?" Sebastian's words brushed against your lips. With a hesitant nod, you agreed with a sense of reluctance.

“A change in plans… If you guess wrong then we get the privilege to do as we please with you, free of consequences." Sebastian declared, his tone bearing a knowing darkness.

"Sebastian," Ominis interjected softly, his demur near your thighs.

"It’s only fair, we are paying for her meals after all," Sebastian’s thumb lightly grazes the curve of your bottom lip.

"It’s… fair," you conceded softly, your compliance offered without protest.

The faint sound of a smirk seemed to emanate from Sebastian's lips just before you. His breath slowly dissipates along with the release of his hold beneath your chin. In tandem, Ominis’ subtle touch followed suit, tracing a concluding path along your thigh before pulling away.

A snaking hand brushed against your shoulder once more, drawing the strap of your shift downward. "Sebastian—," you exasperated, knowing full well that touch was his doing.

Suddenly, a hand took hold of your jaw, angling your head back as lips pressed firmly against yours. A soft unexpected moan escaped your lips, mingling with the sensation of his kiss. Your fingers instinctively wrapped around his wrist, his lips embracing the contour of your bottom lip with a delicate touch. As the kiss deepened, your grip around his wrist began to slacken, the allure of the moment eclipsing the game entirely. The tender embrace of the kiss persisted, until eventually he withdrew, leaving you speechless. Your fingers rose to trace the touch that had lingered on your lips, a warmth resonating within you.

"S— Sebastian..?" You muttered with uncertainly, your voice carrying a blend of astonishment and bewilderment, still reeling from the unexpected kiss.

"Wrong," Ominis' voice reverberated beside you, his breath ghosting against your ear and eliciting a shiver running down your spine.

A rustling sound punctuated the stillness, causing your heart to briefly come to a halt. Lips pressed against yours once again, but this time it was different. The kiss was harsh, almost aggressive, characterized by parted lips and a raw hunger. Your gasps intermingled with the press of his lips, his fingers curling into the back of your hair, tightening possessively. A shudder coursed through your frame as his lips captured your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it. The sensation elicited another gasp, which was promptly swallowed by his insistent kiss. His fingers tugged at your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entry and snaking along yours in a heated mess. With a reluctant withdrawal, he released your lips, his fingers still entwined in your hair. His heavy breath mingled with yours, a soft sneer punctuating the charged air around you.

"Failed again," Sebastian reveled, his lips tenderly grazing against yours. "You know what that means?"

Your thoughts swirled recklessly, bounding you in place. A shallow gulp cut through the air of silence as you came to terms with your ignorance, your voice faltering as you accepted defeat.

"You don’t know the own taste of your friends lips?" Sebastian queried, his grip around your hair tightening. As your head was drawn back by his grip, a faint wince slipped your lips.

"How… how could I possibly know that?" You shuddered, your fingers clenching the corner of your chair.

"You've observed Ominis' lips intently enough; I assumed you'd recognize them," Sebastian sneered tantalizingly.

"She what?" Ominis inquired, his curiosity piqued, his fingers trailing tenderly over your thigh once more as if it draws for his attention.

"Sebastian," you asserted, swatting his hand from your hair.

"Why would you suggest such a thing?" You lifted your hand to remove the blindfold, your patience with the game reaching its limits. However, just as your fingers began to curl beneath the fabric, a hand seized your wrists, firmly holding them together in a single grip, preventing any movement.

"You know the rules," Sebastian reminded you with a resolute tone.

A soft chuckle resonated from Ominis beside you as a pair of hands firmly enclosed around your thighs. In response, your thighs pressed together involuntarily, your heart racing from his the touch.

"You were right, Sebastian," Ominis spoke quietly from below, his thumbs circling your skin in a soothing motion.

"I always am," Sebastian retorted, his hold on your wrists tightening.

"Sebastian, is this really necessary? I promise I won’t remove the blindfold," you implored, making an attempt to liberate your wrists from his grip.

"Just a bit longer," he insisted.

Ominis' hands brushed softly against the outer contours of your thighs, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in their wake. A tender kiss landed at the center of your skin, prompting an involuntary sound from your lips. The amusement in Sebastian's hum was evident as his finger inched over your camisole, ultimately drifting down towards the ridge of your clothing. His touch gently glided over your erect nipple, sending a shiver through you. Attempting to tug your wrists free from his grip, you found his hold unwavering as he held them securely above your head.

"Sebastian..." you whispered, your body trembling from just a simple touch.

"My name isn't the one you should be saying with those pretty lips," Sebastian hushed, his fingers traveling along the contour of your breast. Your gown so thin, giving little resistance against his audacious touch. His fingers mold to your supple form, squeezing your breast softly, causing you to draw a sharp breath.

Ominis forcefully parted your legs, eagerly positioning himself between them. His hands maintained a gentle grasp along the outside of your thighs, urging your dress upward. His lips trailed heated kisses across the field of your skin, igniting a cascade of goosebumps that raced across your flesh. The sensation prompted a subtle arch in your back, the tingling touch leaving its fervent burns. A quiet hitch of breath escaped, your lips tinted with lust.

A sudden, unfamiliar warmth pressed against the damp fabric that concealed your intimate core. You attempted to push your thighs together, seeking some semblance of control, but Ominis' hands firmly held them in place. His tongue glided sensually against the soaked fabric, playfully kissing and licking at your clothed folds.

"Ominis..." You moaned softly, your arms going limp within Sebastian's grasp.

"That's it..." Sebastian's grin held a wicked edge as he watched you surrender, completely under their control now.

"Sebastian, she's drenched..." Ominis murmured softly against your clothed folds, his fingers deftly curling beneath the strings that adorned your hips. With a swift tug, he removed your knickers, casting them aside.

"Ominis..." You shuddered, your thighs quivering in response to his audacious behavior. A subtle, almost imperceptible shift widened the gap between your thighs, an invitation conveyed through your trembling body.

“Is that pretty cunt of yours wet for Ominis, or for me?” Sebastian hummed, his words delivered with a sneer. He drew your hands from above your head, placing them against his trousers, your fingers blindly lacing his undeniable hardness pulsating from beneath.

You were rendered speechless, your teeth pressing into your lower lip as you attempt to find composure. Sebastian gently guided your hand, encouraging a stroking motion, eliciting a relieved moan from his lips as you delicately traced your fingers over the outline of his clothed cock.

Ominis extended his tongue, licking a long heated path against your exposed flesh, an overwhelming fire coursing through you. You sighed softly from his touch, your fingers clenched around Sebastian's throbbing arousal, drawing a low growl from him.

Your fingers fumbled along the fabric of his trousers, finding the buttons that concealed his stiffness. You deftly pushed the button through its slit, tugging Sebastian’s trousers down.

"Eager, aren't we?" Sebastian's fingers ran through your hair gently, granting you full control over your actions.

Meanwhile, Ominis pressed his tongue between your slick folds, sliding it up and down your wetness, savoring every inch of flavor. Your efforts to maintain a steady hand grew increasingly difficult as the overwhelming sensations threatened to take control over you. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, enveloping you whole.

You gasped, your hips buckling in response of the intrusion. Your hands quivered against Sebastian's hips as you shakily slid your fingers beneath the hem of his briefs, tugging with a subtle resistance until they yielded. His arousal sprang forward from the release as you enveloped your fingers around his warm veiny cock, pumping it slowly.

Sebastian's head tilted back with a guttural groan, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fuck..." He moaned, his fingers coiling tightly in your hair.

Ominis' tongue continued its relentless path along your clit, inducing a fervent writhing within your seat, nearly pulling away from him in the throes of pleasure. He anchored you firmly in place by hooking his arms beneath your thighs. Your legs draped over his arms, his hands maintaining a secure grip around your hips.

"Oh, fuck... Ominis..." You gasped, your voice ladened with desperation.

Sebastian's patience seemed to wane, forcefully pushing your head down until the tip of his throbbing cock pressed against your lips. His pre-cum warm and sticky.

"Open for me, darling," he commanded, his grip around your hair tightening once more.

You felt his gaze beaming down on you as you slowly parted your lips and enveloped the crown of his cock. Gradually, you descended, taking his length into your mouth at a leisurely pace. His arousal was warm and pulsating, the veins adorning his flesh glided against your tongue perfectly.

"Good girl..." He purred. "If only Ominis could witness what that pretty mouth of yours is doing."

Ominis raised his head, his tongue sensuously licking his lips clean of your lingering wetness. "If only you could taste this pretty cunt of hers," he mused, a note of breathlessness in his voice.

"Fuck, don't tempt me Ominis..." Sebastian exhaled, pushing his length further down your throat, causing you to gag around his cock. Your nails dig into Sebastian's hips as you slowly began bobbing your head, diligently wetting his cock.

"Go easy on her, Sebastian," Ominis urged softly before he descended between your thighs once more, lavishing your soaking core with a series of wet, sloppy kisses. He wrapped his lips around your swollen bud with a delicate touch, suctioning and twirling his tongue around it hungrily.

"Mmph..." You moaned breathlessly against Sebastian's cock, the vibrations of your moan prompting a husky groan from his lips.

"Ah... fuck... keep going," Sebastian demanded, his grip on your hair easing as he subtly pushed his length in and out of your mouth.

Ominis withdrew one arm from around your thigh, softly gliding it along your leg before ultimately pushing his finger into your slick entrance. Your body retracted, a moan instantly escaping around Sebastian's cock. However, Sebastian's firm hold pushed your head further down his throbbing shaft, granting you no reprieve.

"I didn't say you could stop," Sebastian insisted, thrusting deeply down your throat.

Ominis drove another finger forcefully inside you, initiating a relentless pace within your tight core, your legs growing weaker with every breath you take. Ominis quickened his pace, his lips suctioning ravenously around your clit. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of climax, he slowed down, withdrawing his lips from your needy cunt, leaving you hanging on the precipice of orgasm.

"She's close," Ominis hummed, his voice dripping with lust.

Sebastian sneered, drawing you back by your hair from his cock with a wet, suction-like noise. Finally, you could breathe freely again, your chest heaving as you attempted to regain your thoughts.

You felt Sebastian’s grasp around your hair dissipate as Ominis pulled away from your inner thighs. You were left there trembling, your cheeks a fiery shade of red. You inherently reached to remove your blindfold, but gentle hands intervened, preventing you from doing so.

"Wha—," you muttered, a color of confusion resonating within your voice.

"The game isn't over, my dear little bird," Ominis whispered softly, pulling your hands from the cloth that concealed your sight.

To Sabastian’s surprise, Ominis enjoyed this game just as much as he did. You felt the whirl of footsteps around you once more, baffled.

"It's not?" You asked, pouting slightly as you tried to make sense of the situation.

Ominis curled his fingers over your hands, pulling you from the chair. Your legs trembled slightly as you regained your poise.

“You still haven’t guessed which one of us gets to fuck that needy little cunt of yours,” Ominis’ voice carried with an undertone of hunger.

His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you utterly baffled by what he was proposing, even Sebastian seemed caught off guard.

"Oh, so now you think this was a good idea, Ominis?" Sebastian sneered from behind you.

Ominis scoffed. You felt a tug at your hands, proceeding you towards your bed.

"Ominis, you can't just that and then be gentle with her. You're so confusing. Be a rough. It'll keep her guessing," Sebastian suggested, his tone laced with amusement.

"Then you be gentle," Ominis responded cryptically, his voice a soft counterpoint to Sebastian's.

Suddenly, a pair of hands pushed you backward, causing you to gasp as you tumbled onto your bed, the soft mattress providing an unexpected landing.

"Ominis—" you exclaimed, caught off guard by his actions.

"What makes you think that was me?" Ominis retorted softly, leaving you speechless and disoriented.

The two of them seemed to be playing a game of their own, leaving you thoroughly baffled. The weight of one of them settled on the bed behind you, and you couldn't help but grin, thinking you had it all figured out.

"It's much harder to conceal who's who if we're on a bed," your lips curl into a wider smile, confident in your own deduction.

"Is that so?" Ominis responded, his voice now seemingly coming from behind you.

"She thinks she’s got it all figured out," Sebastian taunts, his voice now in front of you, effectively shattering what you thought you knew.

Hands pressed firmly around your throat, tilting your head back into Ominis' shoulder while Sebastian pried your legs apart with a forceful touch. Their roughness left your voice hitching as your heated cavern pools with desire.

Lips crashed against yours with an insatiable hunger, immediately engaging your tongue in a messy dance. You moaned softly into the wet, desperate kiss, your tongue flicking sensuously against his.

Sebastian tugged you towards the edge of the bed, hoisting your thigh up with one hand. His throbbing tip traced a tantalizing path up and down your drenched folds, eliciting a shudder that reverberated through your body and onto the lips that devoured yours.

A sudden push into your core elicited a gasp, Sebastian's cock slowly breaching your entrance. You clung tightly to the bedsheets, biting down on his bottom lip to stifle your moans. The fingers wrapped around your throat squeezed gradually, temporarily cutting off your breath.

"Choke her harder, Ominis," Sebastian groaned, a sinister edge creeping into his voice, as they continued their relentless pursuit.

Your heart raced as you realized it was Ominis who possessed your lips and throat, his nails gently digging into your skin before he released his grip. He turned your head towards the side, his lips trailing from yours down to your throat, leaving a field of wet kisses that elicited soft moans through your parted lips.

Sebastian maintained a slow, steady pace, his cock thrusting in and out of you with an unrelenting rhythm. Your tightness around him caused him to grunt softly. "Fuck..."

Ominis' fingers curled under the hem of your satin shift, gradually pulling it up and over your chest until it halted at your shoulders. His lips, unwilling to part with your neck, left a gentle bite before finally letting go. He removed the rest of the camisole, leaving you completely pure of clothing. His hand circled around your breast, squeezing it gently as he planted butterfly kisses up and down your neck, his lips drawing along your collarbone and trailing across your shoulder.

Sebastian's forceful thrust sent a sharp cry of pleasure escaping your lips as you gripped the bedsheets tightly, your nails digging into the fabric. "Sebastian..." You moaned, biting down on your bottom lip.

He pressed the pads of his fingers into your thighs, leaving faint bruises in his wake as he quickened his pace. "Fuck..." He groaned, his cock pulsating within you. Sebastian’s nails nicked into your skin as he demanded you to say his name again. “Again, say it again.”

"S— Sebastian... fuck..." You gasped, beads of sweat forming across your body as you desperately moaned his name.

"Harder..." You begged, your voice filled with desperation as you fell back limp against Ominis' chest.

Your words sparked a dark fire within him. He slowed his pace, teasingly leaving you yearning for more. Ominis pulled away, allowing Sebastian to take full control. He flipped you onto your hands and knees, the blindfold finally relinquished at long last.

Sebastian's hips slammed into your ass with unbridled force, nearly eliciting a scream from you. He wrapped your hair around his fingers, using it as an anchoring point to thrust his hips vigorously against your body, each powerful movement driving you further to the edge.

“Fuck…” You gasped, your eyes finally laying upon Ominis before you. You watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulls them down along with his briefs, his cock flinging out before you, twitching with desperation. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

Ominis palmed his arousal briefly before pressing the sticky crowned tip against your lustful lips. You eagerly complied, opening your mouth and enveloping your lips around his throbbing cock. The relentless thrusts from Sebastian pushed you forward, forcefully taking in the rest of Ominis’ cock. You gagged, your throat constricting tightly around him.

Ominis’ face usually composed, now bestows a heavy hue of redness within his cheeks, sweat dripping down his jaw with labored breaths. The sight destroyed you.

As Sebastian pounds into you, you felt yourself tightening with each thrust, almost reaching your own limits.

Your mouth worked diligently around Ominis' arousal, a symphony of moans and gasps filling the air alongside Sebastian's powerful thrusts. Ominis ran his fingers tenderly through your hair, cradling the back of your head with each descent into your mouth. The sensations coursing through your body pushed you over the edge, trembling on your knees.

Sebastian's hands gripped around your ass firmly, a loud clasp against your skin sends tears welling within your eyes, a wince formed around Ominis’ cock.

Ominis shuddered, his cock twitching within your mouth as he released his salty mix, filling your mouth completely full, choking on it. His cum dripped from the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin as you struggled to swallow it all.

Sebastian's nails dig into your flesh as his thrusts gradually slowed. "Fuck... I'm gonna cum," he exclaimed, savoring every last second. With a final powerful thrust, he growled deeply, his cock twitching within your defiled cunt, releasing his load deep within you. You fell against the bed, exhausted and breathless. Your cheeks flushed, your eyes fluttering shut, too tired to do anything else. The bedsheets below you formed a tangled mess, adorned with sweat and cum.

Sebastian gradually eased his hips, thrusting gently in and out of your cunt before withdrawing. A trail of his cum leaked down your trembling thighs, you couldn't help but emit a soft, satisfied moan from the tingling sensation.

Sebastian's sinister snicker sliced through the air, his words dripping with tantalizing satisfaction. "Such a good little slut for us, aren't you?"

“But we’re not done with you yet,” Ominis’ voice resonated with a tinge of dissatisfaction.

Your weary eyes fluttered open, tracking Ominis as he silently circled the bed and assumed the position behind you. With an effort, you rolled onto your side, tracing his every movement, weakly muttering, "What do you mean you're not finished..?"

"Isn't it obvious, darling?" Sebastian's voice floated around the bed as he takes Ominis’ previous position.

You tilted your head back, catching a glimpse of Sebastian hovering over you as you finally turn onto your back. He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe as he whispered softly, "Ominis didn't get to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours."

Shock and realization rippled through you as you turned your focus back to Ominis.

Ominis wraps his hands around your welted thighs and pulled you closer to his hips, his grip firm on your thighs, his eagerness palpable as his cock twitched in suspension.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, your voice reduced to a feeble breath. "Ominis...”

With his fingers wrapped around his base, he teasingly traced the tip of his cock along the outskirts of your entrance. "Hmm… Aren't you curious? To have my cock deep inside you?" He pushed his tip just barely inside your cunt, eliciting a deep arch of your back as your head sank into the mattress, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck..." You gasped, your body responding despite the fatigue.

The crown of Ominis' cock finally penetrated, your hips involuntarily buckled as your fingers trembled at your sides.

"Ominis, please..." You begged, swaying your hips subtly.

"Hmm? What was that?" He teased, towering over you, pushing just a little further inside.

Sebastian's hand trailed a course down your bare body, his fingertips skimming your midriff until they found their destination. Goosebumps rippled across your flesh, curling your toes as your heart begins to race harder.

"Please..." You begged louder, your panting growing more urgent. "Fuck me, Ominis..."

Ominis’ lips curled into a grin as he pushed himself forcefully into you, eliciting a desperate cry from your lips. Sebastian’s fingers began circling your clit while his other hand found its way around your breast, relentlessly kneading your supple mount.

Your voice hitched from the overwhelming sensations. Ominis' cock fit perfectly within your tight, messy cunt. His movements a bit ragged compared to Sebastian’s smoother stride.

"Oh fuck—" You gasped, your hand reaching down towards Sebastian's wrist as he rolled the pad of his middle finger over your swollen clit, causing you to moan their names.

"Such a good little slut," Sebastian whispered against your ear. "You like it when Ominis fucks that cunt of yours?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, squeezing your eyes shut as you frantically nodded.

"I didn't hear you," he growled against your ear.

"I... I..." You panted, unable to form coherent words.

Ominis slowed his pace, his form hovering above your, supported by his arms pressed into the bed. He questioned you with a dark tone, "You like it better with Sebastian's cock inside you, then?" His thrusts became increasingly intense, causing you to wince from the force.

"Oh fuck—" You yelped, almost certainly echoing within the corridors of the castle. You struggled for words as they both played with your senses relentlessly.

"Which one?" Ominis’ voice lowers in tone, almost an animalistic sound, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.

You shuddered your nails digging into Sebastian’s wrist with a clouded mind. "Ominis— fuck..."

Sebastian sneered, observing you as you succumb to their little game. His lips met your breast, kissing and licking your pink bud softly while his finger continued to work on your clit, driving you closer to the edge. Your cunt tightened desperately around Ominis' cock as you felt yourself nearing your limits.

Beads of sweat dripped from Ominis' hair, falling against your midriff as he found the perfect rhythm. Sebastian's lips wrapped around your nipple, his tongue circling it, reflecting the movement of his hand below. Your body tensed slowly as your heart pounded within your chest.

"Oh fuck… I'm… I'm close…" You exclaimed breathlessly, your cunt tightening around Ominis' cock.

Sebastian's teeth grazed against your nipple as he deliberately slowed his finger down, prolonging your climax. He bit down softly, watching your visage as you approached the edge.

"Fuck…" Ominis growled, reaching his climax as well. Your head pressed back into the mattress, eyes rolling behind your lids as a surge of electricity raced up your legs, culminating where your two bodies meet. Euphoria washed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure as you gasped recklessly.

Your moans and gasps filled the air as you both climaxed. Ominis filled your cunt, overflowing onto the bed, causing a sticky mess. You found yourself completely unable to move, too tired to even think. You lay there in your own pool of cum and sweat, your chest heaving and your body quivering from exertion.

Ominis slowly pulled out, his cum dripping from his tip, falling beside you in bed with Sebastian on the other side of you. All three of you were exhausted. Sebastian brought his fingers toward his lips, licking his fingers clean of your sweet flavor with a smack of his lips.

"Mmm… you were right, Ominis. She does taste good," he smirked, his cock twitching from the delicious taste of you swirling around his tongue.

Ominis clasped his hand around the base of your neck and pulled you in close, his eyes effortlessly peering into yours despite his lack of sight.

"Happy Birthday," he said with a gentle press of his lips against yours.

"Can't wait for next year," Sebastian added, planting a wet kiss against your thigh.

Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you as you let out a soft, weary sigh. Your mind unable to conjure even the slightest inkling of what elaborate plans they might have in store for you.

[lavenderandturpentine]

Sebastian: Are you a broom?

MC: No, of course not. Why would you say that?

Sebastian: Because you’ve managed to sweep me away.

Sebastian: Or should I say off my feet?

MC: Oh, Sebastian.

Ominis: That one was painful to listen to…

[gyattoru]

Sebastian is so melancholically beautiful I don’t even know how to explain it.

(he just spent the whole game mogging everyone)

[crystal-kiri]

If you want to get the most out of your time at Hogwarts, you're going to need to break the rules now and then."

~ Sebastian Sallow

[serpentsillusion]

Sebastian “get pulverized by a troll” Sallow

Jess just completely stood by and let it happen too. Duck and roll bro, duck and roll. He didn’t get the assignment. T-T

[sallows-legacy]

Them: Stop romanticizing Hogwarts Legacy

Me: But……

[deathlysallows]

That SWARM of butterflies, though.. 🦋 🦋 🦋

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Misunderstandings | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

@preeyas-world my humble offering as per your request!

Words: ~4,600

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance, Happy Ending

The first time you noticed it, you told yourself it was nothing.

Sebastian had always been the kind of person people were drawn to—charming, quick-witted, impossible to ignore. He had friends beyond your shared circle, people he spent time with when you weren’t around. That was fine. Healthy, even. You weren’t the type to demand his attention every waking moment, nor did you want to be.

But then there was Lillian Thornton.

At first, it was small things. A glance across the Great Hall, a study session in the library. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sebastian was friendly, and Lillian was in your year—Slytherin, well-bred, elegant in the way you weren’t. She carried herself with effortless grace, always dressed in pristine, perfectly pressed robes, always speaking in that refined, poised tone that made people listen.

You had no reason to feel threatened.

But then it became more.

It started with the little things. The moments where he was late to meet you outside class because he had gotten caught up talking to her. The times he promised he’d help you with an essay but got sidetracked and never showed up. The way his eyes lingered on her when she spoke, as if he were truly listening, when lately, he barely seemed to hear you.

At first, you tried to be rational.

Sebastian was just being himself—helpful, charismatic. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You were overthinking.

So you brushed it off.

You ignored the slight sting when he laughed at something she said across the common room but barely reacted when you told him a story. You forced yourself to smile when he mentioned her in passing, pretended it didn’t bother you that her name kept slipping into conversations more and more. You reminded yourself that he was yours. That he loved you.

Sebastian was still affectionate. He still kissed you before class, still let his fingers skim over yours under the table at meals. He still called you love in that warm, effortless way.

But something had changed.

He was distracted.

It was in the way his attention drifted when you spoke, like he was only half-listening. In the way he was always one step behind—laughing at a joke a second too late, responding to questions with absentminded nods, forgetting things he never would have forgotten before.

You had tried to be rational. You had tried to trust him.

But doubt, once planted, was a treacherous thing.

The moment it all unraveled, you hadn’t even meant to find them.

It had been a long day. You had been tired, drained, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you. All you had wanted was to grab a book from the library and go back to the common room. That was all.

But then you saw them.

Tucked away in a secluded corner, books spread between them, heads close together as they whispered. Lillian was laughing, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned in. And Sebastian—Sebastian was smiling.

Not the polite, casual smile he gave acquaintances. The real kind. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes, the kind he used to reserve for you.

And then she touched his arm.

It was subtle. Barely anything at all. Just a hand resting lightly on his sleeve, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric. But what shattered you was that he didn’t move away.

You felt something crack inside you.

It wasn’t anger that hit you first—it was nausea. A hollow, gut-wrenching feeling that made it hard to breathe.

Because this—this was the moment you had been dreading. The moment your worst fears solidified into something real.

Sebastian was slipping away from you, and he didn’t even notice.

So, without a sound, you turned and left.

By the time you made it outside, the lump in your throat had tightened into something unbearable. Your legs carried you on instinct, leading you away from the castle, away from the suffocating weight pressing down on your chest.

It wasn’t until you passed a group of Ravenclaws in the courtyard hat you realized you were crying.

You could feel it now, the hot, silent tears slipping down your cheeks. The way your breath hitched every time you tried to swallow down the ache in your throat. The Ravenclaws exchanged glances as you passed, murmuring in hushed voices. One of them—a younger girl, maybe a third-year—looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, like she wasn’t sure if she should say something.

But you didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper.

Nothing they said could hurt more than this.

The lake was ahead, the water stretching out into the dark horizon, reflecting the scattered stars above. It was quiet here, far from the hum of conversation and laughter that still lingered in the castle.

This had always been your place. Your safe haven.

You sank down onto the cool earth beneath your usual tree, curling in on yourself as the weight of it all crashed over you.

It should have been such a small thing. Just a smile. A simple moment between two people studying together. Something you wouldn’t have thought twice about a few months ago. Something that shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

Because it wasn’t just about the smiling.

It was every small thing, every moment, every hesitation, every inch of distance that had crept in between you and Sebastian over the last few months, piling up until you collapsed under the weight of them.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms tightly around them as you stared out at the lake, watching the way the dark water rippled in the moonlight. The ache in your chest grew heavier with every thought that surfaced, memories stacking on top of each other, twisting into something painful.

Hadn’t things been different before? Hadn’t he been different before?

You tried to pinpoint the moment things had changed, but there wasn’t one moment—it was a slow unraveling, a series of little shifts so gradual you hadn’t noticed until now.

Like how you hadn’t been together as much lately. Not in the ways you used to be.

Sebastian had always been touchy—always slipping an arm around your shoulders, pressing absentminded kisses to the side of your head, tugging you into his lap when you were studying together in the Undercroft. he had never been able to keep his hands off of you when you were alone.

But now? Now he was too tired, too distracted, always promising later—but later never seemed to come.

And you had ignored it. You had convinced yourself it was just stress, that seventh year was demanding for both of you, that maybe you were reading too much into it. But now, as you sat by the lake, those thoughts turned into something worse.

What if it wasn’t stress at all? What if he had stopped touching you because he was touching her instead?

A shudder wracked through you, a bitter, sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

How many times had he been late to meet you for studying? For Hogsmeade trips? For dates he promised he wouldn’t forget? How many times had he made an excuse—something about Ominis, or a professor keeping him after class, or an essay he had forgotten about?

Was that all it had been? Or had he been sneaking off with her instead? Had he kissed her? Touched her? Had he pressed her against the walls of a hidden corridor, tangled his hands in her perfect curls the way he used to with you? Had he whispered the same things into her ear, the ones that used to send shivers down your spine?

The thought sent a sharp, breathless pain through your ribs, like something inside you had cracked clean through.

You had always trusted Sebastian.

Had loved him, wholly and completely, even when he made mistakes, even when he was reckless and impossible and difficult. You had always believed in him.

But now you weren’t so sure.

The thought alone made your chest cave in on itself. This was Sebastian. The boy who had sworn he’d do anything to keep you safe. The boy who used to hold you close as if he was afraid you’d disappear. The boy you loved. Trusted.

But that trust had cracks in it now, fragile and splintering under the weight of doubt.

You swallowed thickly, willing yourself to stop the spiral. To just breathe. But your thoughts wouldn’t let up, tearing through you like an open wound.

And then—

"There you are."

Sebastian’s voice cut through the quiet, and your entire body locked up. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted your head, your heart lurching painfully.

He stood a few feet away, his brows drawn together in concern, his cloak slightly askew as if he’d rushed here. The dim glow of the moonlight cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features—the sharpness of his jaw, the tension in his expression.

Sebastian took a step closer, breath slightly uneven. "I—uh—I ran into Samantha Dale. She said you looked upset, and then you weren’t in the common room, so—"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, his expression shifting as his gaze landed on your face.

His whole body tensed.

"Shit—are you crying?"

The words came out rough, raw. Almost panicked. And before you could react, he was moving toward you, closing the distance between you with quick, determined strides.

"Hey, hey—what’s wrong? Talk to me, love." His voice softened as he reached for you, hands outstretched like he was about to gather you into his arms. "Come here—"

"Stay away."

Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it stopped him dead, his hands hovering in the space between you, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

You swallowed hard, shifting back against the tree, every inch of you suddenly aching with exhaustion. "Just… don’t touch me."

A flicker of hurt crossed his face, barely concealed beneath the confusion. His mouth opened slightly, like he was going to argue, but then he really looked at you. At the tear tracks staining your cheeks. The way you were curled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your legs like you were trying to keep yourself from unraveling completely.

Something in his expression shifted. Slowly, he lowered his hands. "Did… did I do something?"

You let out a breathless, humorless laugh. "I don’t know, Sebastian." You met his gaze then, voice shaking. "Did you?"

His face paled slightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You exhaled shakily, looking back at the lake. The reflection of the stars blurred in the water, their edges rippling as a cold breeze drifted through.

"I don’t want to do this right now," you murmured, voice strained.

Sebastian hesitated, and for a brief second, you thought he might listen, but then he stepped closer again. "No. I think we need to."

You closed your eyes, swallowing the fresh wave of emotion rising in your throat. And then, in a quiet, broken voice, you asked, "Are you in love with her?"

The question hung in the air, heavier than the weight on your chest.

Sebastian’s breath caught, his entire body going rigid. "What?"

You turned to look at him, your vision blurred with tears. "Lillian." You exhaled shakily. "Are you in love with her?"

Sebastian’s face twisted into something like horror. "What the hell are you talking about?"

You laughed then, a short, bitter sound. "I saw you with her in the library, Sebastian."

He blinked, caught completely off guard. "That’s what this is about? We were studying—"

"Oh, studying?" You cut him off, voice thick with hurt. "Is that what you were doing when she touched you? When you smiled at her like that?"

Sebastian’s mouth opened, then closed again.

His silence was enough.

You let out a shaky breath, looking away. "I should have known."

"No— Sebastian stepped forward quickly, desperation lacing his voice. "No, love, it’s not like that. It’s not—"

"Then what is it like, Sebastian?" You turned back to him, your voice breaking. "Because I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you’ve been pulling away, why you don’t see me anymore, why I feel like I have to fight just to be something important to you."

Sebastian shook his head, exhaling sharply as he ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t—I don’t even know where this is coming from.”

You let out a breathless laugh, bitter and disbelieving. “You don’t know?”

His eyes flickered, hesitating. “We were just—”

“Studying, yeah, I heard you the first time.” You inhaled shakily. “That’s not the point, Sebastian. This isn’t just about what I saw tonight. This is about months of you pulling away.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but you weren’t finished.

“At first, it was small things,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “You forgot my Quidditch match. No big deal, right? But then you started forgetting other things. Like our Hogsmeade plans. Like the fact that Thursdays are the one night I don’t study in the library. Like how I hate chamomile tea, and you’ve been handing me a cup of it every single morning without even thinking.”

Sebastian flinched, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to protest—but he didn’t.

“You used to see me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Now I feel like I have to fight just to be something important to you.”

Sebastian’s face twisted, his jaw clenching. “That’s not true.”

"Then why does it feel like I’m losing you?"

Sebastian flinched. "You're not! I—I love you."

"Really? Because you don’t look at me the way you used to." Your voice cracked, but you pushed through. "You used to—Merlin, Sebastian, you used to look at me like I was the only person in the room. And now?" You shook your head, eyes burning. "Now, I see that look when you’re with her."

Sebastian’s expression twisted in terror. "That’s not—"

You inhaled shakily, forcing yourself to keep going, even as it hurt. "You used to want me, Sebastian." The words felt raw, scraped straight from the depths of your chest. "And now, we hardly ever have sex anymore. We hardly touch anymore."

Sebastian looked like you had just ripped the air straight from his lungs. "That’s not—I do want you." His voice broke slightly at the end, panicked, desperate.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. "Then why do you hesitate now?"

Sebastian’s hands clenched at his sides. "I don’t—"

"You do." Your breath hitched. "Every time we’re alone, every time I reach for you, you pull away just a little bit. I feel it." You let out a sharp breath, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. "And yet with her, you never pull away."

Sebastian went rigid, his dark eyes flashing with something sharp, something defensive.

"That’s not—"

"Don’t lie." Your voice cracked, but you didn’t back down. "I see it. Everyone sees it. She touches you, and you let her. She leans in too close, and you don’t move away. She looks at you like you belong to her, and you—" Your throat tightened. "And you just let her."

Sebastian’s entire body went rigid.

You inhaled sharply, wiping at your eyes, even though the tears kept coming. "I trusted you, Sebastian." Your voice trembled, but you held his gaze. "I told myself over and over that I was imagining things. That I was being paranoid. That you loved me, and that was enough." You swallowed hard. "But love isn’t supposed to feel like this."

Sebastian’s face crumpled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I do love you."

"Then why does it feel like I have to compete for you?" You shook your head, voice breaking. "You used to tell me everything. Now I don’t even know where you are half the time. I used to be the person you looked for in a crowded room, and now—" A broken breath left your lips. "Now, I feel like a ghost to you."

Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting into something like shock, like you had just reached inside his chest and torn something out with your bare hands.

"That’s not—" He stopped, his voice catching, and before you could stop him, he surged forward, hands cupping your face with a desperation that made your chest cave in on itself.

"You listen to me right now." His voice was rough, unsteady, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, catching on the remnants of your tears. "I have never stopped wanting you. Never."

You inhaled sharply, your hands coming up to grip his wrists, but you didn’t pull him away.

His breath was uneven, warm against your skin. "I love you. I love you so fucking much, and I—" He shut his eyes for a moment, exhaling shakily. "I didn’t realize I was making you feel like this. I swear to you, I didn’t."

Sebastian’s hands trembled against your skin, his breath uneven as he held your face between his palms. His dark eyes were frantic, pleading, like he could hold everything together if he just held on tightly enough.

Because this wasn’t like the petty fights you had before. This wasn’t something he could just charm his way out of with a teasing smirk and a stolen kiss. This was you, looking at him like you didn’t recognize him anymore.

You swallowed, hating how small your voice sounded. "Why are we even together when it's obvious you'd rather be with her?"

Sebastian was panicking.

You saw it in the way his lips parted like he was gasping for air, in the way his hands trembled as they held your face, in the wide, frantic look in his eyes like he was watching something he loved slip through his fingers. And thhen his knees buckled, and he fell.

Fell hard.

He was on the ground before you could react, his breath ragged, his shoulders shaking. "No—no, please, love, don’t say that." His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don’t—don’t tell me this is it. You’re not—" His breath hitched, his grip on you tightening just slightly. "You’re not breaking up with me, are you?"

You exhaled shakily, overwhelmed, aching, your mind screaming at you to step away before this hurt even more. Sebastian didn’t let you.

"Please," he whispered, voice hoarse. "I love you. I love you so fucking much, and I am infinitely sorry for ever making you feel like I didn’t." His forehead dropped against yours, his entire body trembling. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. I swear to you, I will."

Your throat tightened, your hands hovering over his wrists. "Sebastian…"

His grip on you was desperate. "I should have told you sooner. I should have never let it get this far."

Your body went rigid. "Told me what sooner?"

Sebastian pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own glassy with unshed tears. "God, love, it's... you’ve got it all wrong," he breathed, shaking his head. "I understand how it looked buut you have to believe me when I say—this isn’t what you think."

Your throat tightened. "Then explain to me what the hell this is, Sebastian. Because it looks pretty fucking clear to me."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, like he was bracing himself. Then—

"Lillian is in love with Anne."

The words hit you like a freight train. You blinked, staring at him, your mind struggling to process what he had just said. "What?"

Sebastian swallowed, nodding, his voice quieter now, but still urgent. "She’s in love with Anne. She has been for years. And Anne—" He took a shaky breath. "Anne… she likes women, too."

You stiffened.

Sebastian’s hands dropped from your face to your shoulders, his fingers tightening just slightly, grounding you. "You know what the world is like, love." His voice was barely above a whisper now. "You know how people see that, how dangerous it is for her."

Your chest tightened. "Sebastian—"

"Lillian wanted to know everything about Anne—what she liked, what made her smile, what made her laugh. She wanted to be sure before she risked everything by telling her." He let out a heavy breath. "I was helping her figure out how to do it. That’s all. That’s all it ever was and ever has been."

You stared at him, your mind reeling. Suddenly, every touch, every whispered conversation, every lingering glance between Sebastian and Lillian took on a completely different meaning.

She hadn’t been flirting with him, she had been leaning on him. The looks weren’t full of romantic affection—they were full of trust.

The physical closeness, the secret meetings, the time spent together—it wasn’t about Sebastian at all. It was about Anne.

Sebastian swallowed hard. "That’s why I spent so much time with her. That’s why we got close." He looked at you, pleading, begging you to believe him. "She... she makes me feel closer to Anne." His voice broke. "She reminds me of her."

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. You had spent months drowning in doubt, in fear, in heartbreak—when all along, the truth had been something you never could have guessed.

Your fingers curled into his cloak, gripping the fabric tightly, trying to ground yourself.

"You're not fucking with me are you?"

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his dark eyes wide, desperate, full of something too raw to be anything but real.

"No," he said, shaking his head fervently. "God, no. I would never—I could never lie to you about this."

The sincerity in his voice, in his expression, in the way his hands clutched at your shoulders like he was terrified you might disappear—it was real.

But you were still trying to wrap your mind around it.

Lillian. Anne. Everything.

Your breath came shakily, the pieces clicking together, reassembling into something that was so painfully obvious now that you had the truth.

Anne, who had never shown much interest in the boys who flirted with her. Anne, who had always held herself at a slight distance in conversations about courtship. Anne, who had never once spoken about wanting a husband.

You had assumed it was grief. That losing her parents, losing her old life, had left her uninterested in romance. But this…

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the emotions rising in your throat.

Sebastian watched you, his entire body tense, waiting, his breath uneven. "I know—I know I should have told you." His voice was hoarse. "But Lillian didn’t want anyone to know. Anne definitely didn’t want anyone to know. She’s been scared, and—"

"I get it," you said softly, the words trembling on your tongue, uneven, but true.

And you did.

Of course, you wished he had told you. Wished he had trusted you enough to let you in, to explain instead of letting you drown in your own worst thoughts. But at the same time, you understood why he hadn't.

It wasn't his secret to tell. He had been protecting Anne. Protecting Lillian. But…

"But still," you murmured, voice thick with emotion. "I just… You let me believe I was losing you." Your voice cracked slightly. "For months, Sebastian. And this still doesn’t entirely explain why you've been so... so distant."

Sebastian flinched, his gaze dropping to the ground.

You exhaled shakily, the weight of it all pressing down on you. "Because even if Lillian wasn’t what I thought, you did pull away. You did stop looking at me the way you used to. You hesitated when I touched you. You forgot me." Your voice broke, and you swallowed down the thick lump rising in your throat. "And that has nothing to do with Lillian or Anne."

Sebastian inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment before dragging his hands through his hair, visibly unraveling in front of you. His chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath, like he was struggling to get the words out.

"I was scared."

You stiffened.

Sebastian let out a rough breath, shaking his head. "Not of you," he rushed to say. "Not of us. But of… of everything after this."

You blinked at him, not understanding. "After what?"

Sebastian exhaled, his jaw tightening. He looked away for a moment, then back at you. His voice was hoarse when he said, "After Hogwarts."

Your stomach twisted.

Sebastian swallowed thickly, his voice raw. "I don’t know what happens next," he admitted. "I don’t know where we go after this—what our lives look like when we leave this place. What if we… drift apart? What if life pulls us in different directions? What if—" He inhaled sharply, his fists clenching like he wanted to punch something. "What if I lose you?"

You felt your breath hitch.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Part of me thought… maybe if I distanced myself now, maybe if I stopped needing you so much, it wouldn’t hurt as badly if we had to say goodbye."

You stared at him, your heart twisting. "Sebastian—"

"I thought I was preparing myself," he murmured.

You inhaled sharply, your fingers twitching at your sides. "You know your logic doesn't make any sense right?"

Sebastian let out a breathless, broken laugh, his face crumpling. "I know."

"And you do realize that pushing me away just made everything worse?"

Sebastian swallowed thickly, nodding. "Yeah, love. I’m painfully aware."

Your chest ached. There was a part of you that still wanted to be angry, still wanted to hold on to the hurt he had caused, but looking at him now—really looking at him—you saw a boy who was just as lost as you had been. Afraid. Unsure. But never unloving.

You let out a slow, unsteady breath. "You can’t do that to me again."

Sebastian’s expression shattered further,

"I won’t," he whispered, his voice raw. "I swear I won’t. I love you more than anything. I'm so sorry."

Your throat tightened, your eyes burning.

Because you believed him.

Not because he was desperate, not because he was begging, but because the way he was looking at you now—like you were everything, like you were the air in his lungs, the only thing tethering him to the world—was the way he had always looked at you before all of this.

The way he should have been looking at you all along.

You exhaled sharply, your emotions still tangled, still raw, but your body had already made its decision before your mind had caught up.

You leaned forward, and Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body going rigid. And then, carefully, cautiously, you lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck.

At first contact, Sebastian's arms slammed around you, pulling you against him with a desperation that knocked the breath from your lungs. His face buried into your shoulder, his body trembling against yours.

For the first time in months, it felt like home.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you." His voice cracked. "I love you so much, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You swallowed hard, pressing your face into his neck. "Good," you whispered. "Because you’re going to have to."

Sebastian let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding through him, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go.

And this time, you knew he wouldn’t.

[newbienewness]

So..I saw the new trailer of Bridgerton...and...yeah..enjoy

[heavenlybodies333]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x you

There was an art to it, you know.

The first time Sebastian Sallow killed, it had been for revenge. Blood soaked the floorboards of a dusty old crypt, pooling at his feet, and something in him had changed. He hadn’t meant to savor it, but he did. The way the light left Solomon’s eyes, the way his chest barely shuddered with his final breath—it had fascinated him. Consumed him.

Murder was supposed to be a sin. An act of desperation. A failure of morality. But for Sebastian, it was something else entirely.

It was beautiful.

It was an art form.

And you?

You were his masterpiece.

You had always known there was something wrong with Sebastian.

Even before he crossed the line, before he killed and kept killing, you had sensed it. The sharp edge of his obsession, the way his eyes would linger too long, the possessive weight of his touch, even in innocent moments. He was a boy who took what he wanted—consequences be damned.

And what he wanted, more than anything, was you.

It started with whispers in the corridors, a presence at your back when you swore you were alone. A flicker of movement in the corner of your vision. You’d turn, and there he’d be. Watching. Waiting. A smirk curling his lips when you shivered under his gaze.

Then came the gifts. A silver locket, its chain too delicate for the brutality of his hands. A book, its margins lined with notes in his careful script. A single, freshly plucked rose left on your pillow, petals dark as spilled ink.

You told yourself it was nothing. That he was simply… persistent. That he had always been this way.

Until the bodies started showing up.

At first, they were distant names. People you didn’t know, people who—according to Sebastian—deserved it. A snatcher found with his throat slit. A poacher crushed beneath the weight of a fallen tree. The Ashwinders who had tried to corner you outside Hogsmeade, their bodies discovered in the river days later.

You wanted to believe it was coincidence.

But the gifts returned. A ring—antique, tarnished silver—too large for your finger. You recognized it. It had belonged to a man who had tried to curse you in Knockturn Alley. A man who had vanished the night after.

The truth was undeniable when you found the note.

It was folded delicately, its edges still crisp as you peeled it from the bottom of your bag, hidden in the folds of your cloak. The words were simple, scrawled in the same elegant script as the book he had given you:

I’ll keep you safe. Trust me. I’ll make sure no one hurts you. I’ll take care of all of them.

The parchment trembled in your hands, but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or something far more dangerous. Something darker.

You should have gone to Professor Weasley. To Ominis. To anyone. But instead, you did nothing.

Because the truth—the unspeakable, wretched truth—was that some part of you liked it.

The way he followed you like a shadow, a guardian made of silk and steel. The way his hands lingered when he touched you, the possessiveness thrumming beneath every brush of his fingers. The way his voice dipped when he whispered your name, thick with something ruinous.

He never did things halfway. If Sebastian loved, he consumed. If he wanted, he took. If he killed—he murdered.

Sebastian’s obsession deepened with every passing day.

So, finally—finally—you acknowledged him.

You found him waiting for you outside the library.

He straightened when he saw you, a flicker of something feral in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

"Sebastian," you smiled, stepping closer. He tensed, just barely, before forcing himself to relax, smoothing a hand down his tie. His fingers trembled when he reached up to fix his collar, though he tried to make it seem casual.

You should have been afraid. You should have run.

Instead, you reached out. Lightly, just barely, your fingertips ghosted over the sharp edge of his jaw. He exhaled, unsteady. A shiver ran through him.

"You’re always watching me," you said, voice soft but knowing.

His throat moving as he swallowed. “You notice?”

"Of course I do."

Sebastian licked his lips, a flush rising in his cheeks. He was nervous. The boy who had killed for you—nervous.

You should have been unnerved by the realization. Instead, you found it unbearably sweet.

“I—” He hesitated. Shifted on his feet. For all his confidence, for all his darkness, there was something painfully boyish about the way he looked at you now. Hopeful. Wanting.

"You went through a lot of trouble for me, didn't you?" you mused.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his control fracturing. "I'd do it again." And you knew he meant it. He would ruin himself for you. He already had.

When he invited you to his room, you expected something simple.

A quiet conversation. Maybe a stolen moment of touch, something hesitant and unsure.

You didn’t expect the candles. The table, set meticulously with food pilfered from the Great Hall—your favorites, roast, potatoes, cauldron cakes, pumpkin fizz, each one carefully chosen. The soft, flickering glow painted the walls in warm shadows, the scent of parchment and pine wrapping around you as you stepped inside.

Sebastian stood stiffly by the table, watching your reaction, hands twitching at his sides.

"You—" Your lips parted, the laughter bubbling before you could stop it. "Did you… set up a date for us?"

The tips of his ears went red. He scoffed, shifting his weight, trying desperately to look unaffected. "I—well, I wanted—it's not—”

He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. His fingers were unsteady, his jaw clenched, his breath just a little too sharp.

It was adorable.

This boy—this boy who had slit throats and crushed bones, who had whispered your name into the dark like a prayer—was blushing.

And Merlin, you loved it.

"You did all this for me?" you said quietly, letting your fingers ghost along the silk of his tie before pulling away.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, as if you had done something far worse than merely touch him. His hands clenched at his sides. "Of course I did."

You smiled softly, letting your gaze drag over the room again—the careful arrangement of candles, the meal he had gone to great lengths to prepare.

"You know," you mused, watching him from beneath your lashes, "I don’t think anyone’s ever gone through so much trouble just to impress me."

A flicker of something darker passed over his face. Not anger—no, something deeper. Something possessive.

"Then they were fools," he said simply.

Your heart stuttered. Because there was no hesitation. No doubt. Sebastian meant every word.

His breath hitched when your fingers gently brushed through his hair, fixing the stray curl that had fallen over his forehead.

Sebastian stilled and to your utter delight, the flush that rose to his cheeks was immediate—his fair skin betraying him with a soft, delicate pink that deepened when you tilted your head, watching him.

You leaned in, lips barely ghosting over his ear. "You’re blushing, Sebastian." He let out a breath, sharp and shaky, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, his hands curled into fists at his sides. Restraint. Control.

Your fingers trailed down, tracing the line of his collarbone, then lower, teasing the top button of his shirt.

"All this effort," you drawled, fingers slipping beneath the fabric, nails just barely scraping. "And you’re nervous?"

Sebastian inhaled sharply, his jaw going tight. "I—"

"You kill for me," you teased. "And yet, this makes you shy?"

Sebastian's gaze softened for a split second as he reached to pull the chair out for you, his movements slow, deliberate. He glanced at you an almost shy, amused smile tugging at his lips. “Are you trying to make me feel this way on purpose?”

His hand hovered over the back of the chair as you sat down pushing you in before he took his seat. Opening the expensive bottle Château Cheval Blanc, he poured you a glass of deep, rich wine.

The crimson liquid swirled in the glass like freshly spilled blood.

Sebastian sat across from you, forearms resting on the table, fingers curling over the stem of his own glass as he watched you with a gaze too sharp, too focused.

“Drink,” he said softly. “You must be thirsty.”

The sip you took was slow, deliberate, letting the wine linger on your tongue before swallowing. his eyes locked onto your lips, tracking the movement with unsettling intensity.

“How many?” you asked suddenly, tilting your head, eyes gleaming over the rim of your glass.

Sebastian didn’t pretend to misunderstand.

The corner of his mouth lifted in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“How many men have I killed for you?” swirling the wine in his glass as if considering. Your heart thudded, slow and deep.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping to a whisper.

“All of them.” A shiver ghosted down your spine.

Sebastian’s smile sharpened, gaze hooded and dark. “Every single one.”

You set your glass down, fingers gliding along the rim as you held his stare. “Did they beg?”

Something flickered in his expression—something vicious and deeply, utterly devoted.

“No,” he boasted proudly. “They never had the chance.”

Silence stretched between you as you locked eyes with him. Losing yourself in them as you thought about how much effort he’d put in.

This was clearly an act of devotion, and it was one you loved. After all, he went through the trouble of sneaking your favorite foods from the Great Hall, setting them out with the care of a man offering a sacrifice at an altar.

Your altar.

His hands flexed on the table, aching to touch, to take. But he held himself back, waiting—always waiting—for you to give him permission.

And that… that was power.

He would never hurt you. But everyone else?

You could shape him into something lethal. Something deadly, bound in devotion so absolute it bordered on worship.

And you would.

Because a boy who would kill for you was a boy worth keeping.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: my man my man my mannnn

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[dvinaamesca]

You just don't fw Slytherins.

[ps-cactus]

Sebastian 'don't burn yourself' Sallow

bw for no reason actually because his hair turned out pink or red everywhere i'm dead

HE'S SO UNFAZED LMAO

bonus—a fancy glitch that's taking them somewhere to the sun explosion at least