#sebastian sallow x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jackalope-patronus · 2 months ago

Text

summary :: very very soft smut of virgin Sebastian and MC reader. With plot! With feelings!

warning :: seventh year. Very soft, virgin Sebastian and reader, touching over clothes, dry humping, oral f receiving, raw, references to the angst that happened in the game, purity culture (yes, it's the 1890s), lots of love and fluffy stuff. Also there's a spider bite. Possible mistakes, I wasn’t able to check over the entire thing.

note :: I’m forever a hater of rough smut, ‘you like that, you dirty slut?’ uhm no, why are you calling me names!!

“Sebastian, down here.”

“Found something?”

“There’s a cave connected to her home.”

Isidora Morganach's home, or at least one of her homes. You weren't quite sure. It had plenty of notes and discoveries on her adventures travelling after graduating from Hogwarts, some keepsakes from other countries, and plenty of chests already emptied out. The home was ancient and very worse for wear, the roof had long since cave in, allowing the rain from above to patter against both you and Sebastian. You had spotted a deep cavern within the corner of her living-room. Big enough to fit the both of you.

"After you," said Sebastian, gesturing to the dark, black entrance.

You would've retorted, if you hadn't felt so seriously. It had been two years since you'd dealt with anything related to Isadora and the sudden discovery that one of her homes was merely a broomstick flight away from Hogwarts felt troubling to your intuition.

Sebastian could practically see the tension in your body when you first told him.

"I heard rumours of a home that could've belonged to Isadora nearby the castle."

“Isadora?” He choked on the food he’d served himself.

"Yes. I'm going to go and search it after dinner." Something troubling swirled in your eyes and Sebastian jumped to distract you from it.

"I'll come with you." He said.

"This might be something I'll have to do on my own, Sebastian." You stated. If there was a trial or something related to ancient magic, he wouldn't be able to do anything. Professor Fig never could. You'd be better off alone.

"You won't even take me as a chaperone?" Sebastian asked, grinning at you.

It was that grin that had him coming with you to the half rubble household, in the pouring rain, at the dead of night.

Your search was cut short when the moment you reached the end of the slope into the cave, a six legged beast jumped you. You recognised it as a hatchling, small for its kind but big enough to knock you off your feet. You attempted to reach for your wand but the large pincers found your arm, the hollow fangs sinking into your tissue. A sharp wail escaped you as the venom soaked into your muscle.

"Incendio!" The spider was thrown off of you with a quick ball of flame and Sebastian replaced it, kneeling at your side and pulling you up.

"It got me." You hissed, revealing your torn up sleeve.

He cursed, then took your wrist in his large hand and pushed back the fabric of your sleeve, bringing your numbing arm to his mouth. He latched on before you could quite make sense of his actions, he sucked twice against your raw skin and then spat to the floor next to him. Again, he sucked on the bite then spat out what you hoped was most of the venom, and what looked to be some of your blood, and perhaps some rainwater.

You couldn’t be sure the flush falling over your face was from the venom or not, but the dizziness that followed suggested the first.

Through the haze of the sickening poison flooding your system and the feverish puffs of air you let out, you could hone in on Sebastian’s final part from your irritated skin. A thin, watery string of spit connected him to your arm before it broke and he turned to gauge the effects of the venom on your face.

“Wiggenweld?” You had some faint idea he had said something else, but you weren’t sure.

“My pocket.” You huffed, eye-line peering up at the dark, rocky ceiling dripping rain.

You recalled another flush passing over you, whilst desperate hands pat over your sides, legs and chest. Soon enough, the hands found what they were looking for. After that, a vile pressed to your lips and you felt yourself return to your pained body. Your legs must’ve given out, because Sebastian held you against himself, one hand cupped around your jaw.

“I’m alright.” You croaked, his hold loosening and giving you space. Your stiff legs ached at your weight and you patted your pockets for another wiggenweld potion, but came up empty. You let out a tired groan.

“Let’s head back.” He said.

"But we've yet to look everywhere." You gazed around the dark and rocky cave, slithers of other spiders echoing through the darkness.

"The house won't be going anywhere, we can come back when you're well again."

Still, you shook your head. “It’s the middle of the night, we’ll surely be caught by some prefect if I’m in this state.”

“It’s worth it, we’ve got to get you another potion and get you right.”

So reluctantly, you let Sebastian help you out of the cave and onto your broom, keeping a weary eye on you until you snuck back into the castle.

Sebastian muttered something about peeves when you entered, your arm around his shoulder and a light hand on your side, keeping you steady as though he was a friend helping you home after a night of drinking. You needed a brewing stand to rid you of this horrid, sickening ache and the fuzziness behind your eyes.

"What in merlin's name..." A nearby wall began to shift, swirls of a door began to form and you had never been so relieved to see the entrance to the room of requirement form for you. It felt like a dear friend coming to your aid.

"Inside, come on." You ushered, pulling Sebastian along. He held you closer, mumbling 'careful.' at your quickness.

Sebastian sat you down carefully on the closest thing he could, which happened to be a plush settee that you couldn't remember placing when you were last here. Perhaps the room had conjured it up just for you.

"My brewing stand, it should be over there." You blurted.

"You've really decked this place out." He muttered and behind you, you could hear the sizzling of a potion brewing. Sebastian had followed you into the room once or twice before, but not enough to be acquainted to it like you were. An uncomfortable minute passed before Sebastian handed you the potion which spread relief through your body once you drunk it.

He watched your eyes keenly for any haze or sickly glossiness. "Another?" He asked.

"No I'm alright." You nodded. He sighed thankfully and you smiled at his relief. “I’ve never known you to be the doting type, Sebastian.” You uttered contently, placing down the empty vile.

“Well, you’ve never needed doting.” He rounded the large settee and sat beside you.

"I never thought you had it in you to be so… gentle."

The word stunned Sebastian, but only for a moment. "Me? Not gentle? How could you ever come to think so low of me?" He jested, an eyebrow raised your way.

"Apologies, I don't know what could've convinced me otherwise." A lot lurked behind your retort, and although you could still see a grin on his face, Sebastian's shoulders deflated. "I'm only joking." You quickly added. "You've always had a soft side, I've been especially reaping the benefits of it in our recent time spent together."

"Well, I'd ought to start treating you well some time in our friendship." He continued, a playfulness added to his somewhat serious statement.

You hummed, although awkwardly. After fifth year, Sebastian had somewhat clung to you. Soloman was dead, Anne had left and his relationship with Ominis had never been so broken. All his time, his loyalty, his effort and his love was directed to you because, plainly, you were the only one who stuck around. You were the only one he'd give it all to, whether you were completely aware of it or not.

So when the two of you tipped around his less than stellar actions towards you, you could see the guilt wrack him. See his regret. Inwardly, Sebastian wished to scrub the memories of his slights against you from your brain. He wasn't that boy anymore. He wasn't so obsessed with finding a cure for Anne, driven by his one-track mind. No, now you had become his obsession. His motivations now revolved around you and he pursued you just as relentlessly as he pursued that cure for Anne, maybe even more so. Perhaps he is the same boy from two years ago.

You glanced at him, his eyes downcast to the marble floor. "I know you always cared for me. Just... Sometimes you had a funny way of showing it." You played with the hem of your skirt, rubbing the fabric between your index and forefinger. "You're a true friend Sebastian, don't doubt that."

"You're one to talk." He suddenly grinned, arm stretching out on the camel back of the sofa, close enough anyone else would consider Sebastian had his arm around you.

"Am I?" You smiled, less wary.

"The entire cohort is deeply in love with you. Perhaps some of the teachers too. I'm sure Professor Wesley would give just about anything to adopt you, and I've never seen Sharp so kind to someone. Truely, it's terrifying."

You shook your head, laughing. "Oh stop, there are plenty who don't like me. What about Imelda?"

"Don't be daft, she'd drop just about anything for you I'm sure." He hummed, smiling at the idea (although it made his affection towards you feel slightly less significant. Still, you were here with him, not Imelda or any other adoring fan you had. That must've counted for something). "You might consider me a charmer, but you're like an Amortentia potion given life."

"Compliments like these are precisely why I enjoy spending time with you Sebastian." You said. Sebastian chuckled lowly.

"Cheeky." He commented.

"So then, can I consider you deeply in love with me too? You did say everyone in our cohort." Daring, but you enjoyed the rush of flirting with Sebastian whenever the opportunity arose.

"Imelda, the teachers, even Ominis and yes, me."

The space between you somehow lessened, the teasing drawing your faces together. In a moment of weakness, yours eyes darted to his smiling lips. He’d caught the glance, igniting a wild tinkle in his eyes. He knew where your thoughts lie and you could see it in the way he looked at you. He took your cheek in his hand and you retracted into nervousness, opening your mouth to say something before Sebastian leaned in to pressed a kiss to your lips.

It felt curt at first, because Sebastian broke away too soon, perhaps because he realised to gravity of his action. But you trailed after him, following his lips and giving him the desire to kiss you again. So he did.

This time, with the assurance of you kissing him back, passion bloomed.

He rested an eager hand on your side, his other still holding your face. His fingers threaded through your hair as his lips pushed into you, with longing and need. It wasn’t messy, nor sloppy, just long moments of intimacy between quick breaths.

After a quick separation, Sebastian dove into you again, furthering his weight into you until you relented and laid back against the sofa, pulling him down with you whilst you kissed.

You utterly lost yourself in the swirls of emotions, drowning in the desire to just be with him, and feel him. It felt hot, light, but above all it felt natural.

Both hands now cupped your sides, pressing you into the pillows. His mouth moved to your cheek, then jaw and you attempted to breath out and slow your racing pulse but the sound that left you was much more vocal than you wanted it to be.

Sebastian stopped and you quickly sobered from the passion. He raised himself off of you, and you jolted up.

He wiped a hand over his mouth. “This is… compromising.” He muttered whilst you were being brought back to the reality of what you were doing.

Kissing Sebastian— kissing anyone!—Alone in a room together, with wandering hands and hot bodies. It was completely and utterly shameful. It wasn’t as though you were innocent children who could get away with linking arms or coupled rendezvous, the two of you were about to graduate and enter ‘proper society’ and however forward thinking the magical word was compared to the muggle word, hooking up with your dearest friend with no ring was still considered dishonourable.

“It is.” You nodded, wide eyed. Would you still be able to wear a white wedding dress after this? Was it allowed? What even was ‘being unclean’? Did making out count? The dizzying feeling returned. All you wanted to do was rewind time and stop yourself from ever making a peep so that Sebastian would’ve continued his journey down your body.

And clearly, Sebastian didn’t want his exploration to end either because his hands lingered around your uniform vest.

“Are you hot?” He asked, eyes dark and utterly taken by you.

“A little, yes.” You nodded, keenly watching his hands encompass the first button.

"May I?"

"Yes." You sighed shakily.

He was slow to thread the black buttons through their slits, opening your chest up to the cool air inside the room of requirement. It seemed the rain had also dampened the fabric underneath the vest, clinging it to your skin. The sight elicited a rough exhale from Sebastian whose reflex was to avert his gaze. He slid the vest off of you and rested his hands at your torso.

"Are you alright?" You asked in hopes to catch his eyes.

"Yes. I'm more than alright, actually." You would laugh if the comment hadn't made goosebumps rise on your skin. He finally returned to face you. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.” You replied, with an embarrassing eagerness.

He returned from where he left you, kissing your jaw and then ear with such lightness it could’ve been a peck from a pixie. You weren’t sure what you expected, but the way he held you cried love and devotion. Treating your skin like porcelain, and your lips like a favourite dessert he needed to savour (lest he never eat it again). You supposed Sebastian would be a fast lover, a man who would take as he desired and give his all.

This was slow, relaxing, gentle and kind. Almost melancholy. As though with every simple kiss he pressed to your lips, he was apologising.

However you were done with apologies from Sebastian. You wanted his love without guilt.

So you took his face in your hands and kept him locked to your lips for a rhythmic kiss which had his hands clenching and his head feeling light from the rush of blood south. Now you could feel him adjusted to you, taking your lead.

Sebastian decided, when you whimpered at the sensation of his tongue sliding across your lip, that this moment would forever vex him during nights of loneliness.

You weren’t sure when, but his hand had found itself on your inner thigh, below the safeguard of your skirt and squeezing your leg in assurance. His thumb dragged over the dip on your stocking, so close to where you longed most.

As your tongue met his in a long swipe, he squeezed you again but this time the squeeze portrayed a promise, that he was going to touch you and draw pleasure from you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the butterflies became too much to bear.

“Sebastian— I’m, I’m worried.” You gasped, breathing out a shaken breath.

His hands were away from you, almost in an instant and most unfortunately so was his mouth. “Then we should stop.”

“But I—” You couldn’t allow yourself to truely express you wanted more, wanted to continue and be enveloped by him. But he knew, like he always did, what you wanted.

So against his better judgment, Sebastian mumbled a quiet “Sorry.” To your previously untouched maidenhood, then found your body with his lips again.

He needed this. He loved you too much to stop.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” You asked meekly, as he kissed and sucked at the skin that peaked from your collar.

“I can’t say I’m experienced, but I know what I want to do.”

“What’s that?” You dared to inquire.

“Show you how dear you are to me.”

You whispered a too-soft 'okay' before laying down on your back, like a cat showing its belly to signify its trust. The gesture and the sight of you sprawled out for him, made Sebastian grab his clenched jaw and hide the red settling under his freckles.

You could see a reservation form— or perhaps it was an anxiousness to please swirling in his eyes. You couldn’t tell, but he watched you intensely as his hand traveled down, past your beating chest, over the knobs of your ribs until he dived under your skirt and made his stop at where you burned for him.

His thumb glided over your core and the space between you two felt as though you were on a stage and Sebastian was the only audience member. You had gasped and excitement flickered in his dark eyes. Again, he dragged his thumb over you but with more weight and your previous gasp turned into a whimper. You held onto him, pulling him down into you to avoid his excited stare. His body blanketed you, his scent enveloping you along with the masculine weight of him.

You could feel his hand shift, dulled by the fabric of your stockings then the force of his palm rub against your clothed bundle of nerves. Your legs attempted to close at the sensation, but Sebastian's body kept them open to him. Your chest pounded uncomfortably, so fast and so heavy with the weight of your first-time arousal.

His lips locked to your neck again, his free hand pulling at your tie and unbuttoning the first button on your blouse. Now he kissed a lower, new, more sensitive territory. He moved to the second button and you thought it was impossible for your chest to thud any faster until his wet lips reached a particular sweet spot between your shoulder and neck whilst his other hand worked your sex.

“My heart.” You whimpered, tugging at his robe. His hand halted, resting around your thigh. The sigh he exhaled lingered on the skin of your neck before he leaned to press his ear against your chest.

He listened for seconds, long enough for your fingers to find their way to his hair. You hadn’t realised he held stiffness until his body relaxed into you at the tender rake of your nails through his soft brown locks.

“I’m sorry, I can’t control my nerves.” You said, catching your breath and willing your anxious heart to slow.

“Don’t be.” He countered, lifting his head from your thudding chest. “I’m affected by all this, too.” He took your hand and pressed it into his chest. You quickly felt the thick beats of his pulse, in a rhythm that easily matched your own.

He returned to lay over you, between your legs, with his head beside your own. You clung to his body that draped over you like a blanket along with his wet, wood smell that you'd only ever caught brief whiffs of before this. You felt guilty, leaving all the pleasing to him, especially since he'd been so kind to your hesitations. "I'm sorry. I'm not doing much, am I?"

"Is sorry your favourite word, love?" He asked, his warm hand caressing your cheek. "You deserve someone doing something to please you for once. Besides, your little sounds are doing enough for me as it is."

You pushed a hand to his face, covering the grin that turned you a deep plum shade. He chuckled and kissed your palm. "And what of you, Sebastian?" The kisses began to lead up your arm but you stopped him. "Sebastian."

"Your selflessness never retires, does it?"

You ignored him, propping yourself up to loosen his tie in a simple show that now, it was his turn. You did so smoothly and so gently that it made Sebastian's jaw tighten. You tossed it to the pile where your vest lay, then moved to his robes, sliding them off him. His expression seemed hard, annoyed almost but you continued. He took your wrist only when your fingers edged to undo his third button.

"Don't do this for me." He muttered, clearly thousands of thoughts buffering his mind, but that horrid guilt resurfaced on his face.

"For you?" You somewhat gaped. He must truly think of you as a saint (a push-over, but a saint) to believe you so innocent in your motives. "Not for you. With you, Sebastian." The words were enough to ease his hold on your wrist, so you continued.

Just as Sebastian, you had little to no experience on any sexual matters. You were hardly familiar with your own body, let alone a male's. So ever the improviser, you lifted yourself over him and sat gently, feeling the poke of his arousal against you. You shivered, and had to look away from him for a brief moment.

His hands snapped to your hips, and he looked at you with some kind of warning in his eyes. Tread carefully. The look said.

With Sebastian below you, you finally got a clean look at him; red lips, flushed face, rustled hair. You'd never seen him in such a state. It allowed you to understand why he enjoyed watching you whilst touching your most sensitive area.

With your hands on his chest for balance, you gently swayed your hips against him. His fingers curled around you, his knuckles blanching, and he let out a grunted curse that melted your insides to molten.

Again you moved against him, finding your own pleasure in the movement, prompting you to do it again. Sebastian was unravelling beneath you, eyes creased shut with his head thrown back and mouth letting out choked moans.

You began to notice Sebastian's hips joining you, rolling up with a feverish need. You dipped down to him, deciding the space was too much. His arms envelop you in a strong hug, tightening when you began to leave kisses across his skin.

“Does it feel good?” You asked insecurely whilst already knowing the answer.

“Hng— yes.” He nodded desperately.

The following exchange between you two was nothing more than writhing bodies, quiet moans and shallow breaths.

At some point, appearing fed up with your pace and control, Sebastian had shifted you off him and to his side, where he then mounted you. Finding his rightful place between your legs and returning his core to yours, grinding against you in a manor that reminded you what was to come once the layers between you were gone.

It made your insides plea for him, his hand. Anything.

So you took his face, and guided it back to your lips. It was messier now, not fast or rough, just messy as his mind strayed between his deep rolls against you and the way your tongue met his bottom lip.

But he stoped, retracting his hips but not yet his mouth. You broke from him first.

"Sebastion." His name was a plea, a whine against loosing the sensation of him finding friction against you.

"If we continue like this, I... I won't last. You should find your release before it's over."

You wondered how Sebastian might've known you were even capable of climax, then consider what other kinds of books were available in the restricted section of the library he might've come across. The thought didn't linger in your mind for too long, because he had sat up and had begun removing your stockings.

"Sebastian..."

The familiar sound of your nervous unease halted him.

"Just don't stare." You asked, looking away from the sight of him undressing you.

"Of course." It was a shotty promise, but you allowed him to take off your puffy drawers and settle over you again. He kissed your lips briefly, then your cheek, jaw, neck, collarbone and the plush of your breast that peaked from your halfway unbuttoned blouse.

You gazed up at the ceiling you'd designed two years ago, finding comfort in its familiarity. You wondered briefly that if you had told your younger self that Sebastian Sallow would one day see you half undressed, flushed with lust and be kissing his way down your ribs, abdomen and stomach until he reached your sex, what she might say. You had some faint idea, younger you would've responded with "Sounds about right."

The kiss he pressed against your knee was unhurried and deliberate, even more-so was the one he pressed to your inner thigh. When his mouth finally found you it drew a sharp intake of breath from your chest, suspended in the heavy quiet of the room.

Your hands, awkward and alone, grabbed at your skirt and shirt, clenching the fabric until your knuckles went white. One of them instinctually reached for his hair when his hot, wet tongue slowly swiped you for the first time. Another gasp joined the symphony of echoed silence, aside for the occasional rustle of clothes.

His tongue explored you carefully and too light but with each vocal exhale or quick tug at his hair the experimental licks became sure as he uncovered what made you react the most.

You could feel a simple quake in his hands as they held your thighs open and your trembling body steady. You reached to the fingers that created craters in your flesh, brushing across them in a plea for him to hold your hand. And he did.

You had never imaged it could feel like it did, so warm, so encompassing, so vulnerable yet so rewarding. It was all utterly overwhelming. You couldn't think of anything else other than the sensations. His wet tongue sliding across your nerves, the softness of his chestnut brown hair, the puffs of his hot exhales against your skin and the loving hold of his hand.

The builds of pleasure had begun to undeniably form, and the incoming reality that Sebastian would made you climax quickly sent a storm of butterflies within your stomach.

"I think I'm close." You uttered.

Sebastian's eyes fluttered at your heavenly admission, but he didn't allow the swirling of pride in his chest to sway him from your pleasure. His tongue and mouth moved with such deliberate care, that you whimpered to consider how much he must've loved you, to want care for you this way. No, Sebastian was not a fast lover by any means.

The building peaked, until it snapped and you unravelled. Sebastian had known it by the shiver that ripped through your body and the way your fingers tightened almost painfully around his hair. All that, and the moan you let out was the loudest you'd made yet.

You felt the warm cavern of his mouth seperate from you however you were well past the point of reaction as you sobbed and gasped for oxygen to feed your rapturing heart.

Sebastian's eye's glazed over your now glistening skin "You finished." He stated, almost asking in such bewilderment. You didn't reply, still catching your breath. He picked you up from your weak lay on the sofa and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly.

You wondered when he kissed you, if that sweet tang on his tongue was the taste of you.

The intimacy lingered, guiding you into a heat you didn't expect so soon after your peak. Your hand reached the rim of his trousers, index finger curling around his belt and ever so lightly tugging at it.

Sebastian seemed to hesitate, separating from your lips and gazing at you. “We can stop here. There's no rush—” he began, his voice low and warning, but you silenced him with a soft shake of your head.

“I don't want to stop,” you whispered, the words shaky but certain. The way his breath caught at your words sent warmth bloating your chest.

His hug around you faded as he fumbled with the button of his trousers, his hands trembling slightly as his usual confidence slipped for a vulnerable kind of focus.

Your gaze rose at the ceiling instinctively, to avoid an image so lewd your heart might explode.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours again. The kiss was softer now, as if trying to calm both of your nerves. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not,” you lied, the tight weakness in your throat betraying you.

Sebastian smiled, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “I think you are,” he countered, “but that’s alright. This is... I’m nervous too.”

“You don’t seem it,” you admitted, and he let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m good at pretending,” he confessed, his tone light but honest. He kissed you again, slower this time, and the warmth of his lips helped steady you.

As he positioned himself, his movements slowed, almost hesitant. His brow furrowed slightly as though searching for the right way to proceed. “If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, you’ll tell me?”

You nodded.

When he began to push forward, he braced himself with a groan you only recognised Sebastian let out when he'd been in pain, though this was something else entirely. The exhale that followed seemed to have winded him. It was as though sliding into you was like sliding into some exquisite oil.

Despite what you might've expected, no pain flooded your body. There was an uneasy pressure, but no incredible discomfort. As his size slid across your nerves you couldn't help the sharp intake of air through your teeth

Sebastian froze immediately. "Too much?" He asked.

"No," you managed, although sounding as if you were holding back a sob, "It's just.. new." His shoulders sagged with relief.

You shifted beneath him, angling your hips instinctively, and the change made him groan, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Gods, you feel… perfect,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your skin.

He halted a slow jut into you, experimenting with each gentle motion, balancing his desire with your comfortability. That uneasy tightness had lifted almost completely as he massaged your insides, spreading a melting warmth that eased any tension in your mind.

His name fell from your lips and it shattered what composure he had left. "Does it feel better now?" Although the question sounded worried for you, Sebastian wanted more, to go further and harder and needed the permission from your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasp, "Its— ah— Sebastian it's so much better."

Now he had a newfound confidence and his movements grew surer but still achingly gentle.

It was all becoming smoother, more instinctive, and you found yourself matching him, your hips rising to meet his. He groaned at this. The sensation of him filling you, of your bodies moving in perfect sync, was intoxicating. You could feel his hands sliding up your sides, his touch gentle yet tight as he held you close.

The feel of him gliding inside you, slowly and shallowly pleasing you send spark dancing underneath your skin and another tension, similar to the one you felt with Sebastian's mouth around your sex, although not the same, began to build. “Sebastian,” you gasped, your voice laced with urgency. “I—”

“Just a little more,” he coaxed, remaining loyal to the kind rhythm of his thrusts. “I can feel it, too.”

You held yourself together for only a moment longer, unravelling too soon and too fast. This one was intense, flooding your body and contracting your muscles, even the ones that surrounded Sebastian. It had pushed him over the edge, too.

A warmth flooded you and the hands clutching his back became sharp nails digging into his shirt and skin. You didn't forget the way he moaned at the rake. Both of you shuddered, Sebastian at finding his release inside you and you feeling it merge with the aftershock of your own climax.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breaths mingling in the stillness, the world outside forgotten. Sebastian lowered his forehead to yours and collapsed breathless at your side.

You could've drifted off into a deep slumber, you might've for a single moment, if Sebastian hadn't removed his blanket of warmth by lifting himself from the sofa. He took his robe off the pile of strewn bits of clothing, and draped it over you.

Through tiredly lidded eyes, you heard the rustle of clothing as he buttoned up the loose pieces hanging off him.

"Sebastian?" You weren't done basking in the aftercare yet.

"I'm going to brew the potion."

"Potion?"

"A... preventative."

You sat up. "Preventative?"

Although he'd been deep inside you just a moment ago, he attempted to avoid crudeness. "To, you know, stop you from being.. with child."

You weren't sure if you should laugh, or freak out, so an odd mix between the two emotions emitted from you. "Sebastian how do you know so much about all this?"

"Why? Did my skills exceeded your expectations that much?"

"Please, be serious," you begged.

"Well, you know how much I like to read." He seemed to shy from the confession. "After a while, one gets curious about certain things and... as for the potion, I found it in a book about married couples. Said it was 'to only be used to prevent further conception after having too many children' although I think we can bend the rules for this occasion."

"Children? Oh merlin, what have we done." The afterglow had faded too soon and you were left with the cries of a culture that told you sex before marriage was unacceptable. "I'm going to have to wear a black wedding dress..." You despaired.

Sebastian only laughed.

"Don't laugh! I'll have to lie to my future husband, and—"

"I'll be marrying you," he stated, as though you were slow for not already knowing this.

"What?"

"Love, don't think for a moment I'd let you share yourself with me like this and not marry you," any words you could've hoped to say were buried deep in your pit of a gut, "besides, I've always thought you looked quite pretty in black."

You weakly laughed, the other option being to cry from overwhelm of it all.

"I'll tell you a secret though—we're quite late to the party."

"What do you mean?"

"Weasley, Prewett and Plummly."

"You're joking." You gaped, "with who?"

"None of them will tell. Suppose they might be lying, though I'm sure I did spot Weasley snogging a Hufflepuff once. Might've been her."

"Huh." You supposed that if you had to have guessed, Garreth Weasley would've been the first name you called.

"Pretty sure word got out about it too, that's why he's been in detention for so long. The teachers can't prove it happened, but they can still punish him for it."

So that's why you hadn't seen Garreth as often anymore. With his aunt as a teacher, she'd surely be on his tail about anything scandalous. Then stress twanged your heart.

"What if someone finds out about us, about tonight?"

"They won't."

"What if they do?"

His mouth quirked into a half-smile, equal parts reassuring and mischievous. “We’d get scolded, thrown in detention, and likely forced to marry sooner than we’d like. Expulsion would be threatened, but I reckon most of the professors have enjoyed watching our so-called ‘budding romance.’ I’d wager they’d let it slide.”

"Professor Wesley would have you strung up by your ears for taking me to bed," you muttered, finding humour in the image, but also horror in the truth of it. "Oh Merlin she'd be so disappointed in me..."

"You're right," he muttered with an exaggerated sigh, "if it was Ominis who'd taken you, she'd be so much happier."

You couldn't help the laugh that left you, or how it quickly dissolved into a groan. "Sebastian please, I— what if this was a mistake?"

His amusement faded and he softened. "Think for one moment, with no one else's judgement, did it feel like a mistake?"

"No..."

“You think I’d do this with anyone else?” he continued, his voice softer now. “That I’d risk everything—us—for something fleeting?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you really don’t give me enough credit, do you?”

“It’s not that,” you protested weakly.

“Then what is it?” he pressed, his gaze intent but not unkind.

"You're not just saying all this to make me feel better, are you? To make me think you want me?" The words felt stupid the moment they left your mouth.

Sebastian blinked, stunned into silence for a moment before a laugh—warm and disbelieving—escaped him. “You’re daft if you think I’d ever not want you. Have you met me?”

You swatted at his arm halfheartedly, your cheeks burning. “This is mortifying.”

“Mortifying?” He scoffed, pulling you closer. “The only thing mortifying about this is how much I love kissing you, everywhere. Truely, I won't be able to think about another thing."

"If we get married, I think I'll die of a heart attack."

"Not if, love, when."

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #wizarding world #wizarding world x reader #hogwarts #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x reader #slytherin #slytherin x reader

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5sospenguinqueen · 10 months ago

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Sebastian: Yeah, we're just friends but I would shag you if you asked.

MC: (looking up from her essay) Pardon?

Sebastian: (blushing) What?

Ominis: He said he'd shag you if you asked.

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morelikeravenbore · 4 months ago

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Feigning Indifference

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

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

Rated: Explicit. MDNI. NSFW. 🔞

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

Word count: 1.8k

[MASTERLIST] [WATTPAD]

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

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

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

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

He wants to kiss the frown right off your face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Authority which you completely ignore, like always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're his now. You both know it.

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

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

He wants to fuck the shock right off your face.

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

Because you always give in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wants everyone to know you're his.

The thought makes him fucking — lose — it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x fmc #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy smut #morelikeravenbore writes #beater!sebastian #Quidditch!Sebastian

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slytherinzz · 4 months ago

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Sebastian Sallow:

“Rules? What rules? I consider them more like… guidelines with room for interpretation.”

“I’m not saying this was my best idea… but it is my most entertaining one so far.”

“Oh, come on! A little curse here and there builds character. You’ll thank me later.”

“I’d like to think I’m a perfect mix of charm, intellect, and just a dash of poor decision-making.”

“Listen, if you’re going to get in trouble, at least make it worth the detention. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

Ominis Gaunt

“You can’t see me rolling my eyes, but trust me, it’s happening.”

“Sebastian, if your brilliant plan involves me getting hexed again, I’m officially out.”

“Some families pass down heirlooms. Mine passes down generational trauma. But sure, let’s talk about my upbringing.”

“Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t tell you’re about to do something stupid. Stop it.”

“I don’t ‘hate’ people, Sebastian. I simply find the vast majority of them exhausting.

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zevrra · 7 months ago

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never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

#hogwarts legacy #x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #fluff #fluffy zevrra #angst with a happy ending #one shot #i did not proofread this #i am so sorry #enjoy!!!

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slytherinsprincesss · 1 year ago

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Sebastian: Hey MC, are you busy Saturday around 3?

MC: No? Why?

Sebastian: What about you Ominis? Are you busy Saturday at 3?

Ominis: No Sebastian, I’m not.

Sebastian: Perfect, because I am! You two go ahead to get butterbeer without me. Enjoy your date ;)

MC: did he just-

Ominis: yes, he did just set us up.

**I feel like Sebastian would be a great wingman to Ominis (when he really tries)**

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thatboisus · 8 months ago

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yall ever read a fanfic so majestic it completely altered your entire life

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theealbatross · 7 months ago

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fight the alchemy (s.s)

Plot | After a tumultuous year, Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. And he had just almost reached peace – when his brilliant, painfully observant, carelessly crude genius of a friend, Garreth Weasley, started pointing out unnecessary facts that could rip all that harmony to shreds.

or, Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.

Tags | fluff, sebastian is a thought daughter, low self esteem, seb is a playboy BUT NOT REALLY, horny thots but we keep it pg, insecurity so deep you try to fight cupid, cupid fights back

An Ashwinder’s wand to his neck and Sebastian could honestly and truly say that he was … alright.

Life wasn’t perfect, by any means. His uncle was murdered dead, an estranged twin sister in Paris who refuses to answer his letters, a mistrustful Ominis that breathes on his neck, and a tattered companionship that was barely hanging on by a thread.

But he was okay.

Thankfully, Solomon was still dead, Anne was still alive, and still cranky Ominis is now open to reconciliation. Plus, if all else had fallen, he at least managed to save your cherished friendship thanks to your forgiving nature.

Thus, as thanks to the people who had not yet given up on him, he had sworn to live the rest of his academic life as a meek, unassuming, law-abiding student of Hogwarts.

And he did such a good job at it.

The professors are now impressed at his steadily increasing grades (so much so that the Ravenclaws are now finally seeing him as a threat again) and he even managed to make Imelda’s team as her beater to keep him occupied.

The latter, however, had a grating consequence – he had become popular.

It was thrilling, at first, he went on dates to make up for the years he had lost, kissed the pretty girls because it felt like he should (as one of the few bastards lucky enough to live every raging teenager’s dream), and accepted the slaps on the face politely when they inevitably broke up.

But now he’s just gotten tired and bored of it all.

Ominis says it’s a genius’ folly, to always find a fault in something and then drop it when it doesn’t quite meet his standard of perfect. Leander says he’s just a bastard.

He cups his face with his hand, wincing. Her fucking ring caught on his skin and he can’t be arsed to suffer through the bitterness of a Wiggenweld Potion for a mere scratch.

Garreth doesn’t bother to swallow his bread before saying, “Really, mate? I thought you liked this one?”

“Liked her rack, more likely,” Andrew quipped from his seat on the stone steps of the boathouse.

Sebastian threw his scarf on his face, satisfied at his squawk.

“No talking about my ex-girlfriends,” he warned. It was one of his few rules when it came to his male friends. He may be a bastard but as someone with a sister and a couple of good female friendships, he makes it a point to never become one of those losers who talk badly about women they have a history with. Just so he can have a moral high ground when he beats up anyone who might do it to his friends.

“All right, all right,” Andrew raised his hands in playful surrender, throwing Sebastian’s scarf back to him. “But as your friend, I think it’s about time you stop swapping out girls every time you get bored of them.”

“I don’t swap them out,” he rolls his eyes. “Breakups are normal.”

“Breakups are normal,” Garreth points out. “Six breakups in 2 years is an issue.”

“Maybe I’m just meant for the bachelor life,” he mumbles, ignoring the pointed accusation from Garreth. Fucking perceptive prick. “Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate in Hogwarts, asshole.”

Garreth grins, “Natty’s great, isn’t she?”

Sebastian and Andrew both throw their scarves at him, the three of them bursting out in laughter and boos.

“To the Three Broomsticks, then?” Andrew stood up, patting his pants.

As 7th years it was nearly impossible to take a breather with the looming threat of exams that will dictate the rest of your life and the inescapable trap of adulthood that awaits them in a couple of months. So, his friends had made it a point to at least go out once every week whenever they could, really take advantage of their last year as students where they had no other responsibility but to survive the week.

In a year’s time, seeing each other as often as they do will be nothing short of a miracle.

“Leander and Everett are already there, saved up a table since it’s a Friday, it’s gonna be packed full,” Andrew explains.

Sebastian looks around, eyes scanning the castle in the setting sun. “You go on ahead I’m waiting for –”

“Sebastian!”

A flash of movement appeared rushing down the stairs towards the boathouse, your face beaming as you waved to the three of them. When you were a foot away from him you jumped into his arms, shrieking energetically when he grabbed your waist and lifted you above his head.

“Sorry, I’m late,” you pant, smiling at your friends once you’re back on the ground. “Professor Hecate asked me to stay back for a minute, something about revisions on my research.”

“I can’t believe you got permission to research in The Restricted Section after the crazy nonsense you pulled in 5th year,” Garreth shook his head. Sebastian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side, beaming in pride. Nobody knows but the two of you that the very thing you were researching were the technicalities of how you broke Anne’s curse so it could be taught to the nurses in St. Mungos and hopefully spread to the rest of wizardkind.

“It’s exactly because I had the nerve to break the rules that I was given the honorable opportunity,” you dramatically curtsied. “And they said Gryffindors were the brave ones.”

That made Sebastian laugh. Garreth blinks, eyes squinting at him for a second but he doesn’t look offended, more … focused on Sebastian.

“Alright, no more of that House Rivalry. Quidditch Season is over,” Andrew quips.

“Wiped your asses there too, Larson,” he quipped, Andrew’s jaw drops, looking at Garreth for help and receiving none. He was still staring at Sebastian, eyes shifting between him and you.

Andrew groans. “Slytherins are assholes.”

Slytherins are, apparently, also light-weights.

Well, at least one of them is.

He adjusts his hold on your body as the other hand wraps his coat around your body properly. After your last ‘improved’ butterbeer you had slumped into his lap, rudely snoozing off on the crook of his neck and refusing to wake up even when it was time for your group to leave – not that he would’ve allowed that to happen, with your demanding research it was a miracle to get you to sleep let alone let loose.

The rest of the group had gone in first to scope the scenery and bribe the patrolling Head students with leftover chips while he and Garreth were stuck carrying you and an unconscious Amit that they had managed to catch last-minute in Hogsmeade. Poor bastard.

“I was thinking –”

“Please don’t,” he groans.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian stops his fussing, barely able to use his head to ensure he keeps walking, and continue to Act Normal, now using both of his hands to hold you tighter.

“You’re drunk,” he deflects. The puffs of your breath warm his entire body.

“Because! When I think about it …”

Please, for the love of the great Merlin stop thinking.

“You’ve been inseparable from the start! I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated. You say your past relationships got boring and got annoying but you’ve never been bored and annoyed with her and you’ve been friends for years!”

Bored with you? He’s had more near-fatal heart attacks because of you than breakups. Sebastian barely had the time to be bored. And sometimes you do get at each other’s throats but it was always fixed after a proper conversation. If his killing his uncle couldn’t turn you away then he doubts anything you do could ever turn him away.

“Plus, with all the respect and love to my beautiful darling Natty, she’s a fucking catch, mate!”

If Garreth wasn’t carrying a sinless half-dead Amit, Sebastian would’ve punched him in his mouth just to stop him from talking.

“I’m just saying,” Garreth walks ahead of him, clearly aware of the fuse he had just lit. Sebastian was tempted to kick the back of his knees just for the satisfaction of seeing him fall. “Maybe you can join the club and find your soulmate in Hogwarts.”

Garreth winks.

“We’re still accepting members.”

He’s decided.

He needs to kill Garreth.

He has not been able to sleep properly for the past week and it’s all because of that ginger prick and his needless remarks.

“Why have you two never dated?”

Sebastian’s pencil cracks in his hand.

“Is he alright?” he hears an underclassman whisper on the other table. He glances at them and they flinch. Quickly, he softens his expression ("You really need to stop scowling at people, Sebastian."), unaware he had glared at them and sent a wary smile in apology. It would just be unfair to aim his ire at innocent people when he could just use it to rip out every strand of Weasley’s hair.

“He’s been staring at that page for an hour. Maybe we should call –”

He stands up, escaping.

Sebastian never realized just how much he spent his time with you until people were looking at him funny when he was walking or sitting alone in public places. At first, he thought there had been crumbs on his face or one of his asshole friends stuck a note on his back like a kid. Plus, he hadn’t been feeling his best since that night but he thought it had been the lack of sleep.

It wasn’t until he had met Imelda on the grounds that he found his answer:

“Where’s the rest of you?”

He blinked at his captain, “I’m sorry?”

She shook her head. “Man, it feels weird seeing you alone. Did you guys have a fight? You’re usually shadowing her like a puppy after class.”

Then everything clicks, the strange looks, the feeling of missing something (like a forgotten important homework after he had reached the top of the Astronomy Tower) – it’s been a side effect of avoiding you.

Okay, it’s not that he’s avoiding you per se. He just needs space. He needs to think and he finds that can’t do that once he feels your eyes on him. With his luck, you’re going to see right through him and that would just be unideal if not a fucking catastrophe.

That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to stay off your way until he puts his thoughts in a row and finally screws his head on straight again. Or he could just kill Garreth, get sent straight to Azakaban, and avoid confronting these complicated thoughts altogether.

“I can’t believe it’s escaped my notice you’ve never dated!”

He sits on a bench, hands on his head as he let out a prolonged groan, “The fucking bastard.”

Why did he have to point it out? Why did Garreth have to bring what he, upon reflection, had buried on the back of his head, just waiting for that one little flick of acknowledgment before it blew his brains out.

Because Sebastian is a lot of things but he’s not a fucking moron.

It’s not that the thought of being together is unpleasant. If he lets himself consider it his chest feels like it would escape his ribcage both in excitement and utter terror.

But Garreth was right: he’d never thought about it before – hadn’t thought the idea was conceivable in this reality.

He has a feeling it was his way of preserving whatever pure relationship he had left. He’s not exactly rich with true companionship and he’s not idiotic enough to risk it all over a bloody crush.

And not just any crush – his best friend, the person who saved his life and then helped him rebuild it when he was finished smashing it to pieces. The one who never turned her back even when his blood had given up. The girl who has a line of eligible bachelors following her on their knees for a single chance, ones who could offer her more than he ever could – ones who could offer her the world.

So, yeah – forgive him, but he’s never really allowed himself to entertain the idea of them dating. Sebastian has tested his luck enough.

Unless the roles switch and he gets to save the wizarding world this time then maybe … yeah, maybe -- maybe in another fucking life.

The thought makes him stand up, walking straight out of the campus to hopefully drown the sorrows of the depressing state of his love life with the best fire whiskey Hogshead could offer. How does he even move on from this? How does he make peace with the fact that he has sealed his fate of living the rest of his life alone?

It’s impossible, he’s decided. Even if he graduates at the top of the classes he is taking and gets accepted into the Auror Programme that Sharp had recommended him for, their social standing is still heavens apart. He’s an orphan, with a husk of an extended family and no money to his name.

It wouldn’t matter to you, never really cared for pure bloodlines or lineages and he knows anyone who brings that up when they’re courting you will receive the most disgusted look on your face.

But he cares – you are the most special person in his life. He wants the best for you. And the best is not something he can provide.

His depressing thoughts halt as his steps falter, a familiar scent tickling his nose. A familiar scent that leads straight into the Forbidden Forest. When he looks up to the sky, he realizes the sun has almost finished setting.

She can’t be that reckless, right?

He was barely surprised when he chanted the incantation that triggered the charm they had both put in their necklaces, the sparkling thread leads straight into the forest. And if he knows you half as well as he thinks he does then he knows exactly where it’s gonna lead to.

There goes his late-night plan.

It isn’t exactly his first jaunt in the forbidden space but it still gives him the creeps especially so close to the night. Why you’re so fond of the place is something he’ll never understand.

But that’s just the way you were, just another part of your quirks that makes you so endearing.

How you throw your head back when you laugh, that you get so cranky when you’re studying that no one dares to approach you but him, even the way you messily eat your favorite chocolate pastry of the week yet never fail to share a piece with him.

With this new revelation, he bitterly accepts the reason for his philandering ways. That he simply is another prick who is coping with not being able to attain the love of his life at the expense of those poor girls.

His self-condemnation however was cut short when he heard the waterfall, not being able to help the smirk on his face when he turned the corner and found you just as he had expected: in the middle of the clear, dark, water, floating carelessly on your back.

Gods, you are a beauty. He’s always thought so, the entire male population in Hogwarts thought so too. If they somehow get to break through your walls and manage to get to know you, he might just have to beat them away with an actual stick.

“Sebastian,” you smile, his heart stops. “I knew you’d find me.”

You swim to him gracefully, barely disturbing the water with only your eyes above the water but there was no hiding the grin in your face. Like a pitiful sailor seduced by a siren, his feet dragged him to the edge, a short ledge above from where you were looking up at him.

“You left your scent on purpose,” he states, kneeling to get a closer look at you. What a beauty – mischievous, cunning, irresistible. He’s never loved anyone more. “Naughty, naughty, darling.”

She pulls herself up the ledge, their faces inches away from each other. He nails his eyes to yours so they wouldn’t be tempted to look down at your soaking figure cloaked only by a thin chemise “I had to get you somehow, knew you couldn’t resist a damsel in distress.”

“Funny,” he softly glares, chuckling when she preens, clearly satisfied that her plan worked perfectly. “With all the water in the Black Lake, you had to pick the Forbidden Forest to swim in.”

You dip yourself back down in the water, swimming away but still facing him. “Come, Sebastian. I’ve been bored all week since you’ve been avoiding me.”

Guilt runs through his spine at the sudden coldness in your offhanded comment. Clearly, his absence hasn’t escaped your notice as he had hoped.

Like a scolded pup, he follows your command to a T. Eyes never leaving your floating figure as he removed his coat, folding it neatly along with the rest of his clothes until he was left in his underclothes.

He winces at the touch of the freezing water. A heating charm would do wonders but the way your unsympathetic eyes never left his figure gave him a feeling that this was a punishment he was meant to endure.

He steels himself, diving into the water and only resurfacing when he is right in front of you. “You called?”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” you splash the cold water at him, shrieking when he reaches out for your arms and barely managing to slip away.

He dives again, grinning at your confused flounder, until you realize your mistake, looking down just as he catches your waist, your surprised shriek, and his unrestrained laughter breaks through the quiet of the forest.

“You done running now, pet?” he locks his hands on your back, pushing you close until he is carrying both your weight in the water, chin resting on your chest as your hands run through his soaking hair.

Your darkened hair frames your face, like a sheer curtain it drops, teasing his cheeks, and hiding your conversation from the rest of the forest – in the dimness, your eyes have never been more radiant, even if it was clearly pissed at him.

Skinship wasn’t foreign between the two of you. When you’ve saved each other’s lives from certain death more times than you care to count, cuddling is the least of your worries.

But there is something about the forest's silence, the sparse moonlight that peaks through the dense trees, the sound of the droplets falling from your hair to the water, and the distant echoes of the animals that make everything intimate. -- more intimate than usual.

“Are you?” you throw his question back at him mercilessly, your hands on the back of his neck, locking his face to look up at you – finally at you. The weeklong separation had been torture and now that the distance had cut his regular contact with his favorite witch, he finally realized how fast his heart was beating when he was around her.

He smiles.

He was satisfied, he swore he was.

Sebastian’s life was finally okay – passable, up-to-scratch, satisfactory. He shouldn’t strive for more, couldn’t allow himself that luxury – the luxury of love, the luxury of you.

But as he stares at your eyes, as he feels the ice in your skin, as he imagines a future where it wasn't him that gets to bite the plump of your lips – that dirty, greedy part of him crawls out of the hole he had shoved it in.

He feels it win.

“Are you done running now?” you whisper, a droplet falls from the tip of your nose to the space just below his eyes, his breath hitches, like your magnetic presence had sucked out all the air of the forest.

“I wasn’t running,” she raises a brow, and Sebastian presses his lips to your ears. “I was thinking.”

“And?”

Leander was right: he really is a bastard.

But he’s a bastard who will no longer wait for another life to love you. He's a bastard who will get what he wants.

“I think,” he whispers, at peace. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

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anto-pops · 1 year ago

Text

Cheirophilia - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

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

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

Word Count: 10.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since then, your mind had wandered an unhealthy amount.

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

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

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

“Did something happen over summer?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah. He thought you were delusional. Brilliant.

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

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

Something was definitely wrong with you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

He knew.

He had to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He absolutely fucking knew.

***

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

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

Affectionately, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bastard, you thought.

Fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who were you to say no?

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

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

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

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

You’d officially lost your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really had gotten bigger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit– I’m close, I’m so close–”

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

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

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

“Should I start wearing gloves now?”

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

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

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #kicking down the doors of 2024 with the longest oneshot ever to grace my google doc #dropping this depravity here and exiting stage left #my writing

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radical-ghostface · 1 year ago

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HOGWARTS LEGACY

TWT PORN LINKS

~~ TW: This contains real pornography. These links will take you to real videos posted by real people. My intention is never to make anyone uncomfortable so if this is something you are not comfortable with I urge you to please click away. ~~

Lazy morning sex with Seb

Seb fingering you in the RoR

Overstimming with Omi

Helping Seb celebrate after winning a quidditch match

Messy tit jobs with Garreth in prof Sharp's classroom

Facesitting with Omi

Alone time with Omi in the Undercroft

Teasing Garreth

Seb fucking you after a stressful day of classes

Make up sex with Seb

Garreth likes it when you take control

Seb can't keep his hands off you after seeing you in his sweater

Ominis knows how to use his hands

Garreth loves how you taste

Merciless Seb

Ruining sub Garreths orgasam

Making out with Omi in his dorm

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anomalyaly · 4 months ago

Text

right where you left me

Summary: You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.

I profusely apologize for the pain.

Inspired by @sychenb for the prompt idea. Also crediting @sloanesallow for her headcanon about Sebastian keeping track of numbers.

(also sort of inspired by Unus Annus - iykyk - and Taylor Swift, if you couldn't guess by the title)

Tags: Angst, F!Reader POV (you), unreliable narrator, vague ship (Sebastian x reader/Ominis x reader), Sebastian was in love with you but never confessed, death, grief, ambiguous ending, overall the sads in general, I cried while writing this

[AO3/Wattpad]

It had been 279 days since you died.

At least, that’s what Sebastian tells you — your portrait, anyway. It was all that was left of you after the devastating battle you had fought and never walked away from. You hadn’t even known he’d had a portrait of you commissioned when you were alive until you woke up, your body cold, your face illuminated by the flickering candles of the Undercroft.

He comes to visit you every day — some days, he simply sits in front of you, cross-legged and silent. You creep into the frame and study him, the shadows on his face, a haunted look in his eye — unfamiliar. You can only recall a bright, talkative, charming boy with whom you were once close. You didn’t recognize him the first time he visited you, yet his presence brings you comfort.

On other days, you see traces of the boy he was before. He bursts in through the gate talking nonstop about everyone who misses you, about something he saw that you would have liked or that reminded him of you. Sometimes, he even brings you gifts and places them in front of your frame so you can admire them when he’s away.

That’s where he keeps you — hidden behind a wooden crate in the Undercroft like a sacred shrine, untouched by anyone but him. He only speaks with you when he is alone.

Another boy comes in on occasion, and you only know because of the sound of his voice and the pulsing red light of his wand that you can see from behind the pile of crates. Ominis, you remember Sebastian telling you, another friend from when you were alive. Sometimes they argue, other times they refuse to acknowledge each other. But Sebastian always keeps you tucked away, his own personal secret.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he sighs as he plops down in front of you. “300 days since you…well, since— ”

He could never bring himself to finish that sentence, even after almost a year. You never finish it for him.

“Are you going back to Feldcroft?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t do that to you.”

You knew he probably hadn’t been back since that dreadful day. He had only spoken of it once to refresh your memory. He never brought it up again.

“Sebastian,” you say, and he perks up at the sound of his name leaving your painted lips, “how come you always hide me away when Ominis comes in? Doesn’t he want to talk to me, too?”

His eyes flash with something — anger, perhaps, it was hard to tell from your two-dimensional world — and he stands, approaching your portrait. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only a portrait,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you’ve been practicing necromancy.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, but you don’t completely understand why. He turns away from you, fists clenched, shoulders tense and hunched over, before running his fingers through his hair and repeating himself more adamantly. “He wouldn’t understand.”

You remember him uttering a similar statement throughout your short life at Hogwarts — secrets that only the two of you shared, unbeknownst to Ominis until it was too late. “Surely he misses me, too— ”

“Did you love him?”

The question takes you by surprise, though you think it’s not the first time he’s asked it. “What?”

Sebastian whirls to face you, his gaze intense, demanding. “Did you love him? Or did you love me?”

Your portrait blinks, confused. Truthfully, you hadn’t been alive nearly long enough to confirm your feelings for either of them, but you knew that both boys had been important to you during your last few months of life. The portrait of you had only been a time capsule of your fifteen-year-old self — undecided and immature. You’re not even certain if the emotions you feel now are real or remnants of what you experienced when you were alive. “I…I cared deeply for both of you if that’s what you’re asking.”

Your answer nearly breaks him, as if he’s heard it a million times before. He tugs at his hair, the movement causing him to look frenzied and mad. “That’s not what I asked! Who did you — ”

“Sebastian?”

The voice of the intruder causes both of you to freeze. Sebastian pulls himself out from behind the crate and holds a finger to his lips before pushing it in front of you once more.

“Over here, Ominis.”

You hear footsteps and see the red glow of the other boy’s wand, then shuffling as Sebastian strategically places himself in front of the wooden box. The echoing footsteps grow closer, and you straighten at Ominis’s frantic tone as he speaks.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks. “I…I thought I heard…her.”

“No one else is here but me,” Sebastian says, guarded.

You can practically feel Ominis’s internal struggle to believe him. You decide that there have been enough secrets between the three of you — you’re not going to let it carry on post-mortem.

“Ominis? Is that you?” you call out. You hear Sebastian press his body against the crate in front of you. Ominis pushes past him, and they both tumble into it, knocking it over and exposing your portrait.

Chaos ensues at Ominis’s realization. The two boys are shouting at each other in front of you as you are helpless to stop them — Ominis, for having yet another secret kept from him, and Sebastian, for defending his reasonings. You aren’t sure if it’s because of jealousy, grief, or some combination of the two, but all you want is for the noise to stop.

You call out helplessly from your portrait, wishing you could step between them, just as you had done time and time again all those months ago. Before everything had gone so wrong.

Suddenly, hot, angry tears are pouring down both of their faces, and you are overcome with just how useless you are at this moment — a fragmented memory, trapped within the confines of your magical canvas. You want nothing more than to hug each of them, to let them feel your arms around them in comfort and take their pain away.

But you are gone.

The two boys now stand solemn and silent in front of you. Ominis takes a step closer, his wand hovering over your portrait before he runs his fingers along the gilded frame. “Is it…really you?”

“No.” You can hear the flatness in Sebastian’s voice, how tired and worn he truly is. He repeats exactly what you thought only moments before as if to confirm it. “She hardly remembers what happened, or even who we are. She’s just a fragment. A memory.”

You want to argue that it is you, but you know that he’s right. You barely remembered your living self until Sebastian explained everything to you on his daily visits. Whispers of your personality still shine through on occasion, but you are otherwise simply existing.

Ominis sighs, and you can hear the weight behind it, as if he had been holding his breath and finally allowed himself to release it. He traces his fingers along the divots of the frame once more, and you try to will yourself to feel it.

The two boys exchange an unspoken conversation that thickens the tension in the air. They seem to come to an agreement, and you let out a small breath — if you can call it that — of relief when they sit down in front of you and appear to bask in your presence. You stay quiet and allow them this moment — it’s the only thing you can do.

The days that follow are the same. No longer is Sebastian coming in alone for covert meetings with your portrait. Now, you see both Sebastian and Ominis at the same time every single day, a religious appointment that they’ve set aside just for you. They take turns talking to you, even if they can only manage a few words, and you learn to appreciate their company, knowing that you were loved by both of them in life.

Just like old times, Sebastian says, and the three of you laugh.

Christmas approaches quickly, or that’s what they say when they come to visit a short while later. They bring your favorite things from when you were alive — chocolate frogs, flowers, even books, which Sebastian reads to you — and they tell you stories about you and the kind of person they knew you to be. You wonder if it’s true, or if they have created an idealistic image of you since you are no longer there with them. Not really.

Kind, they say that you were, thoughtful, loving, self-sacrificial, and maybe a bit idealistic. You were friends with both of them, after all, the mischievous pair that they were, before everything was taken away from them, before life was unfair. They try to smile for you and remind you that Christmas at the castle is a time for celebration, but you can tell that it’s a weak facade.

You smile back at them anyway.

The anniversary of your death approaches. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything, aside from a few words to honor you. So the three of you sit in tearful silence, admiring the flowers that they decorated your portrait with. You think you can almost smell the sweet aroma of the bouquets.

Something changes in the air — you can sense it — though you aren’t sure what. You notice it when their visits become shorter, with fewer stories to tell, and fewer presents left in front of your frame. Sebastian and Ominis start showing up at separate times, stopping in for a brief hello before leaving with an excuse. You start to wonder what they are doing when they are gone, but you are unable to leave your frame — only one portrait of you was ever commissioned.

Soon, they start missing days, returning at a later time with profuse apologies about how life was busy, but they still miss you. Difficult classes, detention, studying for NEWTs, and preparing for a career — all of these seem to take precedence over you. But they still manage to make time in all of the hectic day-to-day activities, and you look forward to the days when they do come.

You wake up one morning and realize you are in a different location — Feldcroft, most likely, though you hadn’t seen it since that fateful day. Sebastian hangs your frame up on the wall, promising that he and Ominis will come to visit you more often now that they have graduated.

They don’t.

The length of time in between seeing them grows longer, you’re certain of it. Each time one of them arrives, they look a little bit different — sometimes they have longer hair, other times a bit of scruff around their chins, but they always come in looking more weathered than they had when you last saw them.

You realize that they are doing something that you will never again be able to join them in — growing older. You start to wonder about their lives outside of you, yet your painted mind cannot comprehend what an adult life looks like, forever frozen in your adolescent state. You find that you are unable to relate to any of their stories, and they seem to be holding back in what they choose to share.

I wish you were still here, they always say before they go, and you start to wonder if they mean it.

At long last, the visits from your once two closest friends become scarce, and you aren’t certain how much time has passed since someone last spoke to you. The bright flowers that once decorated your golden frame wither and die, and the little gifts they used to leave stay untouched and unopened. The tiny cottage in Feldcroft becomes a sepulcher of your essence — a permanent reminder that you are no longer among the living.

You can’t help but wonder if it was something you did, if their reasons for not returning were your fault. You can feel the stories that they used to tell you fading away, unable to retain the memories in your current form.

You decide that it’s time to rest.

In the quiet house, just south of Hogwarts, your portrait closes its eyes. You do not wake again.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #angst #hl fanfic #hl angst #hogwarts legacy angst fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy oneshot #reader pov

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