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solxamber · 2 months ago

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Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist

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whizzing-fizzbee · 19 days ago

Text

Black Butterflies & Deja Vu

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (F!MC) Rating: Explicit 18+, MDNI (smut, profanity), all characters are 18+ Words: 5,474 Themes: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, shameless smut

Summary: Your best friend Sebastian Sallow has been downright angsty lately. You have no idea it's because he's lovesick over you, until Anne and Ominis force your hands.

Notes: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested some Sebastian Sallow angst and smut. Decided to write this one inspired by the song "Black Butterflies & Deja Vu" by The Maine. All characters are 18-year-old seventh years. Reader/MC is a Ravenclaw.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow sighed and hurled another stone into the Black Lake. It pierced the water’s surface with a sharp splash and sank to its deep demise. Sebastian wished he could do the same.

Perhaps that was a bit dramatic, but Sebastian was feeling rather melancholy. Another Saturday spent alone while you were whisked off to Hogsmeade by yet another suitor.

Or so he thought.

In truth, you were only with Amit Thakkar to help your fellow Ravenclaw craft a plan to ask out Poppy Sweeting. You were fond of Amit – he was handsome and thoughtful – but the notion of any romantic interest between the two of you was laughable. You were gutsy; the type to charge into combat and to speak your mind. Amit was introspective; more of the type to read up on his enemies rather than fight them.

Besides, Amit had it bad for your friend, Poppy. He told you her kindness toward creatures was endearing to him, but he also appreciated how she fought for her convictions. Ever since you and Poppy took down the poachers of Horntail Hall, Amit admired her creed.

Now, it was your seventh year and Amit felt like he was running out of time. You assured him that Poppy would likely say yes to a date. She often spoke highly of Amit, noting his kind and studious nature. Sure, Amit wasn’t the most adventurous student, but you’d seen him hold his own in combat the time you took him to a goblin mine. He had more moxie than he let on.

So when Amit asked you for help, you eagerly agreed. Now that you no longer had to worry about goblin rebellions or Anne Sallow’s curse, you had time for more fun and frivolous quests – like playing matchmaker for two friends.

You spent the afternoon in the Three Broomsticks with Amit to help him decide how and when to ask Poppy on a date. Once it was decided that you’d let him use your vivarium so that he and Poppy could spend time with your unicorns, you toasted to your plan with a round of butterbeers before returning to the castle.

You were practically skipping with satisfaction. Your plan was bound to work and you couldn’t wait to see what may come of Poppy and Amit’s romance.

But Sebastian didn’t know that. To him, Amit was just another sorry bloke who had joined the long line of people desperate to know you on a deeper level. But no one knew you the way Sebastian did. It was more than your secrets, though; sure, he knew those – about Ranrok, your ancient magic and the Keepers – but he also knew your feelings. He knew your fears, sorrows and your emotional triggers. He knew how you liked your tea in the afternoons. He knew you couldn’t fall asleep without reading before bed each night. And he knew you dreamed of a life free from the pain and suffering you’d been forced to live since your fifth year.

That’s why Sebastian never spoke a word of his feelings for you. You were strong and sensible; kind and clever. You were brilliant in every way possible; beautiful inside and out, worthy of all the admiration you received. He decided he was too weak and insignificant to ever deserve you. He was reckless and weak; he gave in to dark magic and it nearly ruined his life – and yours. You deserved a world of warmth and prosperity. Sebastian carried too much darkness.

Of course, Sebastian had spent every day since Solomon’s death trying to make up for it. You were proud of the work he’d put in to resurrect himself from the dark cavern he’d been drawn to because of that relic. You often told him so, because you wanted him to forgive himself and see himself as someone who deserved to be happy.

But Sebastian loved you far too much to risk tainting you with any more of his poison. So instead of simply telling you how much you meant to him, he remained in the shadows as a bystander, witnessing all the ways your glow captivated anyone privileged enough to cross your path.

Of course you’d chosen Amit, Sebastian thought. Amit was polished and smart, generous and astute. He calculated life with consideration rather than sprinting headfirst without reason the way Sebastian did. Amit had a wealth of information and creativity, always writing in his stacks of notebooks or gazing at the stars in awe. The only thing that left Sebastian in awe was you. You were his North Star.

As you returned to the school grounds, you spotted a familiar figure sulking by the lake. You said goodbye to Amit and tread carefully toward Sebastian.

“Seb,” you said, pulling your sweater tightly around yourself. The early stages of fall were creeping across the Highlands, bringing a new chill to the air. “Seb, what are you doing out here?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian answered tersely. You flinched at his coarse tone. Sure, Sebastian could be brooding and moody, but not usually toward you. He adored you.

You and Sebastian were closer than ever. The events of your fifth year left you both fragile and forlorn; you, because you lost your mentor, Professor Fig, while the repository remained your burden to bear; Sebastian, because he lost more than his uncle when Anne refused to forgive him. The two of you were left with each other, so you leaned inward and formed a bond that could only be understood by two people who shared an unspeakable trauma.

Then you killed Victor Rookwood and Anne Sallow’s curse was lifted. When she began to heal, so did her relationship with Sebastian. He had you to thank for it, and you were merely happy to see him smile again. It brought you even closer.

But something shifted as time passed. You and Sebastian remained bonded, but the new layers of adulthood began to stack between you. He watched your classmates eye you like candy in the corridors. You listened to them whisper and giggle when Sebastian returned tanned and taller after a summer growth spurt.

But for all the rumors and mumblings about the nature of your relationship with Sebastian – “Are they together yet? Is it true they snogged in the Restricted Section? Will they or won’t they?” – you and Sebastian had never broached the subject.

It broke your heart every single day. Everyone else thought you and Sebastian belonged together. So did you. But you were merely one half of the equation and Sebastian never seemed to count you as a love interest.

“Sebastian, what’s wrong?” you asked, frowning at his cool demeanor.

“Just hanging out,” he said simply. He skipped a flat rock across the water, scattering a cluster of butterflies that hovered near the surface.

“Why weren’t you in Hogsmeade?” you asked innocently.

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you care?”

You swallowed, hurt by the way he was lashing out. He was known to have a short fuse – his emotions often got the best of him – but he always treated you with more delicate tact.

His eyes always softened when he looked at you. His touch became gentler and his words became tender. You were the calm to his storm, so it scared you to see dark clouds in his eyes.

“Sebastian, what is wrong?” you demanded. “Have I done something?”

“Other than Amit Thakkar? No. Well, unless you include Larson and Weasley too.”

“What? What do they have to do with-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sebastian snapped.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you angry at me for going to Hogsmeade with Amit?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he repeated.

“It does matter,” you pushed back. “It wasn’t a date. In fact, I was helping him plan a date. With Poppy.”

“What?” Sebastian finally pulled his gaze from the lake to turn toward you, his own eyes narrowed in confusion.

“I was helping Amit form a plan to ask Poppy out,” you said. “He’s fancied her forever.”

“Oh.”

“What’s this about, Seb? Is that really why you’ve been pouting here by the lake all day?”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

You rolled your eyes and hugged your arms around his torso, resting your head against his back. You did this often, as it always seemed to relax Sebastian when he was moody.

“Tortured and forlorn isn’t a good look on you,” you quipped before you released him.

He sighed and turned to look at you. “Sorry. I suppose I’m just feeling a bit down, is all,” Sebastian said.

“I know,” you said gently. “I know it’s nearly Halloween.”

Halloween was a difficult time of year for Sebastian. The holiday wasn’t fun and frivolous for him the way it was for others. For him, it was the anniversary of his parents’ death.

Sebastian’s lips thinned as he stilled himself. You reached downward to give his hand a gentle squeeze and spent the remainder of the afternoon comforting him by the quiet lake.

---

Later that evening, you sat with Ominis Gaunt and Anne Sallow in the Undercroft. Sebastian had trudged off to bed, leaving the three of you to continue your Ancient Runes studies.

The Undercroft was quiet as your quill scratched quietly over parchment, a stark contrast from the roar happening inside your head. Finally, you tossed your quill onto the table and sat back in your chair. Anne looked up at your sudden movement and Ominis leaned forward.

“I’m worried about Sebastian,” you said.

“Get in line,” Ominis muttered dryly.

“I know the anniversary of your parents’ death is approaching, but I think it’s more than that,” you sighed as you looked at Anne, who nodded in understanding. “He just seems so… sulky.”

“Sulky?” Ominis mused. “I suppose that’s one word for it.”

“So you’ve noticed it too?”

“Of course, I have,” Ominis said.

“You’re right, it’s not just our parents,” Anne said. She and Ominis shared a glance that made you uncomfortable, as if they knew something you didn’t.

“What is it?” you demanded with a frown.

“We think he’s lovesick,” Anne said with a soft laugh. You blinked as you processed her words, your stomach deflating as if she’d punched you there.

Sebastian was in love. That was the hardest pill to swallow, but the fact that he hadn’t told you made it even more painful. He told you everything.

“Lovesick?” you repeated. “Sebastian?” Anne nodded while Ominis folded his arms across his chest, the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But he hasn’t mentioned anyone to me. And I haven’t seen him with anyone lately.”

It was Ominis’ turn to blink. “He isn’t dating anyone,” he said. “He’s distraught over someone he thinks he can’t have.”

“Who?” you pressed. “Is it Nerida? Because-”

“Oh, please.” Ominis snorted. “Sebastian wouldn’t be arsed over someone as scatterbrained as Nerida Roberts. Give him some more credit than that.”

“But I heard they hooked up.”

“Even if they did, she’s not the one Sebastian’s pining after,” Anne remarked.

“Then who?”

Another silent exchange of glances and you glared at your friends. “What aren’t you telling me?” you demanded, hurt that they were keeping a secret from you. There were no secrets when it came to Sebastian and you.

“And I thought Ravenclaws were smart,” Ominis teased.

“Why won’t you tell me?” you pushed, your hurt frustrating beginning to surge. It was bad enough Sebastian was in love with someone else, but your friends withholding it from you twisted the knife deeper.

“We don’t need to tell you,” Anne said. You couldn’t decide if she was amused or annoyed.

“Why not? I clearly have no idea who it is.”

“Clearly,” Ominis said dryly.

“So then tell me!”

“We can’t,” Anne said simply. “If it isn’t obvious to you, you aren’t ready to know.”

Tears stung your eyes at your friends’ callousness. Was this their payback for the secrets you kept from them your fifth year? Of course, you’d never told them how you felt about Sebastian. How could you? Ominis would tell you to run far, far away from your chaotic friend. And Anne was his sister. She’d never understand.

“Fine,” you snapped, shuffling your parchment and quills into a pile. You shoved your chair back as you rose to your feet and gathered your study materials in your arms. “It’s also obvious to me I’m not meant to know, so I suppose I’ll call it a night.”

You scurried from the Undercroft, hurt and confused.

---

The following day, Sebastian seethed over his breakfast. He watched you from the Slytherin table as you laughed with your fellow Ravenclaws. Andrew Larson was leaning in particularly close to you and Sebastian hated the way he was looking at you. Sebastian looked at you the same way.

He couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to lust over his best friend, but everything you did, every move you made, forced him into a wild spiral. Sometimes he even forgot how to string together a coherent sentence when you were around, like when you’d subconsciously bite your bottom lip while deep in thought, or the time you fell into a creek and he could see through your blouse.

Sebastian was so busy glaring daggers at Andrew, he didn’t notice the arrival of Ominis and Anne. Anne turned to see the source of her brother’s miffed expression and sighed as she sat down.

“Sebastian, stop,” she scolded. “If you scowl any more, you’re going to accidentally hex half the Ravenclaw table.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if it includes Larson,” Sebastian muttered as he tore his gaze away.

“What’s wrong with Larson?” Anne asked. “He seems nice enough.”

“Don’t be so daft,” Sebastian mumbled. Anne set down her water goblet as her eyes pierced Sebastian with annoyance.

“Sebastian, this has got to stop,” she said forcefully. “You’re acting insufferable.”

“She’s right,” Ominis chimed in. “All of this moping about is becoming unbearable. Just tell her already.”

“Tell who what?”

“Who’s the daft one now?” Anne clucked her tongue. “Come on, Sebastian. It’s clearer than crystal. Everyone knows you’re in love with her.”

“In love with who?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Anne snapped. “Now either tell her or we will.”

“You won’t say a word,” Sebastian threatened. “Mind your business.”

“You’re making it our business with your sour attitude,” Anne said. “We can’t stand it anymore. And frankly, neither can she. You’re just lucky she’s too in love with you to gain any sense.”

“She’s what?”

Anne sat back and smirked. “Come on now,” she continued. “Even you aren’t this dense.”

“Did she say something to you?” Sebastian demanded.

“No,” Anne said simply. “Sometimes the truth is in what we don’t say.”

---

After dinner, you decided to check on Sebastian. You hadn’t seen much of him that day, but you had seen the way he seemingly scowled at you in the Great Hall.

You descended the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower to make the trek toward the Slytherin Dungeons. But as you approached the Quad Courtyard, you were met by Anne.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

“Anne? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you. Have you forgotten about your detention?”

“Detention?”

“Remember, for last week’s Potions incident?”

“But that wasn’t me. That was all Garreth’s f-”

“But Sharp gave you both detention for it, remember?” Anne asked. “He said you were complicit in the explosion since you were Weasley’s partner that day.”

“But…” your voice trailed off as you racked your brain to remember. You couldn’t recall Professor Sharp scolding you or giving you detention. Surely, you would have remembered that.

“You need to get down to the Detention Chamber,” Anne said urgently. “You’re fifteen minutes late.”

“But-”

“Go! Sharp’s already livid. He sent me because I happened to be walking by. Weasley’s already there.”

You groaned. How did you forget? This surely meant you’d receive a second detention for your tardiness.

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’m on my way.” You thanked Anne and hurried to the dungeons.

“Sorry I’m late, professor!” you exclaimed as you shoved your way through the door to the Detention Chamber. You froze when it became clear Professor Sharp wasn’t there. Neither was Garreth Weasley. Sebastian was the only other occupant, sitting at the front of the room.

“Where’s Sharp?” you asked, confused.

“Sharp? No idea,” Sebastian answered, looking equally confused. “Where’s Binns?”

“Binns?”

“He apparently gave me detention for falling asleep in class last week,” Sebastian explained. “I don’t even remember it. But Anne said-”

“Anne said you had detention?” Your brow furrowed as your suspicion spiked. “But Anne told me-”

A sudden click from the door behind you made you whirl around. You reached for the door handle and found it was locked.

“Hey!” you shouted. “There’s people in here! Unlock the door!”

“No.”

Your eyes widened at the voice on the other side of the door. “Anne?”

“We’re not letting you out until the two of you confess,” Anne’s voice said.

“Confess? Confess what? And who’s we?” Sebastian appeared next to you, his arms crossed as he frowned at the door.

“You know what,” Anne’s voice replied pointedly.

“What’s she talking about?” you asked, turning to stare at Sebastian. He shrugged.

“I have no idea. Anne, open the door.”

“No.”

“Ominis? Are you out there too? Are you in on this?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” came Ominis’ voice.

Sebastian cursed. Neither of you had your wands – students had to place them in a lock box outside the chamber upon entry so that you couldn’t use magic during detention. The box wouldn’t unlock itself until the full detention was served.

“Let us out!” you shouted at the door. “This is ridiculous! You can’t keep us in here!”

“You can and we will,” Anne responded. “We’ll be back soon.”

You pressed your ear to the door and could hear their footsteps fading down the corridor. You sighed and turned to press your back against the door.

“What’s this about?” you demanded, your eyes narrowing at Sebastian.

“I don’t know,” he said as he ran a hand through his already tousled hair.

“What do they want you to confess?” you asked.

“They said ‘the two of you,’” Sebastian pointed out. “We’re both meant to confess something.”’

“Confess what? We don’t keep secrets from one another.”

Sebastian sighed and paced toward the front of the classroom. He leaned forward against the large desk at the front of the room, his hands gripping the desktop while he appeared deep in thought.

“They think we… have feelings for each other,” he said, his back still to you as he gazed downward at the desktop.

“What?!”

“They think you and I have romantic attractions,” he said. He turned to face you and crossed his arms again.

“You can’t be serious,” you laughed nervously. Heat began to creep up the back of your neck. “Why do they think that?” Sebastian gazed at you with tired eyes that startled you. Your tense posture slackened as you frowned in concern. “Sebastian? Are you okay?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not. I’m exhausted.”

“Do you want to sit down?” you asked as you crossed the chamber to approach him. “Maybe you’re ill.”

The conversation you had with Anne and Ominis drifted to the front of your mind.

“We think he’s lovesick,” Anne had said.

You paused. Dare you ask? What if the answer killed you?

“Sebastian,” you started carefully. “Are you… have you got a crush on someone? Is that why you’ve been so moody lately? Anne mentioned you’ve seemed a little lovesick.”

And to your absolute, utter shock, Sebastian began to laugh. Dread coursed through your blood as you waited for him to regain his composure.

“Anne’s right, this really is unbearable,” he said as he shook his head. He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, so you closed more distance and leaned backward against a desk across from him.

Sebastian’s eyes roamed you up and down. It made you shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“The answer is yes,” he finally continued. “I do have feelings for someone. That’s what Anne and Ominis want me to confess.”

“Who? Who do you have feelings for?” you asked, ignoring the sting that was twisting shards of heartache inside your chest.

Sebastian’s expression didn’t change. His eyes lingered on you as he seemed to be fighting impatience.

“You really don’t know?” he asked.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” you complained. “Clearly I don’t.”

Sebastian dug the palms of his hands against his eyes as if seeing clearer might make you see clearer. “They keep asking because the answer is obvious,” he said. “The answer is you.”

His words seemed to hover between you, an invisible line begging to be crossed. All you had to do was break the plane.

“Me?” you asked stupidly.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the naivety plastered all over your face. “Yes, you,” he answered. “It really can’t be that much of a surprise, can it? I haven’t exactly been subtle about it.”

“I thought you were just being protective of me,” you said breathlessly. The cool dungeon felt hot and your hands were clammy. This wasn’t happening. You had to be lost in one of your countless dreams about Sebastian, fantasizing over all the ways he’d show you how much he loved you.

“I was,” Sebastian said simply. “I was protecting you from me.”

“What?”

Sebastian paced in front of the desk. “You deserve so much more than someone like me,” he confessed. “I mean, look at you. You’re… everything. I’m just the fool who got lucky enough to call you a friend.”

“Sebastian, that’s not for you to decide,” you said, your eyes still wide at the stunning revelation. “You don’t get to pick for me. And I’ll always pick you.”

“What?”

Suddenly, you understood the frustration that Anne and Ominis felt. You were stunned the two hadn’t strangled you and Sebastian both by now. You were no longer angry with them; you were grateful.

“This is all so ridiculous,” you breathed with a laugh. You stepped toward Sebastian and it was his turn to look surprised. “Sebastian, can we both just confess already?”

“You… you really mean it? You’re not just trying to get out of here?”

“On the contrary,” you said as you took another step toward him. “I’m trying to make the most of our time.”

You grabbed him by the front of his jumper and pulled him into a kiss. It was soft at first, but you grew hungry for more until your hands became balls of taut wool and your tongue was dragging along Sebastian’s bottom lip.

His hands snapped to your waist and pulled you against his body as he kissed you deeper. His tongue clashed with yours until you were gasping for air.

“Wait,” you laughed as you broke apart to catch your breaths. “We still need to confess.”

“I love you,” Sebastian said immediately. His eyes were heavy with a new level of affection that was foreign to you. It made your chest swell and heart race.

“I love you too,” you breathed. Sebastian smiled and leaned in to kiss you more gently this time.

“This was a lot easier than I thought it’d be,” you murmured once he pulled away.

Sebastian laughed as his thumbs traced gentle circles over your hip. He smiled at you with so much love and lust, your knees would surely give out. Luckily, you had a solution for that.

You pulled him into another forceful kiss, tugging on his jumper until he moved away from the desk. You spun so that your own back was pressed against it, pulling him into you until he lifted you onto the desktop. You wrapped your legs around him, your hands tugging at the hem of his jumper.

You could already feel his erection digging into the skin of your thigh. You’d never wanted anything so badly in your life.

You slipped the sweater over his head and dragged your palms over his bare chest, the feeling of his skin sending shockwaves through your fingertips. You couldn’t believe you were finally touching him in the sinful manner that only existed in your forbidden fantasies.

“Can I take this off?” Sebastian asked as his fingers grazed the top button of your blouse.

“If you don’t, I will,” you replied. He grinned at your response and kissed you.

Once all the buttons were parted, Sebastian shoved your shirt onto the desk behind you. His hands skimmed over your waist and held your hips as he pulled you hard against him, your inner thigh grinding against his erection.

You decided you hated the feeling of his trousers against your skin. You fumbled with his belt buckle and zipper until you could shove his remaining clothing to the floor, freeing his cock from the layers of fabric.

Your breath hitched at the sight of it. Sex wasn’t new to you but someone of that size certainly was. You internally scolded yourself for depriving yourself from this for so long.

Sebastian’s hands snaked beneath the hem of your skirt, the pads of his fingers stroking the tops of your thighs. He licked his lips at the heat radiating from your body.

As he leaned in to kiss you, one of his hands found the apex between your thighs, grazing two fingers over the fabric of your panties.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned as he felt the moisture of the fabric. He planted a trail of kisses from your neck across your collarbone, stopping with one final peck to your right shoulder.

His thumb brushed patterns over your entrance and you whimpered in frustration at the fabric separating your flesh. Sebastian smirked and inched your panties to the side with his thumb and index finger until your entrance was exposed. His thumb returned, this time running up and down over your wet folds. You could feel his cock twitch against your thigh.

But he had to taste you first. His lips left a trail of kisses from your neck and between your breasts until he lowered himself to a kneeling position. One more kiss followed above your belly button until he was pushing your skirt hem upward. He eyed your most precious asset and attacked it with his tongue.

Your gasp hissed throughout the chamber on contact. The sounds of Sebastian’s tongue immersed in your folds was music to your ears as he hummed a moan into your flesh. The vibration made you buck your hips forward.

His tongue swiped patterns over your clit until you fisted his hair in your hands. You pressed your fingertips into his skull, begging him for more pressure. He obliged, his tongue flattening and flicking against your clit until you were moaning repeatedly.

His lips enclosed your clit and he sucked against it, the sound drawing scowls from the portrait paintings on the walls.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed, your eyelids heavy as you gazed at the erotic vision between your legs.

Sebastian sucked harder, the tip of his tongue pressed against your clit until your thighs twitched in his hands. You were afraid to know what it’d be like to fall apart on Sebastian’s tongue – not because you were embarrassed or self-conscious, but because you knew it would ruin you for life.

And when it finally started, the sweet sensation shooting through your nerve endings in the form of a convulsion across your cunt, you forced your hips forward as Sebastian’s tongue danced against your clit. Your shaking thighs clamped either side of his head and he groaned at the surge of wet arousal that surfaced from your entrance. His tongue glided inside you to collect the reward of your climax.

As you recovered, your chest rising and falling while you caught your breath, Sebastian kissed both of your thighs and stood, smirking at you with sensual eyes as he returned to his standing position between your legs.

You realized the top of your thigh was wet from the tip of his cock. You took it in your hand and stroked, your thumb appreciating the sensation of its velvet head. Your core began to throb with desire for it.

“I need you. Now,” you whispered. You didn’t need to ask twice.

Sebastian lined the tip of his cock against your entrance and took a moment to behold the sight. He decided he’d burn the entire castle down if he were to wake up and learn this was merely another dream.

But the feeling of your slick, warm arousal coating the head of his cock was far too real. He moaned at the sight of himself disappearing inside your entrance. He sank further into you while you held your breath at the size of him.

“Relax,” Sebastian said gently. “I’ve got you.”

You nodded silently and exhaled, willing the tension to vacate your body. Sebastian continued to ease himself inside of you, his jaw clenched at the sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate him.

“My god,” Sebastian groaned as his gaze drifted downward to where you were joined. You bucked your hips to indicate your readiness.

Sebastian pushed his hips forward, his cock parting your walls again. You moaned at the pressure mounting within your core.

His cock drove steady strokes against your walls as his hands gripped the tops of your thighs. You whined for more, your hips rocking forward as the desk creaked beneath you.

You clutched Sebastian’s shoulders to pull him closer. He snapped his hips harder, the sounds of his thrusts growing louder as they became more erratic.

Your legs clenched around his torso tightly, willing him to drive deeper inside you. You could feel the smoldering climax searing hotter within your twitching walls. When it finally began, your tight cunt released, pumping pleasure through your walls while you cried out.

Your nails sank into Sebastian’s shoulder blades, leaving sharp crescent divots in his skin. Sebastian’s cock pumped you through your orgasm until your twitching cunt was spent.

Sebastian’s hands drifted to your back, a flick of his fingers snapping your bra apart. He flung it onto the floor behind himself and buried himself inside you again.

He kissed you hard, easing you backward until you were lying flat on your back. He couldn’t help himself from roaming his hands over your body, cupping and squeezing your breasts as he slammed into you. You moaned as he gripped your hips, pulling you into him as he fucked you.

“Oh my god,” he moaned. The sight of you, splayed out flat on your back, breasts bouncing with each thrust, was better than any vision his head could conjure.

The smacking of your bodies chorused across the chamber, your whimpered moans growing louder in rhythm with them. The delicious incline to another peak was mounting in your core, bringing you so close to the edge of ecstasy.

Sebastian reached down to drag a thumb over your clit, nudging you to the climactic cliff. The sound you released was anything but subdued; an unrestrained wail as your walls convulsed around Sebastian’s driving cock, sending your back into an arch as you clamped your eyes shut.

The aftermath was more than Sebastian could handle; your heaving chest panting for air; your heavy eyes dark with satisfaction; your arousal slowly dripping onto the desktop.

Sebastian thrusted hard until his cock was fully enveloped in your warmth again, his tip buried deep within your plush walls. He grunted as he held you against himself, his cock throbbing with his own climax until he painted your core with his release.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned once it was over.

He slumped forward. It felt as if his frame might collapse amid its boneless state. Beneath him, you were grateful for the desk keeping you off the ground.

Once you felt lucid enough to move again, you sat up slowly. Sebastian dipped his head to rest his chin against your forehead as you both recovered in silence. He didn’t want to part from you, so he remained still, savoring your warmth as he draped his arms around you.

“You really didn’t think I was in love with you?” you murmured softly against his chest.

“You really didn’t realize I was in love with you?” he mused.

“We really do owe Anne and Ominis an apology,” you laughed softly. “Or a thank-you.”

The door suddenly creaked open and the sound of hurried footsteps stopped with a sharp halt. Anne stood in the doorway, her face twisted in an expression of horror as Ominis stood behind her, unaware of the sight before them.

Sebastian winced at the intrusion. “We should probably start with an apology.”

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