#month legacy

[maydela]

February's birthday trip ended well, March wanted to make her mother's cake, Anjelo got really into doing puzzles, and the boys enjoyed foosball.

March is loving highschool, she's gone on dates with a few different sims. She really fell for Moriah Ernest (random outfit creation victim ), but Moriah was just stringing her along. February realized they weren't a good match, and decided to just get in the way when they tried to have a date. Now March is really into Matty Walsh (top hat), especially after going to prom with him, and fortunately he seems to like her too.

Harvestfest was the same day as Marquis's birthday, AND prom, so they invited the cousins over for games and a grand breakfast.

Back to prom! Marquis was asked to prom by Damian Specter, just as friends. Marquis is smitten, we'll see how that goes. Marquis was elected Prom Royalty, a huge surprise as a Freshman, and Matty Walsh was Prom Jester. On Monday, March told Moriah that she was no longer interested in hanging out. As you can see, Moriah doesn't care.

On Sunday they had family photos taken. Mostly goofy ones of course, since they are all pretty goofy.

[choccy-milky]

modern AU seb and clora's first interaction 📘📗 (and by modern AU i actually mean super trope-filled high school romance set in the 80's/90's LOL)

[tiarpopdind]

When he gets mad he unintentionally points his wand at her (something he never fixed since their first meeting )

Tris, unfortunately, finds it extremely rude (that's one of the reasons why she disliked him in the beginning)

But let's say she's found a way to work around it :)

[anto-pops]

The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Weeks after discovering some ancient tomes you're unable to decipher, you reach out to the Ministry of Magic Archives for help decoding the timeworn pages. The last thing you'd expected was for Sebastian Sallow to show up, much less for him to be so... attractive. Had he always looked like that?

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian Sallow pursued a professional career as a book nerd and also happens to be really well versed in sex.

Word Count: 6,969 (LMAO)

Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, explicit sexual content, size difference, Sebastian wearing glasses again

Up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure

You honestly didn’t think you’d ever thrown on clothes faster than you did the day someone apparated into your living room with a deafening crack, followed by a crash and a muffled, “Shit, ow.” 

If you were to die, you weren’t eager to do so half-naked and half-asleep. 

After hastily tying your robe around your waist and stuffing your feet in a pair of deteriorating slippers, you cautiously stuck your head into the hallway, the unruly strands of your bed head sticking to your cheeks and poking you in the eye as you assessed the situation. 

At the end of the hall you could see a stack of books scattered across the floor, along with a previously organized collection of newspapers now strewn over the top of a prone body. Said body was stirring beneath the crumpled parchment, and you bit your lip and wished desperately for coffee as you weighed your options. 

Option one: it was a murderer and you should leave immediately. The only problem was that the hallway leading to the front door was now blocked. Shit. 

Option two: it was a burglar, and if you could remember where you’d left your wand last night, you could petrify the man in place until officials came to your aid. 

Option three: it was a murdering burglar, and you might as well attempt to find out as much as you could before you wound up gruesomely cut down so you could at least haunt the bastard. 

As the concealed figure attempted to sit up, you heard another thump as something fell from above them, followed by an irate groan, and you gripped the doorway to your bedroom tightly as you managed to call out a meek, “Hello?” 

All movement and noises in the living room ceased for a moment, the air still and silent. You swore if the intruder dropped so much as a pin, you would hear it. The pair of feet belonging to the unknown man dragged along the floor as he seemingly stood himself up, and figuring that no burglar would be such a noisy wreck, you took your chances and slowly made your way down the hall to take in the damage done to your living space. 

Bizarre as it was to be so civil with someone who’d essentially broken into your home, you rounded the corner and found yourself asking, “Are you alright?” 

You were met with your potential adversary as he turned around, and you were equal parts surprised and confused to discover that it was none other than Sebastian Sallow. It had been years since you’d last seen him, the two of you having gone your separate ways after graduation as you continued hunting down ancient magic sites and he pursued a career within the Ministry. The last letter you’d received from him had come in a little over a year ago, sadly informing you that his sister had finally passed, albeit peacefully. 

To find him now standing in the midst of your demolished living room was a shock in and of itself. 

“Sebastian?” you asked incredulously, your eyes raking down his disheveled but well dressed body. He had certainly grown since you’d last seen him, his long legs accentuated by pressed slacks, and the suspenders that wrapped over his sculpted shoulders left little to the imagination. The button up he wore was just shy of being too small for his broad figure, and when you glanced back up at him, you watched as he brought one of his hands up to his face to fix his crooked glasses. 

“Hi,” he said lamely, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry for the mess– I, uh– well, I think I landed on something when I popped in.” 

Your eyes flicked down once more to the toppled stacks of books that now covered the floor, and your brow cocked of its own accord as you breathed out a laugh, “You don’t say.”

Still reeling from the abrupt wake up call, you could only stare dumbstruck as Sebastian fixed his clothing and picked invisible lint off of his shirt, then offered his hand to you. “Sorry about the books. And the, uh, language. I’m here about the old tomes you found?” 

As you accepted his outstretched hand and tried not to pass out from the firmness of it, you blinked and attempted to figure out what he was referring to. “Tomes?” 

“The ones you wanted looked over?” He let go of your hand to rifle through the small satchel strapped to his thigh, and it took a herculean effort not to drool over the sheer width of his leg. Merlin’s bloody balls… you’d been holed up indoors for too long. “You sent in this consultation request a few weeks ago,” he said, pulling out a small slip of parchment decorated in your familiar scrawl, and then it all started to come back to you. 

It had been nearly a month since, but during your last excursion to Scotland, you’d come across a set of unique, fragile tomes buried deep in an ancient magic site there. As curious as you’d been to read through their contents, the text within was hardly legible, and in truth, you weren’t even sure it was written in English. In a bid to still make use of the age-old books, you had reached out to the Ministry of Magic Archives to have someone potentially aid you in deciphering the timeworn pages. After almost a month with no response, you had simply shelved them all and moved on to planning your next trip.

“I completely forgot,” you muttered, taking the paper from Sebastian to read it over. “I kind of gave up hoping that the Ministry would send someone.”

“They weren’t planning on it,” he started to say, sounding conflicted as to whether or not he should continue. “But after I got my hands on the request, I took something of a personal interest in the case.” 

Jokingly, you teased, “You hold that much sway working in the Archives?” 

“I do when I’m the Archivist.” 

“You’re the Archivist?” Your jaw dropped comically fast, your eyes wider than saucers as you processed his statement. Suddenly you were looking at your former friend in a whole new light. In your mind, you had always assumed the Ministry’s Archivist would be… well, ancient. Old and withered, graying and feeble. Not youthful and– quite frankly– hot. “How did that happen?” 

Sebastian rocked back on his heels as he stuffed his thumbs in his pockets, the very picture of modesty as he shrugged, “It’s technically my trial period since the old Archivist just died a few months ago. But yeah, I guess my thirst for knowledge and reading habits paid off. At the very least it impressed the Minister enough for him to promote me.”

Eventually you managed to pick your chin up off the floor so you were no longer gaping at him like a fish, and you bashfully tucked a particularly stubborn strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat and said, “Well, congratulations then. Glad to hear you’re doing well for yourself.”

Sebastian stared at you for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath, his hand sweeping through the front of his curly hair, “Thanks. But anyways, I can take a look at those tomes now if you’ve still got them?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure. They’re on the shelf by the couch, let me just get changed.” 

“No worries,” Sebastian said quickly, grinning widely as he moved around you further into the living room, his eyes roving over you momentarily. “I’ve got this.”

Did he just… check you out? No way, you thought, shaking the idea from your mind entirely. 

You tracked the brunet as he strode over to the cluttered shelf beside the sofa, watching intently as he moved a few books around until he found the unmistakable tomes propped against the wooden panels. With the utmost care, Sebastian carefully withdrew one of the three with delicate fingers, his touch featherlight and ever conscious of the fragile nature of the bound piece of foreign literature. As he thoughtfully deposited the book on top of the coffee table, you couldn’t help but admire how gentle he was being with it; with hands that big, you found his tender touch to be something of a contrast to his entire person. 

Shamelessly, you also found yourself wondering how those hands of his might feel against your skin. 

Beating back your lustful thoughts with a mental brick, you managed to say with an even tone, “I’m surprised you can tell what’s what in that mess of a shelf. I’ve been told I have a bit of a hoarding problem– most people can’t separate the floor from the walls.” 

“Well, I’m not most people,” he retorted, flashing you a dazzling smile from over his shoulder. “It takes a bookworm to know one. My old overseer at the Archives used to tell me I ‘had no shelf control’.”

The silence that settled over the room was utterly loud, and as Sebastian’s face took on the hue of a ripe tomato, you were fighting a grin with every fiber of your being. Your lips contorted into something resembling a downward smile while the Archivist-in-training turned back to the bookshelf, dragging a hand down his flushed cheeks as a pained groan weaseled its way out of him. “Please forget I said that. I’ve picked up on one too many library jokes in the past five years.” 

Sweet Merlin, he was dorky as hell. Please leave, excessively hot Archivist. Either leave or stay for about six hours and don’t go until I’m ready to let you.

To spare him his dignity and also because you needed to refrain from staring at his attractive backside, you spun on your heel to head into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

“Please,” he sighed in agreement, sounding all too excited about the change in topic. 

“I’ve got tea, coffee, and… water,” you finished pathetically. The barren cupboards above the pantry nearly brought a tear to your eye, and you made a mental note to do some shopping later if you had the time. 

Sebastian set the second tome down on the coffee table at the same time he called out to you, “Tea is fine, thank you.” 

It took a smidge longer than normal to boil the water, seeing as you had to pause your efforts to find your wand buried beneath the piles of maps in your bedroom. Once you had it in hand, however, you whipped up two steaming cups of black tea and returned to Sebastian minutes later to hand his cup over to him. He took it graciously, plainly eyeing you up over the brim of the mug as he took a tentative sip, and your stomach flipped at the suggestive look he fixed you with. 

“I’m a little jealous, you’ve got one hell of a collection here. I almost wish I could take some of these old books off your hands.” 

“Mm,” you hummed around a mouthful of tea, swallowing pointedly. Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Well, I think it might be time for me to clean house a bit anyways. If you wanted to, you could always come back and take your pick of what you like.” 

His brows rose momentarily before settling, a muscle in his defined jaw ticking as he glanced between you and the tomes on the table. Then with a voice like pure sin, Sebastian smoothly said, “And what if I like more than the books?”

Shit, shit. Redirect. You fought to employ every ounce of self-control in your body so you wouldn’t just jump into his strong arms and straddle him right there, but you were acutely aware of a few facts; you looked like you had fought a Hippogriff in your sleep, you had sorely little on under your robe, and Sebastian's eyes had been devouring the noticeable outline of your collarbone for the last minute or so. Fuck. 

“Then it sounds, uh,” you started to say, struggling to form words with the broad shouldered Adonis across from you seemingly undressing you with his eyes. “Like we might be on the same page.” It was the truth– you were as interested in the Archivist as you were in the purpose for his visit– but once the unintentional pun registered, you rolled your eyes and dug the heel of your palm into one eye, swearing softly. To his credit, Sebastian just laughed, taking another hearty sip of his tea as you shyly smiled up at him. 

With more work to be done back at the Ministry and your tomes in hand, Sebastian dutifully let you know that while he couldn't stay presently, he would absolutely be coming back later that night. He followed you into the kitchen to deposit his cup beside the sink, intentionally reaching over your shoulder to set the mug down before letting his fingers ghost along the skin of your neck. Goosebumps broke out all over your body at the contact, and when you turned around to face him with the counter pressing against your rear, his hands came to deftly adjust the revealing neckline of your robe with a coy smirk tugging at his lips. 

“See you at seven,” he purred, leaving you a blushing mess in your kitchen as he stepped back, winked, then apparated away. 

—

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, you had bathed, gone to the market to replenish your sorry excuse of a pantry, tidied up the previously demolished sitting area, and started cooking dinner. Part of you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself with everything, but after spending the entirety of your day reflecting on the stolen glances Sebastian had sent your way and his rather telling comment in the living room, you told yourself it couldn’t get any more obvious than that. 

He had always been rather cute during your time at school, but something about seeing him grown and fully matured had ignited a fire in your veins that stubbornly stayed burning for hours. 

When he showed up five minutes early at six fifty-five with freshly washed hair and wearing a darker version of his earlier outfit, your doubts all but vanished. Clearly you weren’t the only one itching to make a good impression. 

Sebastian followed you into the living room, now noticeably cleaner than it had been earlier in the morning, and held up the bottle of wine he’d been holding at his side. “I know you’ve got tea and water, but uh. I figured why not. It’s Friday after all.”

You smiled softly and let your hands brush against his as you took the wine from him, curiously watching as his fingers flexed when his arm returned to his side. “Thank you. I take it the Archivist doesn’t go to work on the weekends, then?” 

“The Archivist in training doesn’t, but I’m sure my free time will be a commodity before long. I’m pretty sure the last one frequently slept under his desk at the Ministry Headquarters. What about you? Any drab desk jobs to speak of?” 

“Nope,” you said, gesturing to the couch as you turned to head back into the kitchen. “When I need the extra money I’ll help out Sirona at The Three Broomsticks, but for the most part my explorations and Professor Fig’s estate hold me over well enough. I’m hardly ever home anyways, so it’s not like there’s many expenses to keep track of.” 

“I see,” Sebastian huffed as he collapsed into the couch, spreading his long arms along the top of the backrest as he took in the neater state of the living room. “I’m guessing your adventuring is why there’s so many books in the first place. Have you ever thought about upsizing?”

“Hardly,” you set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and chanced a look at the man on the sofa, oddly pleased to see him so at ease in the midst of your cluttered home. “I’d much rather downsize the collection. I don’t even need the majority of what I have– I’ve read through it all ten times over.” 

He nodded, “Fair enough.” 

“Anyway, I imagined you’d be hungry, so dinner’s almost ready.” 

“Oh, damn,” Sebastian mumbled, sitting forward to run a hand through his drying hair as you flitted around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to.”

“Unless you planned on feeding yourself later, I think most shops will be closed by the time you leave,” you said pointedly, turning to hide your grin when you observed the brunet flushing bright red. Miraculously you resisted the urge to add ‘if at all’ to the end of your statement. You unearthed the corkscrew buried deep within the kitchen drawers and popped open the wine bottle, filling two glasses before striding back into the living room to hand one over to Sebastian. “Feel free to take a look at any of the books, see if any of them might be worth taking to the Archives.”

The larger man gave you a lopsided smirk as he took the offered glass and clinked it gently against yours, muttering his agreement before shamelessly ogling your retreating form returning to the kitchen. The cinched waist of your otherwise simple dress was incredibly distracting. He elected not to sift through the piles upon piles of books, opting to instead watch as you hummed to yourself and stirred something on the stove, which Sebastian was beginning to realize smelled pretty fantastic. He was grateful for the distance between you both so you couldn’t hear his stomach growling. 

Once the food was ready, you ate with comfortable conversation flowing between the two of you the entire time. You asked Sebastian what he did in his soon to be nonexistent free time, and you were surprised to hear that he had taken on the role of Feldcroft’s token handyman. In his own words, the muggle approach to fixing things was relatively therapeutic, and he loved getting his hands dirty almost as much as he loved having his nose burrowed in book pages. It explained his physical appearance, at the very least. Until now, you’d just assumed he had a habit of squatting massive stacks of books in the Archives when he was bored. 

In turn he had asked you about your hobbies, about the ancient magic sites you visited, and about living on-the-go so regularly. It was so normal for you now that you barely batted an eye at being away from home for weeks at a time, and you told him as much with a half-hearted shrug. 

Lazily, you swirled the remaining wine around in your glass, bringing it to your mouth as you murmured, “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me here, so I don’t mind it.”

Sebastian watched you intently as you finished off your drink, taking in the pretty flush decorating your cheeks and the delectable way you licked your wine-stained lips in the moment that followed. “Anything, or anyone?” 

“Hm?” 

“You don’t have anyone to come home to? No pets, no kids…” he trailed off, the rest of his question dangling in the air like a lone cloud. Your eyes fell to Sebastian’s hand as he sensually ran his pinched fingers along the stem of his own glass, and his half-hooded eyes hidden behind his glasses said everything in place of the missing portion of his sentence. 

No lover, is what you knew he was indirectly asking. 

“Do you see anyone else here?” you teased, the sides of your mouth curling into a coy smile.

“No,” Sebastian retorted, pushing his empty glass away as he sat back in his seat, amusement etched across his handsome face. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to check. Had to make sure I was reading things correctly.” 

You perched your elbow on the armrest of your chair and balanced your chin on top of your fist casually before asking, “Was that another one of your jokes?” Hoping that you looked more confident than you felt, you mirrored his position and crossed one of your legs over the other, taking immense satisfaction in the way the brunet’s throat bobbed at the sight of your legs outlined through your attire. 

Sebastian looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he’d said, and he rolled his eyes at the same time an airy laugh spilled from your lips. “An accidental one, make no mistake,” he moved forward to the edge of his seat, leaning forward to play with one of the folds of your dress with his index finger. “But I have been thinking about you all day, and I may or may not have convinced myself that you’re way out of my league.” 

“You should be more confident,” you whispered, dropping your hand to clutch at the one the Archivist was inching towards your leg with. His fingers immediately spread to accommodate your smaller ones, and you tugged him a smidge closer so your noses were mere inches apart. Jokingly, you taunted him further by asking, “Did you still want to look at my book collection?” 

Before you could so much as yelp, Sebastian closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and pressed his lips to yours fervently, any lingering awkwardness falling away like leaves on a tree. His free hand came to curl around the back of your neck, holding you firmly against his mouth as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss further, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the brutish feeling of his broad hand holding you in place. 

He pulled away just enough to brush a tinier, more delicate kiss against the tip of your nose before he sighed, “I really don’t give a damn about the books right now.” 

A budding Archivist not caring about books? The scandal, is what you wanted to say, but then Sebastian’s lips were back on yours, swallowing your pending comment with a ferocity that had your stomach churning wantonly. Those brilliant hands of his left your neck and your hand to trail along your waist, his fingers digging firmly into the bodice of your dress to pull you towards him, and you followed his guidance all too willingly as he urged you from your seat. Within seconds you were in his lap, melting against him as he ground his hips up into yours while simultaneously using his hands to rock you against his hardening cock, and a satisfied groan emitted from him as you allowed him to move you as he pleased. 

In-between kisses, Sebastian managed to croak out, “Bedroom?” 

You barely managed a nod, too enthralled by the man under you to form actual words, and at the same time you dove back in for another heated kiss, Sebastian looped an arm around your back and the other under your ass as he stood up, lifting you with him as though you weighed nothing. Instinctively you hooked your legs around his hips, letting him haul you along to your bedroom while your hands flew to his neck to clutch at him ardently in a bid to keep your mouth glued to his. His ability to multi-task was something to compliment later on, because he kept walking and working his mouth over yours with a finesse that bordered on inhuman. 

The next thing you knew you were being thrown down on the mattress, bouncing in place briefly before you had to bite your lip to stifle a curse as you watched Sebastian fucking crawl up the bed towards you, predatory and sexy as hell. As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed for one of his suspender straps and pulled him closer, kissing him once again and moaning eagerly when you felt his hand grip at the seductive curve of your waist to squeeze before he settled on top of you. With his knees on either side of you, it was impossible to overlook the feeling of his achingly hard cock pressing down against your leg, and Sebastian groaned loudly when you tried lifting your hips to convey your impatience. 

“Someone’s excited,” he murmured against your swollen lips, grinning to himself as you worked to catch your breath. “Have you been thinking about me, too?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, your train of thought momentarily derailing when Sebastian moved so his chest was pressing against your clothed breasts, his hips flush with yours to better grind against you. “Don’t you own a mirror?”

Instead of replying to your thinly veiled compliment, Sebastian dipped his head into the crook of your neck to nip and kiss his way along your jaw with a rumbling moan, the force of his ministrations forcing your head back against the pillows. He was as eager as you were, that much was certain. As he rutted his concealed cock against your thigh, you heard and felt him shudder against you, and in an attempt to silence himself, the Archivist’s plush lips latched firmly onto a patch of skin under your jaw to suck a mark there. 

The stinging sensation of him biting down had your eyes fluttering shut, your entire being relishing in the light pain his teeth bestowed upon you, and Sebastian blindly reached for your wrist to pin your arm above your head. The dominant display had you voicing your approval in the form of a low moan, enjoying how being stretched out for him allowed for his other hand to rake down your side to start bunching up your dress. His movements didn’t cease as he lifted his hips slightly to free up the rest of the fabric trapped beneath him, and he expertly collected the material into a disheveled heap below your navel. When his dexterous fingers ghosted along the waistband of your undergarments, your next breath caught in your throat and caused you to gasp shakily. 

You felt as Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk against your spit-slick skin before sitting back on his heels to murmur, “You’re so noisy.” 

Through his lashes, he watched as a brilliant flush swept up your neck to cover your face, and you timidly tried to hide your cheeks with the back of your free hand. “S-Sorry,” you stammered, but the man above you was having absolutely none of your self-consciousness. 

Your mediocre shield was wrenched away from your face and pinned up alongside your other hand in an instant, and you blinked up at Sebastian in blatant surprise as he leaned menacingly over you. “Don’t stop,” he implored you, biting his lip as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “I love it. 

The brunet secured your wrists into one of his hands so he could drop the other one back to your aching center, swiping two of his fingers up your slit through your underwear to feel the wetness that had collected there. The sensation left you breathless, another choked gasp weaseling its way past your lips and earning a dark chuckle from Sebastian. His digits moved up to slide beneath the fabric blocking his path, and a low groan sounded from him as he felt how truly soaked you were from his efforts. Without looking away from your pinched features, he gingerly slid a single finger in, biting his lip hungrily at the way your lips parted and your head rolled to the side when he began steadily pumping in and out of you. 

When you felt his thumb begin to rub against your clit, your eyelids fluttered shut from the intense pleasure that washed over you, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “Fuck, Sebastian–”

The hand he had securely wrapped around your wrists tightened a fraction to draw your mind out of the gutter, and he roughly gritted out, “Look at me, darling– open those pretty eyes for me.” You couldn’t help but oblige him when he referred to you so sweetly, and when you cracked your eyes open once again, his body seemed to shudder with delight as he growled, “So fucking perfect. My name sounds damn good when you say it like that.”

With his gaze burning into yours and the close proximity between the two of you, you didn’t think the overwhelming euphoria you felt could get any better. That is, until he added a second finger into the mix. The initial stretch was felt only briefly before his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the persistent ministrations against your clit muting any discomfort and leaving you arching brainlessly beneath him as that hot, incessant feeling in your gut roared to life. It was tantalizing, and your hips bucked off the mattress in an attempt to chase his movements and reach the climax you were utterly desperate for. 

“Please, please,” you begged mindlessly, your desire to come so potent that it was almost painful. “Please, Sebastian, please.” 

“Already?” he tsk’d mockingly, shaking his head minutely as he eagerly wet his bottom lip and removed his thumb from your center. “I think you can hold on a bit longer, don’t you? I’d much rather end this with my cock, if it’s all the same to you.” 

The lack of friction sobered you up instantly, and the lustful haze that had clouded your mind cleared enough for you to blink blearily up at him, a small frown playing on your lips. “Really?” 

Sebastian cocked a brow at you, as though daring you to tell him he was being unreasonable. “Would you rather this end with my hands?” 

You tried to roll your hips up into his hand before relenting rather quickly, and you muttered, “F-Fine. Just hurry up, I might throttle you if I have to wait any longer.” 

Sebastian grinned wickedly at the way your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you before torturously withdrawing them. A small sigh slipped from you when he let go of your wrists and slid away to hastily begin shedding his clothing, taking care to be gentler with his glasses as he set them down on the nightstand, and once he was wholly bare before you, the only thing you could do was stare. 

His physique was mind boggling; toned, defined muscles made up every inch of his torso, accentuated by broad shoulders that you were convinced didn’t belong anywhere near someone who worked in a glorified library of all places. His skin was sun-kissed and peppered with freckles, a testament to the aforementioned physical labor he claimed to enjoy. It hadn’t made much sense to you before when he’d told you– forgoing magic to use his own hands to help fix things. But if a habit like that gave a man a body like his, you would never doubt his preferences again. 

All of Sebastian looked positively divine, including his cock. Thick, hard, and twitching tellingly, it arched proudly against his taut stomach, the head violently red and already leaking beads of pre-cum in response to the situation at hand. You swallowed thickly when you realized that that would be inside of you, and you were suddenly grateful that he’d told you to wait. Not to discredit his fingers or anything, but you had a nagging feeling that you would enjoy his lower parts far more than his hands. 

Ignoring the nervousness that settled in your stomach, you sat up to quickly pull the sleeves of your dress down your arms, wriggling out of the attire quickly before throwing the bunched up material to the floor. As you reached down to slide your underwear off, Sebastian returned to kneel in front of you and stopped you by lightly pushing you flat against the pillows, then ran his hands along the plane of your stomach. 

“Allow me,” he said chivalrously, taking care to gently slip his fingers under the waistband and sensually remove the material entirely. With nothing else separating you from him, Sebastian took his time eating you alive with his eyes, letting his hands drag up your thighs and squeeze at your knees before pushing your legs apart so he had space to siddle forward. The blunt head of his cock bumped against your slick cunt, and a barely there shudder ran down your spine in anticipation. 

It took a good amount of self-control for you to let Sebastian press into you achingly slow, his eyes pinching shut while his teeth savaged his bottom lip, and when he was finally sheathed inside of you fully, the brunet was practically shaking with the desire to fuck your brains out. He waited, though, his palms sliding from your knees to your upper thighs to dig his fingers into the skin there, raking his hungry gaze over you while he gave you a moment to adjust. 

You appreciated the sentiment, because Merlin– he was big. It was impossible to overlook every delicious inch of him pressing against your inner walls, the subtle grinding of his hips stretching you out more and more to the point where your breath continuously caught in your throat. It felt good, though. Good enough to leave you wondering why you’d never sought him out when the two of you were still in school together. 

At some point, however, you realized Sebastian was fucking with you. It probably had something to do with the repetitive, shallow thrusts he teased you with, and when you craned your neck up to look at him, he was already staring at you with a wide grin splitting his face, his tongue poking out between his teeth. 

“W-What?” you grumbled, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Are you going to make me beg or something? I already said please.” 

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” Sebastian said, rocking his hips just enough to leave you arching towards him. “You look like you’re trying really hard to keep it together. It’s cute.” 

“I’m flattered,” you breathed out around an airy laugh, then wriggled your hips down in an attempt to bait the Archivist into moving. Mercifully, it worked. 

Sebastian gave a throaty moan, leaning forward to brace one hand on the side of your waist while the other gripped at your thigh tighter, and he withdrew his cock languidly before plunging back in. Your breathing hitched and your head fell back against the pillows at the abrupt sensation, and the sight of you so obviously enthralled by his efforts was what expelled the remainder of his patience. 

Holding onto your thigh with bruising strength, Sebastian fell into a steady, toe-curling pace. He pulled you onto his cock with every deep plunge, digging his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts, and his reward was the sound of your shaky voice reverberating off of the bedroom walls as your spine rounded. You keened loudly, overcome with both the feeling and the sight of Sebastian– because not only was he deceptively good at rendering your mind into a puddle of mush, he looked amazing while he was doing it. The muscles in his arms rippled as he supported himself above you, his brown curls falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his sculpted shoulders, and when your arousal had you clamping down on his cock harder, those full, kissable lips of his fell open around a guttural groan. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grit out through his clenched teeth, gazing down at you with lust-dark eyes that made your blood burn hot in your veins. “So bloody gorgeous– like a fucking work of art.”

His praises left you whining in earnest, and you didn’t bother to keep your voice down in the slightest. With every sinful noise that escaped you, Sebastian’s hold on you seemed to intensify, and his thick cock filled you harder with every desperate pump of his hips. His ragged breathing left you craving more of him– all of him– and you rutted against him as much as was physically possible in a bid to take him deeper. 

Sebastian picked up on your desires wordlessly, and he shifted his hold on your thigh so his hand was looped around it to better pull it to the side, giving him the room he needed to spear into you with wicked precision. It also allowed him to discover what you sounded like crying out for more, your voice reedy and strident within the four walls of the bedroom, and when he shifted his hips down to achieve new depths, your moans echoed around him. He had to be hitting a good spot. 

“Right there, Sebastian, fuck– right there–” 

Your lower half was positively shaking, and Sebastian was honestly at his limit. He sat up momentarily before grabbing both of your legs, watching as you blearily tried to figure out what was going on while he pulled your knees over his shoulders. Moving over you swiftly and urgently, he bent you back and rammed his thick cock back into your tight heat, animalistic grunts sounding from him as you arched tight and cried out, but you were barely given the space to breathe before he was fucking you hard– hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left screaming and gasping helplessly at the sheets. 

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and pounded into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands grasped at the sweaty, flushed skin of your waist, pulling you close while he filled you over and over and drank in your noisy pleas for more until your back was arching clear off the bed and your thighs were shaking. You were barely holding on, your climax from earlier roaring back to life in your gut and rendering your tongue a lead weight in your mouth.

Forming words was damn near impossible, but you still managed to babble out, “Like that, Sebastian, fuck, just like that– I’m close– please, I’m–”

He obliged you instantly, keeping up his pace while he brought his hand between your legs to thumb over your bundle of nerves, his hips angling upwards with every deep, precise plunge. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched through your slitted eyes as he bent forward to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips, swallowing your breathy whines with a satisfied expression playing over his face. “Come on, darling. Let’s hear how you sound falling apart on my cock, yeah?” 

As if you even needed the encouragement. 

Every muscle in your body tensed as a wave of unparalleled ecstasy crashed over you, and your hands flew to Sebastian’s shoulders to absentmindedly attempt to grasp at something to ground yourself. His movements didn’t stop as you writhed beneath him– milking every possible noise out of you with unconcealed fervor– and it was only when you sagged into the sheets twitching and whimpering that Sebastian let your legs drop to the sides so he could wrap his arms around you to give you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming too, your name tumbling over his lips as he fell alongside you. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian murmured directly beside your ear, still draped in a boneless heap on top of you as you trembled against him. One of your hands slid up to bury your fingers in his tangled curls, and you mumbled something unintelligibly into the crook of his neck. He pulled back slightly to hear you better, “What?” 

Your eyes were still glazed over as you came down from your post-coital high, “Are the Archives chock-full of sex books or something?” 

Sebastian smirked tiredly at you, pulling out gently before collapsing beside you with his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. “One or two. Why?” 

You stared up at the ceiling in a daze and shook your head softly to yourself, “Because you’re a little too good at that. It’s kind of scary.”

“Good scary or bad scary?” 

“Good scary,” you clarified, turning over so you could face the brunet and smile softly at him. The way his entire face lit up at the sight of you would live on in your mind for years to come, you were sure, so you wistfully said, “We should do this again sometime.” 

Sebastian paused, leaving you worried for a short second until he wriggled in a way that let him press his hard cock against your stomach, and he closed the distance between the two of you to give you a chaste kiss on your nose before grinning mischievously. “Like right now?” 

You raised your eyebrows in silent surprise before laughing playfully, rolling over onto him before taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. It was a sweet moment– tender, affectionate, and heartwarming. It only ceased when you let go of his cheeks to move down his larger body, already itching to put your hands to better use. 

The only thing that stopped Sebastian from staying holed up within the warm, comfortable confines of your bedroom with you forever was the imminent arrival of Monday, but Saturday and Sunday were days well spent. You were rather disappointed when your time together came to an end– enough so that you actually pouted when Sebastian had slid out from beneath the covers to get ready for work. Thankfully though, the Archivist was as unwilling as you were to call it quits after everything, and following a heated, lengthy kiss, he promised to come back as soon as he was able. 

It only took him eight hours to find himself back in your bed, but you knew then that it would be impossible to stay away from him for very long from here on out. 

[goonmypenis]

i drew this like a month ago and i am TERRIFIED to post anything on here but ive been convinced

[pokeberry5]

(who's gonna save you, hero?)

i love whump fics where tim ends up on the ropes alone and doesn't know if anyone's gonna reach him in time

i really really love leonardo romero's inks and jordie bellaire's colors from the "i am the gun" mini telling the zur-en arrh backstory (in batman issues #128-130), so this is another loose style study

i had this frame in mind specifically, altho i couldnt quite commit to the hard inks

ALSO the concept was loosely based off the issues in legacy ('tec (1940) #698-99) where tim goes undercover and then gets nabbed by lockup and his comm cuts off in the middle of telling nightwing what's going on, which also gave us this great (but misleading) cover

[frostfyrezero]

Happy pride, fellow gays

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Flagrant Favourism.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖛

summary: Sebastian Sallow should have been a Ravenclaw. (series masterlist)

cw: 6.7k words, career-and-life-choices-related angst, SMUT (18+ ONLY), unprotected af sex, fingering, oral (m. receiving), questionable behavior if he doesn't have a breeding kink, not the ending you deserve but the ending you're gonna get, fem!oc/reader. requests open.

a/n: i'm so blown away by the love for this series. thank you for all the support and kindness you've shown!! unfortunately for everyone, i suck at endings :/ xx laney

“Come on, Seb! If we get there early, we might see the Bloody Baron run Peeves through with his sword again!” the sixth-year trotting past him called over his shoulder as he joined the throng queuing at the Slytherin common room door. Sebastian laughed and waved him on, promising to be down in a minute. Wish I could remember that kid’s name. Oh, well, no sense learning it now. 

Not now, on the night of his final Hogwarts end-of-year feast. When he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, he hadn’t been any taller than the runt who was currently getting trampled through the door by the gargantuan Gerald Gillooly. He turned his head away from them and caught sight of himself in the aged and spotty floor-length mirror that was at the top of the staircase he stood on. He was surprised not to see that runty little first-year who’d quietly begged his sister to hold his hand while they watched their peers get sorted by a smelly old hat. He had cleared six feet over a year ago without stopping, and the man who blinked back at him looked older and more haggard than he felt. Perhaps that came with the territory when you’d done what he’d done. 

This thought made him pause, one foot in mid-air ready to step down the stairs and join his classmates. What if he was aging more rapidly because of what he’d done to his uncle? Could the guilt he was carrying around, though he had thought it absolved, be etching itself into the lines on his forehead and the corner of his eyes? Would Anne have had something to say about the dark circles under his eyes? His shoulders sagged a little at the thought, although a sad smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how broad they had gotten. His Slytherin robes were beginning to pull at the ankles and wrists, but Sebastian never could justify a flighty purchase like robe tailoring when there was so little time left to wear them. 

So little time. Months left at Hogwarts had dwindled down to a few weeks, and his counseling meeting the previous Monday with his head of house had solidified the warbling jelly of nerves in his gut.

“So, Mr. Sallow.” Professor Ronen had leaned across his desk, gloved hands crossed beneath his chin. “The purpose of this meeting is to discuss your ambitions outside of your Hogwarts education, as your graduation date is nearing. And, as we belong to the noble house of Salazar Slytherin, ambition is everything. Now, what age are you?”

“Nineteen next month, sir.”

“Excellent.” The Charms professor scribbled on the roll of parchment in front of him. “And what were your highest N.E.W.T. results?”

“Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, sir.” 

Ronen was ecstatic. “Ah!” He rubbed his hands together and looked at Sebastian with a special glint in his dark eyes. “And what career do you plan to pursue with such skills?”

Uh…

Truth be told, Sebastian had never been able to visualize a career that appealed to him. Lack of ambition, never. But lack of clarity for that ambition? Absolutely. He asked too many questions, over-thought each decision when it had come time to write owls to the Ministry and inquire about job postings. It had paralyzed him to this point, worry about choosing incorrectly and being stuck with a profession he detested gnawing at him from morning ‘till evening. 

Then, as always, she’d been there. Curled up at his feet and happily plotting the layout of her desk in the Department of Mysteries. And maybe whatever the future held wasn’t that nerve-wracking.

“You don’t even know if you’ll have a desk,” Seb had murmured on a rainy night in the Undercroft after his meeting with Ronen, running his hand through her hair while she doodled on the back of an old History of Magic essay and Ominis softly dictated a letter on the other side of the fireplace. She had looked up at him with those great big eyes and laughed.

“Good point. But come on, wouldn’t the Department of Mysteries be perfect for my little Ravenclaw drop-out? It’s all questions, all day.”

“You could stand working with me all day, every day?”

“Another good point.” She twisted her face up and stuck her tongue out at him. I love you. Say it, tell her, tell her now!

Time was definitely running short, for more than landing a career. 

The rest of April, after they’d done something resembling kissing outside the Three Broomsticks, had been…stiff. Tense. They both still refused to acknowledge their rampant attraction to one another, and Sebastian didn’t know how much longer he could take this. To make matters worse, Ominis kept being very pragmatic about the whole situation.

“Is it a good idea to be with a woman who is as equally stubborn as yourself?” he had asked Seb after being debriefed on the events of that fateful evening in Hogsmeade. Sebastian had rolled his eyes.

“Rolling my eyes,” he narrated absently, and Ominis sighed. 

“Sure, don’t listen to me, an objective outsider and the only one in this whole situation who isn’t acting based on pure, insane passion. What could I know?”

“She’s not stubborn about everything,” Sebastian let slip with a grin, the image of her legs locking around his hips and the sound of her moans filling every available inch of space in his brain. He realized his mistake when Ominis’ eyebrows dropped and tried to recover. “We get along fine. It’s just this one, stupid thing.”

“If you care for her so much, why won’t you just end this and ask her to dinner?” Ominis inquired. Damn that logic of his.

“Well, because,” Sebastian dead-panned. “Then I won’t have won.”

“I hope she curses you when you finally break down.”

And now it was the final night of the school year, of all his school years, and Sebastian found himself clutching his heart through a low-burning panic attack as he made his way to the common room entrance. His legs were on autopilot as he climbed through it and trailed a few meters behind the rest of his chattering and excited schoolmates. Each of his fingers sported a vicious hangnail by the time he entered the Great Hall, hardly paying attention to the enchanted galaxies and shooting stars streaking across its deep indigo ceiling. 

Why hadn’t he given his post-educational plans more consideration before now? The thought had produced so much anxiety within him that he’d been quite content to put a stopper in it until now, but now the anxiety reared its head with a vengeance and snapped and coiled dangerously inside him. 

Sebastian stopped at the end of the Slytherin table and glanced down its length. This was last night that he would be shoveling down its scrumptious food without a second thought; it seemed like a childish ingratitude now that he was facing the prospect of growing and catching all his sustenance over the summer, alone. 

The only available seat was next to Ominis, whose hand was planted firmly on the bench next to him to reserve it. Sebastian stumbled over and dropped into it. 

“Don’t sound so happy to be here,” Ominis muttered, passing the large plate of roast to his right and missing Grace Pinch-Smedley’s hands by a good distance. She smiled graciously at Sebastian and grasped the platter away from Ominis, who grunted in thanks. Despite the delightful-looking spread, Sebastian found himself unable to put anything on his plate.

“Psst.” Someone pinched the back of his elbow and he yanked it away on instinct, whipping around to catch the offender. She was sitting directly behind him at the table opposite, her back already facing him once more by the time he turned around. “Last night, birdie. Got a job picked yet?” she muttered over her shoulder, low enough so only he could hear as he strained his neck towards her.

His heart hammered. Why did she have to be the one to ask? “No, that blasted crystal ball only showed me winning the Quidditch World Cup in ten years, and I’ve no idea what that meant.”

“Oh, unknowable universe,” she sighed. Sebastian noticed that she had a black ribbon in her hair for the occasion. He slipped a finger into one of the loops and felt it.

“This is nice.” 

“Well, there you go! I hear Gladrags is hiring right now.”

Sebastian scowled. “Stop, please,” he muttered, turning his body away from her and feeling a little bad about it at the same time. She twisted herself around and grabbed at his sleeve again.

“Hey, it was a joke! You’re going to be fine, Seb.” She set her fork down fully and flipped her legs over the other side of the bench so she could tickle his back. Sebastian buried the reluctant grin on his face in a long gulp of water.

There was so much mingling and getting up to yell over people among the four house tables that no one paid them any mind as she continued running her fingers, distracted, up and down his back. Since this whole mess had begun, there’d been entirely too many casual, unspoken touches that set his mind reeling while he tried to figure out just what this woman was to him and how she felt about it all. But he didn’t even have the bandwidth to feel the usual level of arousal that her touch always conjured. “Come on, birdie, look at me,” she said, and Sebastian heard the tone in her voice as it dropped an octave that meant she wanted the teasing to pause temporarily. 

He turned to face her fully, and the look of pity (and, was that an ounce of longing he saw in those endless eyes?) carved into her mouth made him want to eat his robes. 

“I know things have been…” She glanced around the Great Hall, apparently hoping to find the perfect words written across the walls in floating candles. “Strange. With us.” She was floundering, and pleading with Sebastian to understand what she meant, but he couldn’t find it within himself to help her. He just stared, impassive and paralyzed by all things he’d neglected in his stupid, selfish youth. “But, they don’t have to be.”

She sucked in a deep breath, then jerked her head in Ominis’ direction, where the Gaunt had been slyly turning his ear towards their conversation. “Bugger off,” she hissed at him, and he snorted.

“The first time you two have been interesting in months and now you don’t want to keep me apprised,” he grumbled. But he turned his attention back to his plate and to the very inventive discussion about what Professor Black got up to in the summer holidays. Sebastian waited, still staring blankly at her, for her to reboard her train of thought. 

“Stop looking at me like I’ve got horns sprouting out of my forehead, first of all,” she began, and Sebastian blushed, dropping his eyes. “Look. What if I stayed at Feldcroft, just for the summer, and we worked on finding something you love to do for work, and get the cottage looking presentable. Then, you could sell it to that sweet, old couple down the road from you, the ones who wanted it for their daughter and her new husband. And you can move to London with Ominis and me, and we can just…figure it all out. In our own time.”

One of the few things Sebastian hated about himself was that when he was thinking of something to say, the rudest answer usually supplied itself first. “Wow, you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” “I’ve had to, because you haven’t!” she immediately spat back, poking him in the chest hard with her pointer finger. “I know it seems like a terrifying void out there–” She motioned outside the walls of the castle that still kept them safe and warm for one more night, “–but there’s so much time to do whatever you want–”

He cut her off, his hands fisting into his hair in frustration. “Whatever I want! I’ve no idea what I want!” he cried, accidentally jostling the student sitting on the other side of him with his long limbs as he rose to his feet. 

“Where are you going?” she asked. She stood and followed him, weaving through the crowd of chatting kids. Part of him wanted her to, and the other part didn’t. Where he usually found solace from his anxiousness with her, tonight he found only more push to confront it. Her plan was good. No, it was wonderful; the thought of living with her for the first few months of their adult lives and having her to help him find his passion? It sounded like heaven on earth. 

And apart from the appeal of her career counseling, sharing a living space with her might also provide some easy lubricant to the other plans he was working on. The plans that involved visiting her in her dreams again, for however long it took, in hopes of pushing her to the brink of sexual frustration and forcing her to confess her feelings to him. The book Legilimency and the Dreamer had been stuffed in his nightstand, collecting dust for the past few weeks while N.E.W.T. studying took up every spare waking and sleeping moment he had. But he had every intention of stealing it from the school (“It’s a dangerous book, really,” he had reasoned when the disapproving glare of Madam Pince appeared in his mind at the idea) and taking it with him when he left. It had been too easy, too good, too fucking wonderful poking around her subconscious that he longed to be back inside it. And her, as well.

He cut a sharp left turn away from the Slytherin table and past the distracted gazes of the professors, who were looking just as giddy, if not more, than their students that the summer holiday was imminent. He pounded up the staircase tucked at the back of the hall and hoped he wouldn’t hear any footsteps behind him. He just needed it to be quiet, just for a minute, so he could clear his head of everything and calm down.

When he reached the dust-covered storeroom at the top of the stairs, he let out a sigh. Then the candles on the unlit candelabra next to him blazed to life and a tiny scream jumped out of him.

“Will you talk to me now?” she demanded, her hands on her hips and her wand clutched loosely in one of them when he caught sight of her. 

“You have an extraordinarily light tread.”

“Thank you.” She sniffed and threw her hair over her shoulders like he’d just called her beautiful. Maybe he had. At this point, his brain was such a stew of anxiety and panic that he couldn’t trust a word out of his own mouth. 

Sebastian made his way over to some crates that had been stacked in a corner, dust cloths covering a few of them, and plopped down on one. She watched him, and her expression softened when she saw the way his chest was pumping air in short gasps. “Seb,” she said, jogging across the room and kneeling in front of him, between his legs. Her hands slid up to his face, and her voice suddenly lost all its tough-loving edge. “Hey, hey. Everything’s going to be alright.” “And what if it isn’t?” he choked. The future encroached on him with its talons outstretched, and his vision swirled a little. Air couldn’t reach his lungs quickly enough. “What if I choose wrong, and I have to spend the rest of the life I traded my sister’s for on NOTHING?” He was shouting now, he was sure of it, but the din floating up the stairs from the Great Hall covered it. When he glanced at the woman holding his face for the first time, he saw her lips had parted in shock.

She swallowed. “I didn’t know…I didn’t know that was why you were so scared.” Sebastian knew it was his own fault; he had swept his uncle’s and Anne’s death under the rug and rolled the rug up so tightly that he sometimes forgot about it himself. 

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“I know,” she whispered. Her thumb stroked his cheek. "But you didn't trade anything for your life, sweet boy. It's yours alone. To do what you want with." The candlelight was twisting weird, dancing figures over her pretty face as she gazed up at him. Why are we always here? He thought. Always here, always close, but never anywhere further. Then she cleared her throat. “So, how about it? Let me stay with you and…figure it out.”

Yes, please, just stay forever. “I don’t know,” his double-crossing mouth said. “What if we can’t sell the cottage? And what about Ominis, in London? He’ll need you there. And what if I still–”

“Oh, see, you’re asking all the wrong questions, baby bird.” She forced him to look at her, her hands clamped down, hard, on either side of his neck. “What do you want to do? Answer me, don’t think.” 

“I want to be with you.” For Merlin’s goddamned sake, it slipped out so easily once he finally got out of his own way. Her eyes rounded, and he half-expected her to whoop out a victory cry. He had lost, given in, quit their stupid little game. Her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him before he had a chance to realize what he’d even said. 

A broken sob of relief passed between their mouths, unclear where it had come from. Her lips were wonderful and soft, better than the dream. It was all better than the dream, he realized: the scent of her filling up his nose and the very real weight of her pressing desperately close to him while they sucked down air in the few reluctant seconds they would break apart for. 

As she shrugged off her robes and lifted her leg to scoot onto his lap, the full severity of how stupid he was hit him squarely in the face. He had been dancing around her, wasting his time with little fantasies and dreams, and why? When he dug his hand into the flesh just below her ass, hoping to confirm this was all really happening, she moaned, dulcet and a little irked, and bit his bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” he laughed, after she had relinquished it with a satisfying smack against his teeth. “Didn’t expect that.” She pulled herself off of him and sat back on her heels while still straddling him. 

“Thank Christ you finally gave in,” she was muttering under her breath. Her fingers worked into the knot of his tie and she grunted in frustration, her hips inadvertently rocking against his cock and making blood flow out of his head and into his lap. “I was thinking of slipping you some veritaserum. I’ve been going mad.”

Sebastian groaned. “You’ve been going mad? I think my hair’s falling out.”

She gave a satisfied grunt as the tie fell loose around his neck, and she pulled him by both ends of it back to her lips. Every pent up ounce of stress and anxiety was rapidly pouring out of him as they kissed with fury, their tongues licking against each other and driving Sebastian wild. She pressed her lips to the spot on his neck where his jaw and ear met, and he discovered with a whimper that would have embarrassed him three months ago that it was his sweet spot. He begged her to do it again (“Shit, please, there again, baby,” was about as eloquent as he could manage) and she obliged with fervor. Her teeth sunk into the spot, pressure and delicious pain getting him harder by the second.

He grabbed her hand and showed her what she was doing to him, and it made her abandon her efforts on marking his neck to say, “God, is that all for me?”

“Who else?” She licked her lips and swallowed, seeming impressed as she stroked him up and down. She swore.

“Seb, this has been ridiculous.”

“Yes, it has,” he agreed, already irritated that now he had actually tasted her, nothing else would ever be as sweet. “But you won.” 

A grin that would have looked more at home on his own mischievous face spread across her lips before he kissed it away once more. “I did, didn’t I?” she said with a small quiver of triumph and pride in her voice as she pulled back to look at him. He was well aware that he probably looked ridiculous, hair pushed askew by her fingers and his gaze stupid and lovestruck. “Every minute of torture since I saw you in that stupid towel–” She punctuated the last word by pushing his robes off his shoulders and throwing them on the ground behind them, “–totally worth it. Every assignment I missed, every class I couldn’t concentrate in, all of those fucking dreams…”

Sebastian’s heart skipped two beats. “DreamS?” he inquired, frantic, while she was tugging off her grey, woolen tights. He emphasized the “s”, barely daring to believe that she could have had more than one without his influence. Had it really been this easy the whole time? Had she been eating herself alive like he had since, what had she said? That stupid towel? 

Since then? Why on earth had he bothered planting little seeds in her mind about being with him? The idea had taken root long before he’d even made his little nighttime excursion. God, this woman would never stop surprising him.

She huffed. “Yes, asshole, dreams. Too many dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?” He couldn’t help teasing her, not even now. When she sat back down in his lap with her tights removed, her core made contact with his cock and they both swallowed back moans at the sensation. Sebastian could feel how wet she was, even through his trousers. Wet and warm. And real. 

“Want me to show you, birdie?”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he breathed, looking up at her like a supplicant at the altar. There was a fuzzy glow emanating from all around her, and he wondered briefly if it was the candle-lit room or if she was part-deity, about to lead him through the “pearly gates” he’d heard her mention before. She leaned down and kissed him, her fingertips grazing his jaw. Their lips fought a little bit before he had to smile and she won, yet again, her tongue sliding against his. She tasted perfect.

“Did you have cherry tart for dessert?” he asked when she broke apart and pressed her forehead to his. In spite of their already-compromising position, she blushed and nodded. “Well,” Sebastian continued, his hands moving down her waist and thighs to flip up the front of her skirt. “I never got to have mine.” His voice was husky and broken, but he couldn’t care. 

His fingers found purchase on the hem of her underwear. They skimmed over the lace there and they both gave up on trying to be cool and groaned. “Yeah, you were there,” she sighed with a slight choke as he ran one finger up her covered slit and pushed against her clit. “You touched me like that.” Sebastian applied more pressure and rubbed in light circles, and in what felt like seconds, she was circling her hips and grinding against his hand, just like she’d been so close to doing in the Three Broomsticks. 

He decided he’d burn the entire castle to the ground before he let them be interrupted again, though.

Her arms were around his neck once more, hanging on for dear life while she pushed against him and chased down the orgasm that, if her huffy moans and whines were any indication, was looming near. Sebastian had tasted true power before and hated himself for not hating it, but never anything quite as potent as the weight of the woman he loved pressing to his chest and begging him to touch her, to really touch her. He slipped his hand inside the lacy scrap covering her heat without any break in his motions on her clit, and she cried, “Fuck, Bash!”

Sebastian moaned a curse out into his bitten lip and held it between his teeth while he slid one finger into her with the utmost ease. He had only ever heard her call him that once before, during a tense Slytherin/Gryffindor match on the Quidditch field. He’d flown past the stands where she had been clutching the edge of the box, squinting into the blinding sunlight to try and locate the bludger that had been dead set on de-brooming him, just long enough to hear her scream, “Fuckin’ kill ‘em, Bash!” and the fire in her voice had almost done the bludger’s job and knocked him clean out of the air.

She was soaking through her underwear, and the feeling of it pressed against his aching cock was getting him drunk. He pumped the finger upward and watched her shake and chase it back down with her hips. Perfect, he thought, utterly perfect. The idea that nothing would ever be able to compare to that dream seemed ridiculous now, when the real thing hovered over his lap. “I’ve had dreams about you, too, you know.”

“Is that so?” A smug smile flashed across her lips before it vanished in favor of a fucked out scream as he inserted another finger that stretched her even further.

“Mmhm. Awful ones.”

“Like what?” Words were becoming harder for her to gasp out. Sebastian increased the speed of his hand and twisted the fingers inside her so they were brushing against her walls in just the right way.

“I fucked you senseless into my bed.” You braggart idiot. “And I couldn’t think about anything else for a goddamned week. You sounded so fucking sweet, calling me ‘birdie’, and so tight around my cock. I never wanted to wake up.” She shuddered and cried out, driving her hips downward and coming all over his fingers. The peacock in him preened, wondering if the secretly shared memory had been what pushed her over the edge. Her orgasm was so powerful that, when he pulled his fingers away and slipped them into his mouth before she had a chance to protest, he saw a dark stain left on the lap of his trousers. He groaned around his fingers and tipped her chin down with his free hand so she could see the mess she’d made. 

She moaned a feeble, “M’sorry,” when she saw the spot she’d left, shocking Sebastian so much that he used the hand holding her chin to swat her, barely making contact, across her cheek and glared. 

“That is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled, holding her in place until she nodded with a whimper and acknowledged it. “I never want to hear you say sorry for anything that gorgeous again.”

If sneaking into her dreams had been wrong of him, he couldn’t imagine that this was any sort of punishment for it.

She grumbled, “You smacked me.” Sebastian snorted.

“Barely.”

“Yes, and therein lies the problem.” He swore as his slacks tightened even more across his lap, and she giggled, wiggling her hips. He bucked into her, trying not to dig his thumbs into her waist too hard but unwilling to let her move from the perfect position he had her in. “Is that your wand?” she inquired. Her lips were pursed as she held in more laughter. “Or are you just pleased to see me?” 

The filter that usually stopped Sebastian from speaking everything on his mind had left him quite alone for the evening. “I’m always pleased to see you. I swear, everything you do gets me so hard,” he said unabashedly. Based on the furious reddening of her cheeks, it seemed she could dish it out but not take it. 

She freed herself from his hands and dropped to her knees again, in front of his spread legs, but this time, there was no pretense of comforting him. Sharp fingernails ran up his thighs while she looked at him from beneath her lashes and inquired, “My turn now?” Sebastian wondered if he’d accidentally ingested a few drops of felix felicis at some point. 

“If you’d like,” he replied, smarmy and satisfied. He leaned back against the stacked crates behind him and spread his legs wider, watching her eye him as if she’d never seen anything better. When she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him free of them and his underwear, his breath caught for a minute. He hoped it wasn’t disappointing to her.

“God in heaven. How am I meant to take this?” So not disappointed, then. The look on her face was closer to hunger, and Sebastian felt precum leaking out of his throbbing length when she wrapped her soft hands around it and gave a few experimental tugs. “I’ve never done this before,” she admitted, though without embarrassment. “Never knew a man who deserved it.”

“I’ve never had it done,” Sebastian said, “but what you’re doing there feels fucking fantastic.” He sighed in bliss as she stroked him faster. “So, what did I do to be the first one deserving of your beautiful mouth?” he asked, intending to sound very suave but instead eeking out the question with a slight choke. Her thumb swiped over the tip of his cock and he whined. 

She hmphed, concentrating hard. “You mean besides torturing me for a month because you’re too stubborn to tell a girl you fancy her?” He had to give her a sheepish smirk, which she rolled her eyes at. 

When she sank her mouth down around him and he felt the warmth envelope his length, Sebastian mewled. Head thrown back and his fingers clenching against her scalp, he groaned and sighed as she worked her tongue and lips against him. “Sh-shit, wow,” he whined. His composure left him completely. She felt indescribable, but it frustrated him to not be able to form words and tell her. His stomach contorted and flexed, and he stretched his long legs out, letting her steady the free hand that wasn’t jerking him on his thigh.

She pulled off his cock with a pop and looked up at him. “You’re like velvet,” she said, eyes wide, starving. Sebastian took her face in his hand and selfishly prayed that when he died, he’d still be able to take her with him, wherever he ended up. Now that he had her, there wasn’t anything living or dead that he would let separate them.

Such maudlin fantasies manifested themself in the room in the form of Sebastian muttering dumbly, “Sit on it, fuck, please, I need to feel you.” 

“I’m not done here.” She dipped her neck again and licked up the length of him, and the sight and sensation almost broke his resolve, but he managed to pull her off of him by her hair, which made her squawk indignantly. But when he tugged her into his lap and kissed her again, their combined tastes mingling between them on their lips and tongues, her protestations died down.

She dug her fingers into his shirt, then realized he was still wearing a shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, but as usual, took matters into her own hands and began unbuttoning it, pausing after each button to press kisses to the patches of skin that were revealed when she did so. Her lips left burns behind. When the shirt was finally open, she pulled it off him. 

“My turn now?” he asked, cocking his head to one side and grinning. 

Her uniform and his cast aside on the floor, the two looked at each other for a long while, although the feeling of their cores pressing, bare, together, had them softly panting and grinding. Sebastian laid his forehead against hers. 

“Is…is this real? I mean, is it?” he breathed. He didn’t know what he meant but she did, and she nodded, her lips pressed like she was trying to stop herself from saying something. 

“I’m not letting you fly away that easily.” She kissed up his neck while he smiled. 

“Your little birdie.”

“Yes,” she gasped when his hands landed on her ass and he rolled her hips over his still painfully hard dick. Her clit brushed against the base of it and they both cried out. Sebastian had never felt anything so good, so right.

Her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, then paused. She frowned.

“What?”

“God, Seb…when was the last time you had your hair cut?” His smile was almost predatory. One month and thirteen days.

“Hmm. I guess it has been awhile. No good?” he asked, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He could feel her fingers twirling the locks at the base of his neck, and she unconsciously ground against him even harder. 

“Very good,” she groaned and threw herself forward so their chests were flush and they were kissing so deep that they had to share air. “You look fucking sinful. Whenever you come back to school with it like that I…” She trailed off, suddenly bashful, as if she wasn’t naked in his arms.

Sebastian thought he might be glowing. “I’ll never cut it again, darling,” he swore. “Just for you.”

The feast in the Great Hall, his nerves about graduation, the murky uncertainty that faced him after Hogwarts, all of it was gone as he helped her lift her hips and legs enough to line up his cock with her entrance. She sank down onto him and they cried out together, her slapping at his chest as she tried to relax around the thickness and him biting down on the inside of his mouth so hard it drew blood as he tried not to come then and there. Shivering, she wiggled her hips side to side while she became acclimated to his size. “Shitshitshit.” Sebastian gritted his teeth. “You’re really tight, wow. You feel…you feel so g-good.”

Her eyes flew to his, and he struggled further to not burst when he saw how flushed and hot she was. She was still steadying herself with a hand pressed against his chest. “S-sorry,” she said, “You’re–you better not fucking gloat about this, Sallow, but you’re the biggest…ugh.” She dropped her head to his shoulder in embarrassment, but Sebastian was beaming. Was he, now? His ego puffed up at the thought. It really didn’t need to hear that. 

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.” “Why don’t I believe you?”

He showed her his canines. His other half, his better half. She knew him too well. “Because how could I possibly? Look at you, you’re a goddamn vision.” She really did look like a goddess on top of him, taking him so well and clutching him like she never wanted to be torn away from him. Then, she squirmed, and his cock somehow hardened further inside her, until the pain and pleasure of it was almost blinding him. “Fuck, you’re warming my cock so well, darling. Can I move?” 

A whimper of assent and a hurried nod almost set him on his course, but he decided in that moment that there was one more thing requiring attention before he could really take her like he wanted to. He placed both hands on either side of her face and kissed her, slower and softer and sweeter than any yet, and said, “I love you.”

He expected a gasp, a cry of disgust, a puzzled look, something from her that would be an appropriate response to his wholly inappropriate confession, but all she said was, “I love you too, Seb.” 

“Alright,” came the dopey response. She giggled and adopted a deep monotone to make fun of him.

“Alright.” They kissed again, and it felt like everything that had been upside down in Sebastian’s mind turned right side up. “I love you so much, my little birdie. I love your curiosity and your chirping. Promise you’ll let me stay with you until–”

“You think I’ll ever let you leave?” He cut her off, incredulous. “My home is ours now. And what’s the rush to sell?” A grin spread across her face as she watched one take over his. “Quite like the idea of a little privacy for the next few months.” He snapped his hips up, just once, and a shriek tore out of her throat. Her cunt was so slick and hot, he had to bite the wound he’d opened in his mouth again to not shout. “Ominis is far too light of a sleeper for how often I plan on making you scream my name.” 

She began chasing his thrusts in earnest, picking up their pace and riding him until her legs were shaking. He hit her limit with every movement, and his abdomen flexed with the effort of fucking up into her the way he was. Their mingled panting and the slap of her ass against his lap were the only sounds filling the storage room, their own private concert for an audience of each other. When her tired legs couldn’t hold her anymore, she begged him, “Harder!” and Sebastian obliged happily by wrapping one arm around her waist and tilting her backwards so he could brace his free hand against the crate beneath him and rail her. A silencing charm would not have been amiss, he vaguely thought, as she cried through her enthusiasm for him. “Fuck, Seb, Seb!” she sobbed. “Please, just please!”

She hadn’t fallen in love with him because he never teased her, he reasoned, so he couldn’t resist a cheeky, “Please what?”, although his own climax was so close that it came out in a pathetic little huff. She was an angel above him, her hair framing her face like a halo and her back arched right where her wings would be. His desire to make her come first was the only thing stopping him from spilling into her. The question plaguing his mind for years finally answered, he was pleased. “So, you do cry when you come. I fucked myself a thousand times thinking about how perfect it must sound.” 

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she slammed her hips down on his cock one last time and he gave three tiny thrusts inside her. His fingers flew to her clit and rubbed it through the searing orgasm washing through her, her cunt spasming around him and pulling him up to the peak as well. She wept and he breathed, "Little birdie fucking loves you,” and they both came together, him pumping his seed into her with labored pants and her greedily taking it in. 

She huffed, “I want all of it,” and he moaned, hoarse and scratching. Cum was leaking out of her as he slowed down, his arm still supporting her as she slumped against him. Their combined mess covered their legs, and the sticky sight almost had Sebastian hardening inside her once more. 

For several minutes, neither said anything. The chatter from the Great Hall had died down significantly. They laid together on the crate and played idly with each other, Sebastian’s fingers kneading the flesh below her ass and hers drawing light shapes over his chest. The air was heavy. It felt as though someone ought to say, “What now?” but neither of them wanted to. It didn’t matter, anyway. “What now?” was never going to be a concern of Sebastian’s again. The drive to ask questions, to wonder, to worry. It was all gone. Settled and soothed by something that curled itself around his heart and laid there, comfortably heavy.

“Come to bed,” he murmured, his eyes drifting open and shut, as if they were playing house in Feldcroft already, and not under strict instructions for one more night to sleep in separate dormitories. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sure the other boys would love that.”

“They don’t hear anything.” Sebastian’s orgasmic haze made everything swirl and swim. He yawned. “Even when you kicked me out of that dream.” His fingertips ghosted over her bare back, toying with the ends of her hair as she lay curled into him. He didn’t realize his mistake until she said, dangerous and low,

“Even when I what?”

series masterlist

blog masterlist

[peonypyxels]

maggie & rei🌟

[madeline-kahn]

Music in Film: Tron: Legacy (2010) dir. Joseph Kosinski original music by Daft Punk happy birthday @rogerdeakinsdp!

[maydela]

The kids are growing so quickly. March is now a teen, Maximillian is a child, and Anjelo is an elder. Cassandra has been working on a new song for violin.

February is about to become an Adult, so the family went to stay at a cabin in Granite Falls. As you can see, February is already ready to go home.

[choccy-milky]

seb wants to be pet, too 😤💕 ((TYSM to @angel-fr0m-venus for asking how seb would react to clora petting all the cats around the school/hogsmeade BAHAHA. like a neglected puppy, thats how🐶))

[junipernight]

She wrested the tray out of Guaba’s hands, turned around, and closed the door with her back. Kavik had collected himself by then. “Smells good,” he said. “Did she buy it?” Gossip was universal, but for some reason servants were stuck with the bad reputation for it. “Between the people who saw us in the street and good Mistress Guaba, you have a solid cover.” The more a story embarrassed a powerful person, the truer it appeared. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

The Legacy of Yangchen, by F.C. Yee

[anto-pops]

Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you. 

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian

Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)

There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence. 

You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears. 

A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you. 

Possessive. 

His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so. 

He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it. 

In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.

A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor. 

After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight. 

You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare. 

“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”

“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”

Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one. 

Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.” 

Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.” 

It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.” 

The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey. 

Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness. 

You were his, and he was yours. 

Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you. 

“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.” 

Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood. 

Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–” 

His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him. 

Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!” 

With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened. 

“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?” 

The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear. 

More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life. 

When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust. 

All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it. 

Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it. 

“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.” 

You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor. 

“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–” 

The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.” 

The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!” 

“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.” 

“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–” 

Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat. 

“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”

There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him. 

A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that. 

“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.” 

One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time. 

Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.

The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you. 

When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation. 

Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?

[ammnd]

I miss BAF legacy