#hphl fanfics

[sapphira-mydnyte]

Sexy Snake King & Rogue Cursebreaker have proven to be more than enough to absolutely need a "chapter 2" for what they are on different levels. Spicy & sassy is what won them the top 2 spots in my little poll of 10 fics, which is fair.

Until I can get the "chapter 2s" ironed out in my head... onto fic 3... Devil In The Dark!

Another twisted Sebastian tale awaits & this time... he gives a whole new meaning to "devil" in every sense. If hell can't control him... what makes you think you can?

[myokk]

clumsy

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

summary: sebastian is clumsy

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)

a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)

The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.

Quite literally.

Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.

It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.

It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -

Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.

Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -

He freezes.

What has he done?

He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?

"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"

Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.

Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.

The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.

Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.

"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"

Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.

His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.

"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.

Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?

"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."

And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.

Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.

He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.

She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.

He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.

Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -

"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

"Do you want to start, or should I?"

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?

"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."

Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.

"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"

She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?

Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.

Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -

"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.

But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -

She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.

He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...

They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -

They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.

"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -

"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"

She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.

The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.

The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.

"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."

He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"

The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"

"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."

As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...

What had gotten into her? What is she doing?

He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.

"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.

She has a lot of thinking to do.

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.

Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.

"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."

Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.

In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."

She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.

Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -

Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.

"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.

Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.

She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -

Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.

Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.

Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.

"Sebastian, I..."

She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"

She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."

"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."

Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -

He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.

Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.

Misery.

Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.

She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?

There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.

Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...

He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -

Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.

"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.

"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."

Imelda does not stop.

Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.

Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.

"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."

"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."

"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."

Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.

They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.

She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.

She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.

And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.

Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.

Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.

Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.

"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."

And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.

A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?

Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.

He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.

Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.

Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.

She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -

"Hello."

She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.

Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.

But what if he rejects her?

Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.

They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.

"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.

  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.

[choccy-milky]

read the room, garreth (from the newest chap of my fic! ao3 / wattpad)

[toonedupfiction]

My HL Slytherin trio all together, coined the "Heartstopper Trio" by one of my readers, my friend, the detective ;) (and not for the fun reasons you might think lol) Legacy Disowned on Wattpad

[lavenderandturpentine]

Garreth: Would you fancy going on a date with me?

Seb: *passing by* Did I just hear you ask Ominis out on a date?

Ominis: He’s practicing so he can ask mc out tonight.

Seb: But I’m supposed to be asking mc out tonight…

Garreth & Seb: *both staring at each other in realization before taking off running towards the library*

Seb: I’m going to ask first!

Ominis: *sighs* You idiots are going to end up in detention tonight instead of on a date.

[dom1re]

Chapter 10 of THE KEEPERS is out on AO3 and Wattpad. Chapter excerpt below.

Managed to pass thru another writer's block for now and now I have 10+ chapters published 🥳🎉🎉 smol wins baby steps wooo

“Sorry I’m late!” 

Sunan turned his head. Natty was approaching him in quick strides, her burgundy-lined robe billowing at her steps. When their eyes met, her face split into a full, wide-mouthed smile, her deep brown eyes aglow with the morning light. The sight put him in mind of a doe running across a field.

Natty held her palms out in excitement. “You won’t believe what happened just now. There was an explosion in the Gryffindor dormitory.”

Sunan’s eyes rounded. “What?”

[ravenelyx]

Apple Of My Eye - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Fluff, headaches, Sebastian is concerned in true Sebastian-fashion

Summary: You've been getting headaches for a while - far too long for Sebastian’s comfort, and he can't help but worry.

A/N: another indulgent work - enjoy <3

Masterlist

You can find the full fanfic on ao3 as well <3

Ominis' version

Sebastian was positively, utterly, completely freaking out.

Sitting on the couch in the Common Room, he stared at the fireplace musingly, his hand tapping rhythmically on the armrest. He was pretty sure Ominis was on the verge of grabbing that hand and severing it from his wrist if he didn't stop soon.

He didn't care.

The only thought swirling in his mind was her — and how, just a few minutes before they had parted ways, she had pressed two fingers on her forehead, wincing slightly.

Sebastian couldn't stand it anymore.

He had spent the past two weeks with her, studying together for their upcoming N.E.W.T.s, carrying her books around, soothing her with small kisses whenever she began to rub her tired eyes, and watching helplessly as she took painkillers after painkillers. He had tried to reason with her and tell her that taking so many potions everyday wouldn't be good for her health in the long run, but she wouldn't have it, insisting that she was fine. It broke his heart.

"Sebastian, if you don't mind, can you still your hand or have you suddenly caught that one muggle disease that won't let you stop moving?" He heard Ominis' sarcastic voice next to him, and it snapped him from his thoughts.

"Perhaps I did catch that," the brunet grunted back.

Sebastian's movements didn't cease as his friend dearly wished, and the blond only sighed tiredly, muttering a few curses under his breath as he stood up.

"Well then, I hope you recover soon," the boy snarked sarcastically and walked away.

Sebastian's eyes didn't move from the fireplace, his skin tingling with the impelling need to find her again and drag her to the bloody Hospital Wing to make her better. Whatever her problem was, he would find a solution to it, even if he had to swim to the moon and back for a mere hint.

"Screw it!" He suddenly muttered, jumping up and storming out of the Common Room, not caring that curfew was near and he would probably get them both into trouble.

"Come with me," he declared once he saw her, ignoring the usual good manners and, above all, saccharine talk he only reserved for her.

"Sebastian?" She asked, surprised at both his presence and his unusually harsh tone. "Is there something wrong?"

"Don't act like you don't know," he spat, and she flinched for a second, before registering the subtle, underlying worry in his tone.

"Is this about my headaches again?" She crossed her arms and shifted her weight on one leg. "I already told you, I'm fi–"

"Don't you dare," he interrupted, walking closer to her and placing his hands on her arms. Given his tone and the words he had just spoken, she had expected him to grab her and drag her to the Hospital Wing rather harshly. But his hands were soft, his touch gentle as he guided her closer to his body. "Tell me the truth. Why? Why do you get them so often?"

Her eyes softened at the distress in his gaze, and she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks.

"It's just my eyes, Sebastian. I… I think I've been studying too much, and my eyes are always tired," she sighed, tracing circles on his cheeks with her thumbs.

"But how do you know it's about your eyes? It could be something else," he retorted, shifting even closer, the concern unwavering in his eyes.

"I feel it. I recognise the pain," she explained. "It's directly behind my eyes, and it increases the more I use them."

"Then close them," he pointed out, and placed his palm on her eyes to cover them like a blindfold.

She laughed and gently moved his hand away. "Look, I'll stop taking so many potions if that's what worries you–"

"But then you'll be in pain," he protested, interwining his fingers with hers. "I'm sure there is a way to kill two birds with one stone."

She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes slightly twitching every now and then when the brightness of the torches around them felt overwhelming. He noticed and moved his body to shield her from the light.

"Sleep," she mumbled. "Going to sleep helps… but it has to be a deep sleep, not like a slumber, more like — from a nap upwards, in a scale of sleep…"

His eyes fleeted over her face and then moved to the ceiling, as if expecting the old stone to morph into a pyramid scheme of resting protocol.

"Then let's go to sleep."

"Wha–" she had no time to protest as he tightened his grip on her hand and began to guide her to his Common Room.

"Sebastian, wait–"

But it was no use: he walked all the way to the dungeons, making sure she would follow as his hand never left hers, and then through the door once they reached the entrance.

Her eyes widened once he aimed for the stairs of the boys' dormitory.

"Sebastian, I can't go in there, I–"

"You can and you will," he cut her words. "The stairs allow you to."

She bit her lip. "B-but–"

"You'll sleep. And I'll make sure of it," he pulled her closer, placing his palm on the small of her back once they reached the landing of his dorm and gently pushing her to the door, not stopping until they reached the bed.

He obviously gave her privacy as she changed — despite her having to wear his clothes to sleep as the suddenness of the situation made her completely unequipped — and then joined her once she was safe under the covers.

"Never hide from me again," he whispered, pressing two fingers on her forehead to rub soothing circles.

She only nodded, and he wrapped his arms around her, making sure she was comfortable as she rested her head in the curve of his shoulder.

He kept his touch light and soothing on her scalp and back until her breath evened and became soft and heavy.

"You'll feel so much better soon," he kissed her forehead, and joined her in sleep.

[theladyofshalott1989]

"Girls' Night Out" (An HCU One-Shot)

Summary: Matty has organized a Girls' Night Out, and, as an honorary "girlie," Damien, of course, received an invitation. When Sebastian finds out he's been left off the guest list ("NO SEBASTIANS ALLOWED!"), Damien and Sebastian devise a clever plan to sneak him in. Because, well, that's just what they do.

Word Count: 1,521

Matty had invited all the seventh-year girls to what she called a "Girls’ Night Out," scheduled for a month and a few days from now. With everyone deep in their studies for their impending NEWTs, Damien figured Matty thought it would be the perfect way to offer them a much-needed break. Matty was usually right. Damien was included in the invite, of course, because he was an honorary “girlie,” at least according to Matty’s invitation, which was immaculate and beautifully designed—typical of her, really. Damien had always considered Matty practically perfect in every way. Alvin must have thought so too—or at least Damien hoped—considering the two had been inseparable for the past few months. He made a mental note to check in with Alvin, maybe even nudge him to do something romantic for her every now and then, just to be sure. Damien always looked out for his girl friends. 

“What’s this?” Sebastian plucked the invitation from Damien’s outstretched hand. 

“That’s mine!” Damien lunged forward to grab the parchment back but Sebastian darted to the side, laughing. He sprinted to the far end of the Undercroft, Damien on his tail, holding the paper out of reach as his eyes quickly scanned its contents.

“No Sebastians allowed,” he muttered under his breath. “No Sebastians allowed?” The second time was much louder. Damien even had to clap his hands over his ears.

“What did you expect, Bash? You’re not a girl!”

“Neither are you, unless you’ve somehow managed to hide that from me for the past two years.” He raised an unruly eyebrow. “Not that I would mind…” he added, trailing off, likely lost in thought, imagining just what that might entail. 

Damien, who had stomped back to Sebastian’s side, snatched the parchment from Sebastian’s hands with a flourish. He huffed prettily, batting his eyelashes. “You wish.”

Sebastian blinked, visibly thrown, and swallowed like he was trying to regain his composure. 

A triumphant chuckle slipped from Damien’s lips. He loved these moments—when he could rattle Sebastian just enough to steal an unguarded reaction.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “So, how are you going to disguise me so I can join in on the festivities?” How, indeed. 

“Is anyone hungry?” Tori asked, pulling an entire pastry out of her robe pocket. 

"Always!" Damien said. He swiped the offered pastry from her hand and promptly stuffed the entire thing in his mouth. "Thanks, Tori," he mumbled through a mouthful, grinning cheekily as he chewed.

Natty, standing beside him, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his lack of manners. Damien gave Natty a side-long glance, narrowing his eyes. 

She quickly corrected herself. “Damien! Manners!” Hopefully her delayed reaction wasn’t too suspicious. 

Because Natty, obviously, wasn’t herself. Because Natty was Sebastian. 

Luckily, Sebastian and Damien had just enough time to brew a Polyjuice Potion before the big event. Getting a hair from Natty had been easy enough, since Damien shared half his classes with her, and—naturally—Damien and Natty were best friends. Unfortunately, Damien wasn’t the sneakiest of lads, and she’d caught on to his plan almost immediately. After a hurried explanation and a bit of his trademark persuasion, Natty gave him permission since she couldn’t attend Girls' Night Out herself. Provided, of course, that Damien promised to fill her in on every detail later. He readily agreed.

“I miss Alvin,” Matty said next, startling Damien out of his rumination. 

“You literally just said goodbye to him,” Cassie said, scowling. “Anyway, you were the one that made this a girls-only event.” 

Matty sighed. “I know, I know. Don’t you miss Alex?” Cassie shrugged. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Right, Damien?” She winked.

“Right,” Damien agreed, not looking her in the eye. Natty-Sebastian clapped a hand to her mouth, failing to stifle a laugh.

Cassie, thankfully, didn’t pay Natty’s slip up any mind. “Anyway,” she continued, “Alex and I had an argument this morning and I needed a break from him.” "Oh no, Cassie!" Jo chimed in, grabbing Cassie’s arm and linking it with her own. "I’m sure everything will be fine. What did you argue about?"

Cassie rolled her eyes. "He won’t stop haggling when we shop together. He insists on trying to negotiate everything!"

Jo snorted. 

“How industrious of him,” Natty-Sebastian piped in from beside Damien. “I’d consider that a good thing, wouldn’t you, Damien?” 

Damien mumbled something non-committal, trying to steer Sebastian away from drawing attention to himself, then quickly changed the subject. "So! Val!” He clapped his hands together. “How are you and Cal doing? Still completely head over heels for each other?"

Val, leading the pack, her round glasses catching the soft glow of the purple-pink sunset ahead, swiveled around. “Yes, of course!” she squeaked. 

Well, that was certainly suspicious. Damien sighed. “Is everyone fighting with their significant other?” 

“Not me!” Matty said from behind him. Damien should have amended his question. Matty and Alvin never argued. 

“And you’re not fighting with Sebastian,” Natty-Sebastian said. “At least not that I’m aware of,” she added, smirking. Natty never smirked. Everyone stopped walking to stare. Tori’s jaw dropped. 

“Natty,” Ellie and Alyn said in unison, “Are you alright?” They didn’t wait for her to respond, exchanging a surprised glance when they realized they’d asked the same question at the exact same moment.

Natty-Sebastian schooled her expression. “Oh, erm, yes. I’m just excited to be here with you all. It’s usually just me and Damien. Or, erm, me, off on my own exploring.”

“We’re so happy to have you here!” Jo exclaimed, an exuberant smile gracing her beautiful face. She released her arm from Cassie, and embraced Natty-Sebastian. Natty-Sebastian tensed. Ellie, ever observant, noticed. “Why so tense, Natty?” she asked, raising a perfectly contoured eyebrow.

“Erm, uh,” Natty-Sebastian glanced at Damien, floundering, “no reason?”

Damien brought a hand to his forehead. “That’s on me, everyone,” he said, scrambling to come up with an excuse. “Natty and I were playing Summoner’s Court all day because Professor Ronen challenged me to a match next week. I needed practice. She’s just sore. That’s all.”

All the girls nodded.

“How kind of you, Natty,” Alyn said, patting Natty-Sebastian on the shoulder gently. 

Everyone resumed walking and broke back out into scattered conversation. 

Phew, that was a close call. Damien was grateful he could see the Three Broomsticks slightly ahead. Once they all had some Butterbeer in them, he hoped that it would be easier to keep Sebastian’s presence under wraps. 

Boy, oh boy, was Damien mistaken. 

It turned out the boys had decided to drown their uninvited woes at Sirona’s fine establishment. So, what Matty had originally intended to be a girls-only night quickly turned into a gathering for everyone after all.

“Another!” Jaimsen shouted, slamming his empty glass on the counter.

“Another!” Natty-Sebastian echoed, mimicking his motion—but more clumsily. In her enthusiasm, Natty-Sebastian sent her glass tumbling to the floor. A loud crash followed. 

Sirona shouted, “Watch it!” from across the counter as she served another customer. Natty-Sebastian dropped down, picking her glass back up with a sheepish look on her face. She was very obviously drunk. 

Damien groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 

Alyn, who was sitting to his left, laughed. “Are you sure Natty’s alright?”

Ellie tugged at a stray strand of hair as she nodded. “She’s sure acting more…uninhibited than usual.”

“Perhaps she’s been working herself too hard,” Damien tried. “We’re all studying tirelessly, after all.”

“Not me!” Cal interrupted, raking a hand through his hair with his usual cavalier charm, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not you,” Ale agreed from further down the counter. “Obviously not you,” he spat out, then took another chug of Butterbeer. 

“Whoa, what’s with the attitude?” Natty-Sebastian said, alighting at Damien’s side, holding yet another full glass of Butterbeer. “How many have you had?” Damien said, holding back a long-suffering sigh.

“That’s for me to know and you to…uh…not know,” Natty-Sebastian replied. 

The group had gone totally silent. You could hear a pin drop.

“Something’s not right,” Theo said from beside Tori. Tori abruptly stopped sorting a pile of sweets she had on the counter in front of her. 

“I agree,” she added. “Natty, were you experimenting with any new potions today? One time Poppy accidentally inhaled a drop of Amortentia in class and acted besotted with me all day.”

Florence, who had kept to himself most of the night thus far, laughed. “Poppy’s always besotted with you, Tori. What’s new?” 

Jaimsen gave Florence a high-five, then pecked him—rather adorably—on the cheek. “Oh, are we kissing now?” Natty-Sebastian suddenly said. Then, before Damien could get a word in edgewise, launched herself forward and planted a big, wet kiss on Damien’s lips. 

Damien recoiled, shouting out and tumbling backward off of his stool.

The entire group erupted in shouts of shock and disbelief. Jo, wide-eyed, even yelled, “Merlin’s arse!” which was extremely uncharacteristic of her.

“Oops,” Natty-Sebastian muttered under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Damien glared up at her from the floor.

“Sebastian Sallow!” Damien growled, giving up the act entirely.

“I knew it!” Matty exclaimed, her grin wide and knowing.

Of course she did.

MCs Mentioned:

Damien (and his Sebastian, aka "Bash") are mine 🤭 

Matty, Theo, and Cal @girl-named-matty

Tori @espressoristretto-patronum

Cassie, Alvin and Alex @acslytherpuff

Jo @ravenwind-75

Val and Ale @savingsallow

Ellie @accio-bagel

Alyn @ps-cactus

Jaimsen and Florence @leaping-toadstool-caps

Thank you to everyone for allowing me to borrow their MCs. This was a blast to write! :)

[fierymiasma]

☽ No Good Deed Goes Unpunished ☽ // Sebastian x f!MC

Summary: Sebastian gives f!MC Amortentia, so she never tries to leave him again. He instantly regrets it.

A continuation of "For Her Own Good". I got a ton of requests to continue this fic!

♪ Tags: Slight Dub-con, Dark!Sebastian, Jealous!Sebastian, Obsession, Possessiveness, toxicity, Use of Love potions, Manipulation, Angst, some very small Ominis x MC if you squint

Word Count: 4k 💔

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

Sebastian never felt more free than when he was dueling by her side.  Even in his 7th year, where the novelty of dueling together had long faded, he still cherished the occasions where her back pressed closely against his in the heat of battle.  All of his worries over Anne's illness, over Ominis's avoidance, seemed to melt away when he was with her.

Of course, like most good things in Sebastian's life, it had to come to an end.

"Diffindo!"

A blood-curdling scream.  Her body slumping against his.  He could almost feel the waves of her pain coursing through his bones.  His lover's face was pale, staring at the blood soaking through her own leather armor in shock.

He turned around, face in a ferocious snarl.�� The offending dark wizard sneered back.  Something broke inside Sebastian.  "You'll pay for that.  Crucio!" 

He would never admit to anyone how good it felt casting an unforgivable curse. It was well deserved.  He was finally delivering righteous justice.  Power sang in his nerve endings.  "If you so much as lay another finger on her, I will not hold back on you.  By the time I'm finished, you'll wish I used the Killing Curse. Crucio!"

"Sebastian!"

"Crucio!"  His eyes blazed murderously.  The crackles of red magic made his dark eyes gleam with malicious intent, pinning his victim in place.  Sebastian was delighted to hear the cries of anguish from the villain who hurt her.  "No one touches her."

"Sebastian, please!"

"Crucio!"

"Sebastian!"  A delicate but firm hand grabbed his wand hand, tugging it away. 

The red surrounding the periphery of his vision vanished.  She was in front of him, hair in disarray, splatters of her own blood on her cheek.  There were empty bottles of Wiggenweld potion strewn about.  "Sebastian, please, please, enough!  No more.  No more suffering." 

Even in this state, she was dreadfully beautiful.  Perfect even.  Sebastian marveled how she managed to find the strength to stop him in his tracks after taking such a powerful hit straight on. 

Before he could reply, the dark wizard stumbled to their feet behind her.  For the first time in his life, Sebastian was frozen, body unable to response.  With one last shaky last breath, the enemy wizard screamed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Sebastian woke up screaming, heart pounding in his throat.  His sheets were soaked with sweat.  His face glistened with tears.

He was back in the safety of his dorm.  It was a dream.  Just a nightmare.  She was still alive.  She was okay.  Sebastian managed to make it in time to save her.  His breathing evened.  Their last battle had been a near miss.  They had been lucky to escape with their lives intact.  Sebastian didn't regret torturing the dark wizard, it was only a fraction of what he was willing to do to keep her save. 

His only regret was that she saw it.

Ever since the incident, she had actively avoided him.  Said she needed her "space" to think.  Sebastian wish he knew Legilimency.  His sweetheart looked so shell-shock that day.  Skittering away from his outstretched hands, turning away from his fierce gaze.  She would shy away from the robes he tried to drape over her and his comforting arms.  Still experiencing the remnants of his anger, Sebastian had just thought she was still recovering from her wounds.

Now, he wondered if there was something else on the dueling grounds that she was more afraid of.

Flopping back down on his bed, he threw his arm over his eyes.  Just a nightmare.  Nothing to worry about.

But, a nagging voice ask in the back of his mind, what if it happened again?  What if she got hurt in the rare moments Sebastian wasn't there by her side?  How could Sebastian hope to protect her, when she wanted nothing to do with him?

What if she left him, just as Sebastian's parents did when he was young?  Just as Ominis and Anne turned their backs to him in their 5th year, when all he wanted to do was save his sister?

Sebastian turned his head to his nightstand.  An innocuous vial stood patiently, begging to be used.  Though it was corked, he could still smell her the signature scent from the Amortentia: the warm, flowery perfume that Sebastian gifted her and her favorite apple tarts.  Ever since he had brewed the love potion in the Undercroft, it had sat in a tiny vial in the inner breast pocket of his robes.  It was a tickling bomb, a heavy sin that sat directly in front of his heart. 

He never once imagined that he would resort to such measures.  He wished it didn't have to come down to this.  In a perfect world, she would understand that he only meant to keep her safe.  But in a perfect world, Anne wouldn't have been cursed.  In a perfect world, Sebastian wouldn't be alone in trying to do the impossible to save the people he loved. 

His mind was made up.  She was the only one left.  He would do whatever it takes to make sure that she was safe.  That she would never leave again.

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

Sebastian's fingers drummed nervously over the parcel.  His right leg shook anxiously as he paced in front of the Room of Requirements.  She had been elusive since the incident, avoiding him all over Hogwarts.  But if her Room of Requirement revealed itself to Sebastian, then she wasn't entirely keeping him out, was she?  He could feel his nervous heartbeat in the spiked pastries that he was holding.  Finally mustering the courage to enter, he opened the door very quietly, silently sneaking in. 

There she sat, her hair swept behind her, locks spilling over her shoulders.  She was dressed in her favorite leather corset, the one she wore when she was expecting a hard fight.  Sebastian wondered if it was the same one she wore when she took the severing charm straight to the chest.

As he approached closer, his heartbeat stilled.  Right next to her on the couch was Ominis Gaunt himself.  He caught them together.  Ominis was with her, alone.  Hovering behind a pillar in the entranceway, Sebastian listened in.  His stomach couldn't help but coil in jealously.  The irony of the situation was not lost on him.  How many times in their 5th year had Sebastian stolen his Hufflepuff away to teach her the dark arts only for a nosy Ominis to interrupt their time together?

"I'm just worried.  Sebastian hasn't been himself lately."  Ominis pleaded.  "I don't know if anything transpired between the two of you, but I'm worried he's going down a dark path again."  Ominis shook his head.  "You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you?

Sebastian inhaled sharply.  If Ominis were to learn that he used the Cruciatus Curse once again, the rat would run straight to Headmaster Black.

Sebastian's hand reached into his robes, curling protectively around his wand.

She shook her head.  "Nothing strange has happened between the two of us, I assure you Ominis.  If something bad did happen, you'd be the first to know."

Sebastian's heart fluttered.  Even when she was refusing to speak with him, she was so fiercely loyal to him.  What a good girl. 

Ominis sighed.  "I know our friendship hasn't been easy on you.  Sebastian and I…we're not exactly friends anymore.  He seems to confide in you more these days."  The back of Ominis's neck flushed.  "I too seem to always rely on you for comfort."

Something ugly reared its head in Sebastian.  How dare he?  How often was Ominis, his supposed "friend" talking to Sebastian's flame like this?  The drumming heartbeat in the vial grew louder, overwhelming the rest of Sebastian's thoughts.  It was fortunate that Sebastian had the foresight to make Amortentia, before things escalated any further.

Her hands gripped Ominis's trying to offer him some modicum of comfort.  "He's trying, Ominis.  Give him a chance.  Sebastian works so hard to be good."  Ominis scoffed.  She politely ignored it.  "He's always had a heart too big for one person, sometimes it leans too heavy in one direction, but, Sebastian means well.  He's a good person, despite some of his actions.  I believe in him, to always chose good at the end of the day."

Ominis squirmed.  He too once thought exactly the same way.  Ignoring all the warning signs, excusing away the blatant manipulation and lies.  It was Solomon's death that was the final straw, a brutal wake up call for Ominis and Anne alike.

He just hoped his friend was able to see it as well before it was too late for her.

"You're too charitable to him."  Ominis decided.  "Ever since you've arrived at Hogwarts in our 5th year, he's been a negative influence on you.  I have a feeling he still wants to lure you into the dark arts.  You need to be careful around him."

Her expression softened.  "Ominis, that's enough.  You needn't worry.  Rest assured, I'm more than capable of holding my own.  There's no need to ever fear Sebastian."

Ominis doubted her words.  It seemed like from the very first day of their meeting, she had been under Sebastian's spell.  Always turning a blind eye to Sebastian's misdeeds.

He was suddenly reminded of the night he caught Sebastian making sleeping potions for her in the Undercroft.  Though Sebastian had tried to assuage his worries at the time, Ominis couldn't feel that something was…amiss.  Something in Ominis's gut was screaming at him to warn her.  He needed to tell her.

"There's something that's been bothering me about him recently.  I think Sebastian-"

The pair were interrupted by the extremely loud, deafening noise of the door of the Room of Requirements swinging open.  Sebastian made a big show of it, as if he had just now been arriving, like he hadn't been spying on them for their entire conversation.

"There you are!"  He said breezily, strolling up to the two of them.  "I've been looking for you all over the place." 

Ominis turned to the sound of the other Slytherin's voice, instantly on guard. 

"Sebastian?" She muttered uneasily. Had the Room of Requirements let him in?

"Do you have a minute?" he asked. 

Now that Sebastian was standing in front of her, he was able to better visualize tiny imperfections.  There was a new rough leather stitch crudely sewing up the two jagged edges of the ripped outer corset, right where she had been struck.  His sweetheart had dark bags under her eyes, as if she stayed up at night worried over something.  His eyes trailed downward. 

Fresh, new bandages covered her slim hands.  She clasped her hands together in front of her delicately as if they hurt to be moved. 

Sebastian's gut twisted.  That wasn't there the last time they were together.  She had been sneaking off outside of Hogwarts either alone or with Poppy and Natty, two individuals who weren't willing to do whatever it took to keep his darling from harm.

There was a missing beat of silence.  The hero of Hogwarts wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to Sebastian. 

"I suppose so," she relented, her voice devoid of her usual warmth.  Ominis hovered protectively next to her, hands clenched into fists as if he wasn't sure how to feel about his once close friend. 

The parchment covered package in Sebastian's robe pockets felt like a heavy weight under their scrutiny.  Sebastian cleared his throat.  "Can I speak with you alone?"

Ominis turned his head towards her.  A silent conversation seemed to pass between them.  Sebastian hadn't realized how close they had gotten.  A fleeting moment passed, before the hero of Hogwarts nodded.  Ominis got up from the couch, about to leave, before he hesitated.  Bending forward, he leaned over whispering something in her ear.  Sebastian stepped closer to the couch, wishing his hearing was good enough to hear what lies Ominis was telling her.

As Ominis moved to leave their friend's side, Sebastian couldn't help but bump against the other boy's shoulders, angry at his friend's betrayal.  Ominis paused, frowning.  He whispered so only Sebastian could hear, "Why do you smell like her perfume and Sirona's apple tarts?"

Sebastian stilled, his breath caught in his throat.  He could fell his own heart beat through the vial of Amortentia pressed against his chest.  So, Ominis too, could smell her signature scent in the love potion.  And all of a sudden Sebastian's paranoid fears were suddenly confirmed.  Ominis was falling for the girl who rightfully belonged to Sebastian.

He couldn't be too angry, he supposed.  By virtue of being the most gorgeous, talented witch in Hogwarts, she was bound to attract more attention.

"Good bye, Ominis." Sebastian said rather cruelly.  "I shall see you later tonight, in our dorm."  Sebastian dismissed his former friend from the conversation.  The other boy narrowed his eyes, before excusing himself from the Room of Requirements, not longing to be in Sebastian's company for any longer than necessary. 

The hero of Hogwarts frowned, unaware of what just happened between the two once friends.  "What do you want, Sebastian?"

Now that Ominis had left them alone, Sebastian's face instantly transformed.  It was almost reminiscent of the adorable 5th year boy who stared at her lovingly across the greenhouse during herbology.  "I just wanted to check in on you, sweetheart.  Is that a crime?"

She winced at his choice of words.  The memory of bone-chilling screams, of the torture curse that Sebastian had once used on her, used now on another kept her awake at night.

She had been horrified.  When Sebastian had killed his uncle, the poor sweet boy she fell in love with was instantly remorseful.  Upset, disgusted in himself and what he had done.  She dared to finally look up and look at Sebastian in the eye.

This was not the same boy she met on her first day of Hogwarts.  His eyes were dark, unrelenting, too intense.  His eyes trained on her every move as if he was prepared for her to leave him at a moment's notice.  Sebastian always seemed to know what was on her mind.  Gently, he sat next to her, where Ominis had once sat.  His hands found hers.  Rough fingers ran over her bandages, examining her new injury.

"Please, sweetheart,"  Sebastian leaned over, his forehead practically touching hers.  "I didn't meant to upset you.  I did it for you.  If I hadn't had the strength to use Crucio…well, I'm just glad I was there to protect you."

Whoever this was, this version of Sebastian, held his head up high.  Like his use of Cruicto was a point of pride.  A means to an end to protect what was his. 

She was afraid.  She said nothing, not knowing if there was anything that she could say that wouldn't upset Sebastian.

His eyes were pleading.  She wondered, not for the first time, if he genuinely believed what he was saying or was using his silver tongue of his to manipulate her.  Did he even know what he was doing, pulling at people's emotions until they wilted under his wishes?

She was unable to make eye contact with him, afraid of how he'd react to what she was about to say.  "Sebastian, please, I'm sorry, but…I just need some more time.  To…process everything that has happened."

"Sweetheart, we can't be apart now.  Look,"  Sebastian squeezed her hand forcefully, accidentally brushing up against her bruise.  She winced.  "You need me now, more than ever.  You need someone by your side, who has your back.  Who really has your back.  I will do whatever it takes to make sure you're never harmed."

"Sebastian," her voice cracked she barely spoke above a whisper.  "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."  Looking up at Sebastian's face, she could tell that he did not understand.  "Sebastian, please don't be mistaken.  This isn't a good bye.  I just…I just need some time…alone to think."

He nodded stiffly, shoulders falling.  He looked so distraught.  "I…I understand.  Then, I want to apologize, for…everything that happened.  I never meant to upset you."  He reached into his robes pocket, pulling out a parchment covered package, carefully wrapped in twine.  "I got you your favorite apple tarts made from Sirona.  I just picked it up from Hogsmeade this morning."

She picked up the parcel, inspecting it.  There was an unreadable expression on her face.  Sebastian held his breath.  Again, he wondered what Ominis had whispered to her.

"What do you want from me, Sebastian?" She asked again, a bit more tired.  She was unsure if this gift was more of an apology or a bribe for her affections.

Probably both.

"I just want to take care of you."  Sebastian frowned, looking like a kicked Crup puppy.  "Even if we have to part ways, it doesn't mean I can't show you how much you mean to me.  I'll always cherish the moments we had together."

She nodded, blinking tears out of her eyes.

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

She sighed, it had been days since her last conversation with Sebastian.  Shockingly, he had respected her wishes, and stayed away from her.  It must have killed him. 

She looked over at her deskside at the package of her favorite apple tarts that Sebastian had gotten her.  Over the past two years together, Sebastian was constantly showering her with small gifts.  Whether it be an old spellbook, some flowers from the fields surrounding Feldcroft or just "something in the store window that made me think of you".  She was honestly quite shocked that he had not bombarded her with more gifts in the past month. 

Unwrapping one of the tarts, she smelled its rich scent.  She inspected for longer than she intended.  Ominis's warning played like a broken record. A million thoughts raced around her head.  Slowly, she ripped off a chunk with her teeth.  As she let the warm, softened apples melt into her mouth she tried to place what the scent was from.  It smelled…a bit different somehow.  The pillows in the Undercroft, the flowers surrounding Feldcroft, the warmth of Sebastian's cologne.

….Sebastian.

Sebastian Sallow, the love of her life.

Sebastian who was the most perfect, most gorgeous person in the world.

Sebastian Sallow who protected her so fiercely that it took her breath away.

Sebastian, whose growing darkness only sent dangerous thrills down her spine.  Whose dark, possessive gaze terrified her very soul.  And yet, a small, very hidden part of her was so enraptured in his maniac, obsession over her.  A dark part of her who was elated that a man so pure-hearted as Sebastian was willing to do the unforgivable to protect her.  To make her his.

She wondered how far he was willing to go for her.  How corruptible the once innocent boy was.  If she asked him to do the unforgivable, would he?  If she wanted to abuse Isidora's power and take over the wizarding world, would he bend the knee to her?  Be at her side?

If she asked him to burn the world for her, would he?

She shivered.  She needed to see him immediately.

Her vision was a blur.  This was a dull pounding in her head that made it difficult to think of anything else other than finding Sebastian Sallow, the man she was destined to be with.  The hero of Hogwarts didn't even register that she had moved from the comfort and safety of the Room of Requirements until the telltale iron gates of the Undercroft were shuddering open.

There he was, practically his spellwork surrounding by an army of training dummies.  She stood dumbly in the doorway for a bit, watching how beautiful his movements were.  Whenever she dueled, it was full of crazed desperation without any finesse as she struggled for her life. 

He was different.  He moved like a dancer.  Movements graceful, expressive.  His duels were always full of his spitfire and personality. 

She was in love.  He was hers.  He belonged to her.  No one else.

No one else could corrupt him like she could. 

"Sebastian," she whispered loudly in the Undercroft. 

The seventh year in question spun around, heart leaping into his throat.  He adored how she spoke his name, with almost the same amount of reverence he had for her.  In an instant, she was everywhere.  Hands clinging on his robes, one of her legs was hitched up, trying to wind its way around his hips.  She was trying to crawl onto his lap.  She pressed her nose against his neck, inhaling his rich scent, not bothered by her own extreme lack of decorum.

"Oh, I've missed you, Sebastian, I never want to be apart from you ever again.  You need to be next to me, forever."

Sebastian was overwhelmed by her warmth.  Her scent washed over him.  Eagerly, he wrapped his arms around he.  He never wanted to ever let go.  Even two weeks was too long to be apart from her.  This is where he belonged.  Where they both belonged.  With each other.  "Sweetheart, you came back."

"Yes, Yes, Sebastian, I wasn't ever going to leave you.  I can't ever be without you."

Sebastian swallowed thickly.  He wondered how much of what she said was from herself or from the Amortentia. 

He burned his face in her hair.  In a small whisper, his voice cracked.  "Please, please don't ever leave me like that again.  I was only trying to help.  To protect you."

She cooed, burying her face into Sebastian's firm chest.  Roughly, she pulled on his robes, wanting to be as close with him as possible.

"I love you, Sebastian.  I love you so dearly, my love.  I love you.  I love you, Sebastian."

Sebastian pulled himself away from her.  In their two years they have been seeing each other, she never once said those famous three words he had been dying to hear.  He was always the one to profess his love to her, patiently waiting for the day for her to say it back. 

This wasn't how he imaged it.

Her eyes were glassy, unseeing, as if she was looking past him.

Something like bile was rising in the back of his throat.  This wasn't her.   This wasn't the whip smart, sharp-tongued, teasing girl who he fell in love with.  He had fallen for the girl who wouldn't back down from his rude comments.  Who stood on her tip toes screaming her head off whenever they got into their infamous disagreements.  He fell in love with the girl who dragged him across the entire countryside of Scotland to do silly little tasks for the random villagers of Hogwarts.

Whoever this was, wasn't her.

This was all wrong.  It felt like the inferi all over again.  This wasn't what Sebastian had in mind.

He knew what he had to do.  Gripping his concealed wand tightly with one hand, his other hand gently cupped her face.   She softened, melting into his touch.  Her hair spilled over his hands and she looked up at him like he was the night sky.  He didn't want to let her go.  This was perhaps the last time, he would see the love of his life look at him with this amount of affection, no matter how fake.

He almost didn't recognize his voice when he said, "Close your eyes, sweetheart.'

Her long eyelashes fluttered shut on his command.  Sebastian leaned in for a kiss, perhaps their last.  Even the kiss was wrong.  Her movements were frenzied, as if she was intoxicated off of his scent.  Her tongue pushed forward, searching for his, greedily and single-mindedly.  She was uncaring of what Sebastian's preferences were, only thinking of how to consume him.  It disgusted Sebastian what he had created.  

Pulling back from the kiss, he had no regrets as to what he was about to do.  Tears began to spill over onto his cheeks.  She frowned in confusion as she slowly reached up to him, trying to dry his eyes.  Swiftly, he pulled out his wand.  With a trembling hand, he pointed it right at her.

"Obliviate." 

[expectodragons]

The Art of Receiving || 18+ Oneshot

✦ Summary: The stress of studying for your final exams is finally getting to you and you're in desperate need of some relief.

✦ Pairing: Aesop Sharp x Female Reader

✦ Word Count: 2,230

✦ Rating: Explicit, 18+ only - minors do not interact.

✦ Tags / Warnings: Age difference, oral sex (f!receiving), PWP, reader is of age, slight power dynamics, student/professor relationship, vaginal fingering.

It was not often you found yourself in use of the bath in the Prefect’s bathroom. The place was a privilege for but a select few students, yourself included. Being a Quidditch Captain did have its benefits, after all. But rarely did you find the time, or the need, to traverse the many steps up to the hidden room.

Today, however, had given you every single reason to seek out the vast warm waters of the pool-like tub.

Exam season was upon the castle and your nerves, in particular, were due to fry if you spent another moment huddled over a dusty tome in the library with your group of fellow seventh-years. Between a series of challenging classes and the overwhelming air of expectation that was placed upon you by your professors, you were a step short of collapsing.

You had felt your eyes blurring together the words of Malinda Haddock and her many essays on the intricacies of advanced Transfiguration in the fifteenth century. Your head had pounded against the table, much to the concern of Poppy who had been working alongside you.

It felt like your mind could consume no more information – a sponge already seeping out water – you were at your fill of knowledge. And nothing the famed witch could say about the difficulties of transfiguring avian creatures into knitting needles could breach your mental walls.

So, with a weary pace, you had found yourself taking the long journey up to the top of the South Wing’s tower. Flicking the spigot on every faucet until the bath filled with technicolor soap and kaleidoscope-colored bubbles floated into the air. Time had passed without your awareness, so lost in the delicious sensation of warm water rippling over your stressed shoulders.

But, when you at last extracted yourself from the lovely bath and had dried and dressed yourself once again, you finally took notice of the time. Curfew was due to start in but a few minutes and dinner was obviously out of the question.

As you descend the spiral staircase, eager to pick up your pace in an effort to make it to your common room before the clock strikes the hour, you find yourself face-to-face with a particular Potion Master.

“Ah,” Sharp says your name in that slow sardonic tone. He peers up at you from his lower position on the staircase.

“Professor Sharp,” you say in polite admonishment.

If he held you up any longer, you would never make it to your common room in time.

Sharp takes a step, and then another. And even though he’s three steps below your position on the landing, he’s fully eye-level with you.

“You were absent from dinner this evening.”

Your chin juts out, ever so slightly, “I was. And if you’ll excuse me, I wish to make it to my dorm before curfew begins, sir.”

The professor gives an amused hum of consideration. You feel your cheeks become aflame with heat with the look he bestows upon you.

Resting a hand on the banister, he leans into the rails, as though he has nowhere to be in a particular hurry.

“How are your study sessions coming along? I believe the entirety of your year has taken over Scribner’s domain this past week.”

With a huff of annoyance, an impatience sending your feet rocking back and forth, you respond with a simple, “Fine.”

“And your classes? You’re keeping up with the workload I imagine?”

“Yes, sir. If you excuse me, please. I really must get going.”

Before you can so much as brush past him on the other side of the staircase, Sharp moves another step forward and takes a gentle hold of your right arm – your skin still radiates the warmth from your long bath and you know he can feel it between his fingers as his thumb begins to rub a steady rhythm against your hammering pulse point.

The two of you rarely appeared together outside of the safety of his office. Where he could lock the doors and cast a simple Muffliato upon the room. Your meetings were cherished, but increasingly rare as the days leading up to the NEWTs kept you away. But here, in the Faculty Tower – on the top landing of the tower, at that – you feel a familiar rush of desire pooling in your stomach as Aesop takes a final step forward.

Towering over you now, you can feel his warm breath upon your face. Smell the comforting aroma of sandalwood and musk that lingers on his robes. You can even see the beginnings of that familiar small smile of his that sends your heart racing anytime he shares it with you.

“You must be exhausted, my dear.”

The firm press of his thumb on your wrist has your knees buckling, lost in the weight of his heavy stare.

“It… has been rather stressful.”

“Hmm,” he hums in return. His charcoal-colored eyes bore into you as if undressing you here in the corridor before he seemed to make a decision – a sudden flicker of interest across his face your only warning.

“Perhaps you are in need of some relief, as it were.”

You gulp, feeling a flood of want surging through your chest. Your neck flushes with warmth and your ears begin to burn as you carefully turn your wrist in his hold until your fingers wrap around his thumb.

“Perhaps, sir.”

With a thin smile, Aesop leads you the few short steps up to his personal chambers.

This was one place you had never adventured before.

There had been two, and only two, separate occasions in your time with the potions professor, where a secret rendezvous occurred outside of his office. Once, in a hidden nook in the Bell Tower when the majority of the school was out on a Hogsmeade trip. And one very heated exchange in the changing rooms after a quidditch match when the rest of your team was headed off to the common room to celebrate your victory.

But this?

You allow your gaze to wander around the red-toned room. Taking in the small things that took up your professor’s private space. It was hardly as neat as you would have assumed it to be. Stacks of papers, bottles, and potion tools littered every available space. A lone chair sat before a blazing fire. A curious glance towards an ajar doorway nearly has your attention before Aesop’s hand cups your face.

“Now…” he intones. “What to do with you?”

Creeping up on your tiptoes, you lean into his touch.

“I could think of a thing or two.”

He chuckles, curling a finger through the damp locks of your hair.

“I imagine you could. However…” his gaze goes distant, seemingly transfixed by the droplets of water that travel from your hair down to his finger.

Giving an experimental tug, he brings you closer – holding onto but a single strand of your hair. You allow yourself to be pulled, pressing up to meet his curved smile as a kiss, almost too sweet, is placed upon your lips.

“Poor, poor girl,” he murmurs against your lips, tilted back just enough to keep him from making contact with your eager mouth. “Drowning under the pressure of your studies. Has no one shown you proper care these past few weeks?”

His snide remarks only have you leaning up to try and join your lips together once again, but he remains stubbornly persistent in refusing you further. Much to his own delight, apparently, as a wolfish grin materializes on his face.

And then his hands are traveling down your sides. Fingers pressing into the curve of your waist, the small swell of your stomach, the dip of your hips. As you wrap your arms around his neck, his head lowered to almost rest upon your shoulder, you feel the cool air of the room caress your legs as you find your skirt being pushed up.

“If only someone was willing to spare you a thought, hmm?” he crones.

Calloused fingers meet your bare skin, following the gentle curve of your inner thighs as they trail higher and higher.

“What have we here?”

You can sense the pleased smile on his face as his fingers delve into the wet heat between your legs – your eyes closing and your head tilting back in delight at the first brush of his knuckle across your lips.

Warm breath tickles your ear as teeth gently tug at the lobe.

“Eager indeed.”

At last, you lean against him, moaning a gentle, “Aesop.”

He smirks, removing his hands – allowing your skirt to fall back into place – as he pulls you toward the door across the room. Walking backward, he presses the entry open and leads you into a smaller room. Your eyes flash across an array of furniture, covered portraits, stacks of cauldrons, and books, before falling upon the bed.

“My darling girl,” he smooths, turning you slowly in his embrace until you find your knees backed into the crimson sheets of his bed.

A gentle press on your shoulder has you sitting down like a good student, while the man before you drops to a single knee. Your hands grip the sheets like a vice as your skirt is rolled up onto the tops of your thighs and two large palms press your knees apart.

Sharp settles there, in the V of your legs, as a hand lazily drags through the warm slick of your desire. Perhaps another clever quip could be said then, but his dark gaze has zeroed in on his own fingers now, and with a muffled cry parting from your lips Aesop leans forward and licks a warm stripe up your quim.

Pulling your fist to your mouth, you bite down on the flesh of your fingers as he repeats the action.

Heated breath grazes your cunt and the pleasant sting of his stubble scrapes the smooth flesh of your thighs as a deep moan rumbles across your womanhood.

His hands wind under your knees as he spreads you further open, his nose brushes against your mound, as he dips his tongue into your quivering hole – scooping up every bit of sweet juice he finds dribbling out of you.

“Oh god,” you cry out.

Your hand falls from your mouth to latch into the silky strands of his dark tresses. Pulling him closer as he starts to work a steady rhythm with his mouth. Buried between your thighs like he was meant to always be there, Aesop moans another gravelly sound as he begins to suck your clit between his swollen lips.

Like a man starved, he finds his fill in the juncture of your legs. Licking up everything you have to give him, his hold upon your thighs leaves crescent-shaped bruises that send another delicious wave of pained pleasure toward your core.

“Yes, oh Merlin, yes!”

Urged on by your desperate cries, the potions professor barrels forward, sucking your button in earnest as you tug his hair into a tight grip. You can feel it, the sweet desperate coil in your core. Soon it will snap and your release will paint your lover’s face.

Rocking your hips to meet him, you find yourself grinding against his lips, though that only seems to encourage him as he flicks his tongue over your clit and stares up at you with that glazed-over heavy expression in his eyes.

Sweat clings to his brow and his hair curtains his face, but all you can focus on are those gorgeous eyes. So drunk on you, your taste, your cunt. You find your bundle curling tighter and tighter, your hips rocking in a frantic pattern, as Aesop sucks down your sweet pleasure.

A rumbling moan sends you over the edge as he dives into you with a fervor.

His tongue, almost too rough now, laps up your desire as your hold on his hair loosens and your legs seem to become leaden underneath you.

Slowly, he pulls back – his chin a wash of cum and spit – as he huffs out a few raggedy breaths. His lips grace your thigh with wet kisses before he finally drops your legs back to the ground and carefully eases himself back up.

Taking a place beside you on the bed – where you are now lounged back, breathing several shuddering gasps – Aesop drags his hand across your torso, fingers snagging on the buttons of your blouse. He walks up your sternum before his thumb finds the curve of your bottom lip and tugs down upon the silky flesh.

“Feeling relaxed, dear one?” he murmurs, watching you with a transfixed sort of expression that spoke of feelings more than just casual fleeting interest and obvious lust.

Huffing a lofty laugh, you shake your head – lulling your head to the side so you can meet his gaze.

“So relaxed, I fear I might not be able to move again.”

His hand trails to the curve of your jaw, where he cups your heated flesh – a lone finger rubbing over the delicate skin of your cheek.

“That would truly be a shame if that were the case.”

“Wouldn’t it just?” you smile brightly. Feeling the ticklish tingle of your legs and the overwhelming sensation of undiluted happiness coursing through you.

Sharp hums once again in agreement before he leans down to place a lingering kiss upon your honey-sweet lips.

[alun1r]

Defense against the Dark Arts Professor Sebastian Sallow & Herbology Professor Valeria Lowell (MC)

[sapphira-mydnyte]

♥Animated some book covers for my next few fics since Sexy Snake King & Rogue Cursebreaker each have their "part 1" finished for right now. The covers are huge & lie below the cut, so go on... have a looksy. Some are missing due to size limitations on tumblr, but they all have one.♥

Fic #3 - Devil in the Dark

Fic #5 - Snake Charmed Class

Fic #6 - Kings of Slytherin

Fic #7 - The Beloved Son

Fic #9 - The Broken Brother

The Animated Covers not shown are as follows:

Sexy Snake King (Part 1 is finished & has been published) Fic #1

The Rogue Cursebreaker (Part 1 is finished & has been published) Fic #2

A King for a King (WIP) Fic #4

Burning Brother's Blood (WIP) Fic #8

Song of the Snake King (WIP) Fic #10

[myokk]

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn’t. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she isn’t going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebels against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

“Well,” she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. “I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook.”

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

“Do you want to start, or should I?”

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn’t she be able to talk to him?

“Here,” she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. “Show me how it’s done.”

from my oneshot, clumsy🫶🫶🫶

[choccy-milky]

seb meeting clora's parents (clive & margaret) for the first time🤭

they come to hogwarts due to clora being kidnapped by ranrok, so seb had to deal with them all on his own LMAO. sorry seb i just love to watch u squirm🙏😇 (from chap 28 of my fic!)

[toonedupfiction]

I have been much more busy than I would like lately so not a lot of new finished art rn... but hey, here I can start sharing a few super old sketches that I never finished from Legacy Disowned with my MC Maggie Darling

[deadeyedoodles]

"Becoming A Sallow"

"Have you two gone on a date yet?" Sebastian drawled almost lazily. She nodded and he frowned. "Did he kiss you?" She hesitated and nodded again. His eyes darkened. She went to look away but his fingers curled under her chin keeping her gaze on to his. "Was it.. nice?" He asked, his voice low.

Her mouth had gone dry. "It was..." Not even nice. How was she to describe that kiss? "I don't think kissing is for me."

His eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "And why's that, sweetheart?"

The way he called her 'sweetheart' was so affectionate. Not a trace of teasing or mocking again, and it confused her as to why it made her stomach flip. She swallowed hard. "I just... It wasn't... enjoyable."

Sebastian's head tilted and her eyes widened when he leaned closer. "Not enjoyable, hm?"

He was moving so slow, as if to give her a chance to back away. "Do you want to have an enjoyable one?" His question was a low murmur.