Mutual Pleasures
pairing(s): Sebastian Sallow x Reader
words: 5.2k
summary: After spotting Sebastian Sallow being a little too friendly at a party, you can't help, but teach him a lesson in the Room of Requirement, but what starts as a punishment quickly turns into a mutual suffering, and neither of you makes it out untouched.
warnings: contains nudity, sexual themes and mature content that is not advised for younger viewers. descriptive smut. mutual masturbation. bratty mc. idiots in love. all characters are aged up!
a/n: you could also find this AO3 too.
dedicated to @dianamagritte for the boosts of all this. and the discord feral animals. (you know who you are). If you want to be part of it, don't hesistate. Here.
The music had been loud. Too loud. It was the kind of celebration that was only enjoyable if you were a) A Ravenclaw who just won a Quidditch game, or b) You were drunk as shit to dance off to anything in sight.
You blinked twice, keeping a steady balance against a nearby bookshelf. Ravenclaw's Commons were filled with loads of them, but you tended to the nearest one.
You weren't technically drunk. Tipsy? Possibly, but not drunk enough to feel the crowded room going bonkers, or the thick perfume roaming through your nostrils with sweat — or even an occasional herb stash swifting in the air.
The Firewhisky became a stand-in around your hands. Most likely warm by now. It no longer lingered on your mouth.
In fact, nothing in the common room roamed enough to get your attention.
Except for one thing.
The burning sensation in your chest rumbled over the night from the sight. Blaming the Firewhisky was easier than admitting jealousy.
— Jealousy.
No, it wasn't jealousy.
Not at all.
But you watched Sebastian Sallow across the room.
He stood opposite your position. Only eyes of a hawk could distinguish someone like him in a far angle filled with drunk people in between, but he was there, distracted.
And you watched, unwillingly.
The fireplace near him was enough to make his brown eyes gloss over the presence beside him.
A laugh escaped him too. Not a polite one either — one where his tiredness of drinking a little too much would make the corner of his mouth split more as he tried to catch a breath for himself.
The presence, to his left, stood Lenora Everleigh. Hufflepuff. Book-smart. Pretty, but known to trick her way into the Quidditch players, no matter what house.
A reputation builder.
She was drunk too, but not enough to plot intentions on him. A laugh also escaped her, but it extended by raising her arm enough to touch Sebastian's shoulder; a first touch. A sign for the night.
He didn't pull away.
And you watched.
Again, that burning sensation in your chest rose. It now slid upward to your throat, making you feel scratchy and look away.
No, not jealousy. It wasn't. You denied yourself.
Why? Because there was no label. No factual relationship between you and the Sallow man.
It was a routine, though.
House parties meant sneaking off occasionally with Sebastian Sallow. First, the drinks, then the laughs, then the stupid games, and finally, the signal on who wanted to sneak off first.
It wasn't until he had you pinned above a headboard in a random bed, crumbling you with every inch of himself past the AM. The sound of sex and distant music of the party blending into a melody.
The first time had been an accident. You two were inseparable since the fifth year. Figured since you saw each other's worst, why not test things? From new spells, to new potions, and then to new positions.
It was a blur though. A thing you two wouldn't bring up in daylight, but when the sun settled and there was a Quidditch game or celebration, it was something to look forward to.
Yet, despite no serious talk about what you two were — it bothered you how friendly he'd become afterward.
"Oh, Sebastian, you're so funny," Lenora's voice was low, but enough for your ears to catch the purposeful girly-giggle.
Sebastian moved like a dog beside her. Allowing the Hufflepuff inch closer to him each minute that passed.
Him allowing it.
Your jaw clenched, looking down with a frown. It was denial. Jealousy shouldn't exist.
You already had a reputation of a star. Pretty. Ancient Magic. Smart. According to Sebastian Sallow, gave the best sex ever. Any man in the room wouldn't hesitate to kiss you or talk with you right now.
Make him jealous. The conscious said. Grab Northcott's Gryffindor jersey in the middle of the common and — No. It wasn't you.
Showing jealousy back purposely only made you prove a point to him, if it was his intention.
"Lenora, I admit you got me there, but—"
You downed the rest of the leftover Firewhisky in your cup before you could hear him finish another sentence.
Yeah, the lukewarm drink you'd been babysitting all night. You let it slide into your system before slamming the cup down beside the bookshelf and exiting the common room.
The Room of Requirement was empty, as always at these hours.
Everyone had been too busy with their mixed drinks or their tongues down someone else's toxic throat to even reach here.
But not you.
You stood there, mid-room, fingers tingling and teeth scratching together as you eyed absolutely nothing, but felt something.
Anger. Annoyance.
Not from jealousy, but from yourself.
A blend of a chuckle and a scoff escaped as you spoke to yourself under the roof. "He's not even mine."
It was ridiculous. To feel this way. To even think for once that Sebastian Sallow belonged to you.
But he did. Right? He's wrecked you. Taught you. Nearly had him walking like a dog behind you since the fifth year, but still, you doubt his feelings. Yourself.
Sebastian entered the Room of Requirement fifteen minutes later.
You didn't bother. It was his place too.
A few fucks here and there, but instead of jumping straight in, he found you changing the ambiance of the room, completely ignoring his entrance.
You heard a sigh radiate from him. If you'd known him well enough by now, he had likely crossed his arms over his Slytherin jersey, enough to see his biceps to confront you.
"What's wrong?"
You didn't turn. He was attractive. You would've fallen for it.
The wand in your hand kept flicking lazily, trying to change a picture in a frame for the fifth time as you ignored.
"You're avoiding me." He noticed over the silence.
"Am I?" Your attitude came thick.
Sebastian wasn't surprised. It's what he loved about you. You never held back expressing your annoyance over something. The words that came out of your mouth were harsh, but true.
He loved a chase.
"I saw you leave."
"Really?" You kept your focus on the stupid painting of an old man with a cane. "It looked like you were busy. Didn't want to bother."
Sebastian chuckled loudly. Enough for you to hear. His head tilted forward a little, and he looked to the side, almost expressing a 'how ridiculous' the accusation was.
"Look, we know how Lenora is and—"
An eye twitch, and you turned quickly, letting the frame fall to the floor from your speed.
Your plan was to give him attitude, but it was difficult when Sebastian stood feet away from you, arms crossed and eyes softened to admit his reasonings.
His brown hairs curled over his head, and the freckles in his face vibrated more from the new ambient lighting you tricked on the room.
Your mind played games. Cruel little fantasies watching him right now.
Painting the way his jersey would slide off. How his breath would hitch as you sank down on him, not fully, enough to edge him on that sofa. All nails and bruises and curses. Edging him so fucking bad until he begged. Until he learned his lesson.
But he doesn't deserve my body tonight.
Not after everything he made you feel over the past hour.
"You don't owe me an explanation on your next bedding, Sallow."
Sebastian's tongue curled. Right above his lips like a joke. Then curved down to his cheek as a way to hide another smirk. "What are you talking about? Seriously."
"Please." You scoffed to the side. "Don't act oblivious. I'm talking about Lenora acting like a bloody schoolgirl while pawing all over you minutes ago."
Eye-contact avoidance was your best friend. You'd known how manipulative his eyes were. Someone like a Sallow never held back their heavy persona.
Manipulative, egoistic, smart, and an attractive asshole. God, it bothered you. Sexily.
His thick brows rose in disbelief. Like a disappointed father and his mouth gaped slightly. "No,"
"And for what it's worth," You inserted more attitude into the truth. "If you were unlocking some sort of jealousy or end of whatever we had, then congratulations."
"I wasn't doing anything—"
"You were doing enough."
"Damn it!" He huffed. "She dragged me. I didn't even—Merlin, I was looking for you all night."
You laughed. A false laugh. "I saw everything."
Sebastian stayed silent. Not because he was lost on what to say. He knew his truth, but he was gathering how bratty you've become overnight. He didn't complain, but he read you like a book.
He knew where you liked to be kissed. The spots that made you squirm. Fast or rough? He knew the speed to go when you were close to orgasm. He knew when you faked it.
He knew all of you.
"If you want to fuck someone new, Sebastian, you can." You murmured, but with force. "I'm not stopping you."
"I only want to fuck you."
His words came out raw. There was a motion of tone where you could hear the crack in how he shifted from telling his truth to basically moaning it in a yearn.
—I only want to fuck you.
There was that same friction in your throat from his impulsive truth. In a way, it was your body and desire fighting each other to either cling yourself on him or stay away, keeping the edge.
Your heart — it skipped higher and both of your mouths opened a little. An indication that you really wanted to close the gap.
Lenora's hand rubbing his shoulder.
Damn it.
The skirt you wore hitched slightly as you turned around from him. No, you weren't going to continue to act oblivious about changing the ambiance.
You wanted him, but you didn't.
It would've been too easy on him.
Your steps were loud over the floorboards of the Room of Requirement as you walked over the other side of the space. More likely, the bed you conjured in the past. To lie for a nap after class and battles, or sometimes... sometimes tangle on the sheets with the very same person that was making you lose your mind this instance.
"Silent treatment isn't going to solve things," Sebastian said out loud, but it was obvious the man was going to follow right behind slowly, but purposely.
You took a deep sigh, ignoring him. Your eyes kept a close as you sensed him from afar, but stood still before your next actions.
Then you moved.
Your fingers hooked into the hem of the white collar shirt you wore for the evening. It'd been hot, probably from that Firewhisky you consumed last minute. It lifted over your head fast before you were left with only nothing on your top.
Your breast hung loosely on yourself.
How scandalous. A woman like you not wearing undergarments beneath your clothes — but it was accustomed now. If you'd known someone of the last name Sallow would rip your clothes apart past midnight, why waste time removing layers?
And Sebastian Sallow surely knew that.
He stood in the doorframe of the far end space, watching you. That little teasing argumentative talk from earlier between you two became dust to him when his jaw clenched at your actions.
Only the bare skin of your back was in his view. Yet, Sebastian never denied the dying need to admire someone like you. The Ancient Magic witch of Hogwarts. Even with every sight of skin he saw of you, whether it was ankles or shoulders, he had to jack it off that night in his baths.
You were just irritatingly compelling.
Both of you knew that.
Sebastian took a step forward, taking it as a sign that perhaps you'd change your mind. Lust had won over brattiness. You wanted him like he wanted you at the end of the night.
His cock was lifting right over his pants as he took the first step before you stopped him with your ancient magic.
A layered wall of sparkling blue hues blocked his access to get any closer to you, and you turned around. "No, Sallow. You aren't allowed in my personal space."
He panted on himself, feeling off guard for the first time by you. His head and eyes tried to concentrate on your words, but for a man, standing right in front of a witch with her breasts right at his sight — holy shit. He was really getting punished.
You gave a lovely smirk, looking to the side. Worse, as you mocked the same moves Sallow pulled on you earlier, and rolled your filthy little tongue around your cheek as you stared at him.
"What? You thought we were going to have sex?"
"—Aren't we?" Sebastian couldn't resist. The Adam's apple bobbed along his throat, and even his hands became fists from the urge.
The boner battled over the thin fabric of his sports pants from looking at your upper body. He had to reach down between his legs and pretend to adjust his belt, when in reality, he was flicking his hard-on, wanting to tuck it in to hide his arousal from your body.
It was hard for you too. Your urge, at least.
This wasn't you. Bratty? Possibly. Sebastian adored the stubbornness you brought since the fifth year, but swiping off your awkward shyness and leveling your braveness to show him what he could lose? Rare.
"No," You didn't hesitate to unbutton your skirt now, sliding it down your thighs and pooling it around your ankles. You stepped out of it and stood tall, completely naked, as you crossed your arms and shrugged at him. "You are on a time-out."
"What?"
Sebastian became tongueless over the entire show you'd given him. He wasn't even touching you, yet watching you strip right across the bedroom with no permission; it riled him up like an animal unable to catch its prey.
Outside, you were confident, teasing, and even a bit dominant over your actions. Something none of you would have expected.
Inside, you were trembling, nervous, and embarrassed.
Naked in front of Sebastian wasn't anything new. Usually, he explored every inch of your body in the dark, but it was always a rush, and the sex came after. Now, you allowed him to take time to see you. All of you. Without moving.
Your weight rested on the king-sized bed. You felt the cold sheets touch your skin as you let yourself lie down, pretending as if Sebastian was non-existent, and took a small breath, staring at the ceiling.
Sebastian, he was in an eternal suffrage. Constantly cursing a 'what the actual fuck?' in his brain. Watching you do an absolutely normal action, naked, in front of him, and letting him pulsate.
He wanted you. Always did. And tonight, watching you pull whatever you were pulling only made him weaken. Fight. He wanted to walk between that fucking ancient magic barrier you created and slide inside of you.
"Merlin," Sebastian tensed, watching you lie down on that bed exposed. "Please..." he brought an arm upward, resting it on the doorframe of the conjured bedroom, and his fingers gripped it tightly to hold himself together. "You're playing dirty."
"Not really," You said, a honey-sweet tone coming out of you. "I'm allowing you to watch me, aren't I? I didn't kick you out, but the door is there—"
"No." Sebastian denied an exit.
His eyes followed your nakedness. Your skin glowed like a goddess. For him, you seemed like a light glowing on the entire Room of Requirement, and he wasn't ready to just storm out to finish a jacking session in his pants from arousal.
"You're stretching this," He said again, mad.
It was boiling him, physically burning him, to not be able to access you.
"You don't get to touch me tonight, Sebastian." You warned, turning your head at him from the door. "But you do get to see everything you gave up for a laugh and smile with Lenora Everleigh."
Sebastian breathed through his nose, and even if it was low, you heard it. It was frustrating him, but also turning him on.
His eyes dragged down your eyes. They pounced at you like a ghost; you wanted to give up. They went down your collarbones, down your chest, over your curves, and into your opening as you rubbed your thighs enough to cover it.
Covering it because deep down, despite a drag, Sebastian looked awfully good in a blocked state across the room. Sweating, frustrated, and scoffing — Merlin, you were drenched too.
"This is torture." Sebastian rasped. "The wall is unnecessary."
Your gaze flicked at him lazily, a few of your hairs bouncing to your face from how fast you'll turn in the bed. As if you weren't unraveling a new view for him from your exposed body. "Is it? You can't touch me. I don't trust you, so,"
His hand twitched. His cock did too.
Sebastian wasn't leaving. Not like this. Not with you lying naked, thighs slick and pupils watching eagerly at him, knowing exactly what you were doing.
If he couldn't be inside of you tonight, he was going to finish the next closest way possible — with you in his sight.
As said, he knew you too.
You certainly couldn't resist him, despite how bratty and monstrous you acted tonight. He knew you.
"You could always leave," You suggested at his ache. He was right, you were playing extremely, humiliatingly dirty, but it felt like a test. "Perhaps, if you're so frustrated you can't have me, then maybe-"
"You're wrong." Sebastian scoffed in disbelief, disrupting you.
You'd been shocked at his answer. Again, your body deliberately moved to the side, giving him a better view as you watched him.
You looked down.
It was there. The pressure in his pants. A hard, pulsing throb that he could no longer hide with a tuck-in. It wasn't arousal; it was frustration. Heat. Arrogance. Need.
Sebastian's cock outlined against the front of his pants. If your vision were high, you would see the hint of leaked pre-cum bleeding through them. The tightness was maddening.
You pulsated yourself. Not from the heart, but from arousal. From the body craving. It was nature. You were naked, and he was there — but again, you were playing dirty until the last drop.
"You're hard." You eyed without shyness.
Sebastian didn't say anything at first. He watched how you said your words and then observed your movements. Your body.
The way your thighs slightly shifted as you noticed his outline. How they rubbed subtly, but noticeably for him. You were trying to be discreet, but he knew. He knew.
Your turn, Sallow. He thought to himself.
Sebastian wasn't going to leave. Perhaps, if it had been a test that he was so turned on and aggravated, he'll fuck the first girl he saw back at the party, then you didn't know him well enough.
"Yeah," Sebastian horsed to himself. Slowly, he reached down, removing his hand from the door frame and letting his fingers find the tie of his Quidditch belt, the rough leather worn from the match finally becoming loose.
Then the buttons.
Your jaw made a slight movement when you witnessed Sebastian push down his pants enough to let his cock spring free.
Long, flushed, and already slick at the tip even from the bed. Even from the fucking magical layer you created between you two.
Fuck, fuck....
But you watched. You watched how it curved against his stomach, veins prominent, twitching with every breath you gave. He'd always been thick. Heavy. Merlin, hard.
"This is what you do to me," He said roughly, wrapping his large hand around the base of it — but his eyes were on yours. "Even when you're cruel, or bratty, or...jealous," he hissed. "I'm not leaving."
Your chest raised higher now. Your arms had to go into an 'L' shape to hide away your breasts, to conceal how hard your nipples had become. Or how you had to lie on your back again to close your legs tighter and pretend you weren't throbbing from what he had done.
In the midst of hiding yourself away, with an awful silence that took over, you began to hear it.
The faint sounds.
Rhythmic, wet, slow, and — he was masturbating.
"Seriously," You hitched.
Don't lie to yourself. It's what you wanted. To see how far he'd gotten on how far you had lured him. To see if he would give up and walk away — jerked it off alone, or go to someone else.
But no, he stayed and instead, flipped the subject, balancing out his torture to you. No matter how maddening and insane things have become now.
"Don't fret, sweetheart." His breaths became leveled. Enough to know which second he was going up and down, "—you said I could watch, right? I'm respecting your space."
"You're masturbating."
"I don't recall you saying it wasn't part of the rules." Sebastian fought.
Oh, he was going farther.
You turn again, annoyed, watching him. You avoided eye contact with him, though. Instead, you watched what he did to his body. To himself for comfort and pleasure.
The muscles in his forearms flexed as Sebastian stroked again.
It was a wonder to know how such a heavy length and width of his fitted so perfectly inside of you in the past. How your walls would hug that same skin perfectly inside of you. The same noises, but —
Your fingers grabbed the edge of the blanket, squeezing a few sheets in your fists instead of reaching down to yourself and doing the same thing.
You've done it before. In the baths late at night. In secluded areas. And most of the time, when it came to arousing yourself alone, your last thought was him. Sebastian Sallow. Always him.
"You want to touch yourself, don't you?" His voice was heavy. It was strained from how far he was surviving not finishing on your resistance, but teasing. "You're fighting it hard, but I could see your thighs rubbing over each other, you know? I suppose that indicates something you don't want to admit?"
You were flushed. You didn't deny because it was the bloody truth. It turned you on. A lot. Too much it was frustrating you.
Frustrating because what was supposed to be such a small punishment for the Sallow man became a punishment for yourself. A stubborn personality could only get you so far.
"Go on," Sebastian's voice panted in your ears. You weren't looking at him. You had to stare at the ceiling to avoid danger, but he haunted over that layer of wall. "...I won't judge you for touching yourself. I don't deserve your body tonight, but you need a pleasure, darling, even if it isn't from me."
But it was him. Even if your fingers rubbed between your clit in slow, aching spirals and entered your body over nights, it was him on your mind. He mentally fucked you plenty of times already.
He fucked you in memories. In fantasies.
Now, he was about to do it through a barrier of your ancient magic that YOU created.
"N-No," You sweated. "It—It wouldn't be a punishment then,"
"Oh, please," Sebastian panted back. The once brown curls over his forehead became dampened from how hard he was battling a finish. He was extending it. He had hope. "...it's a damn punishment enough with this fucking wall between us. My hand could only do so much. I'm—shit—losing at the end."
You did it.
Because despite a stupid jealousy time-out and punishment, at the end of the night, regardless of no sex, you two would get a pleasure. Right?
You didn't look at him when you did it.
When your hand slid down your stomach, slowly and shakingly, not from shame, but from the restraint finally cracking. Your small fingers dipped between your legs, following the same routine you usually did; you were wet, and you heard it. He heard it.
Sebastian gasp.
No cum. Not yet. Please, not yet. He begged himself.
He'd practiced enough throughout the years to last a little longer each time, but when it came with you — it was like a battle of 50/50.
Watching you spread over the bed like a temptation. Like in his dreams. In his masturbation desires. Now, it was a real thing, and he was feet away with a wall, fighting himself over his hands.
He admired you. Not only from personality, but from your ways of moving. From talking. From watching your body roll a little at your own touch. Chest heaving with every breath on whatever went through your head from having you riled up. He hoped it was him.
"...fuck," Sebastian said in a short breath.
His voice wasn't helpful. Not hearing it widely in the space now. He held a thick tone enough to make you want to do unspeakable things to yourself in that very bed.
You bit your lip, wanting to fight Sebastian's own breaths and pants from the doorframe. You were afraid that if you turned, you'll want to go crazy.
Over a moment, your own name slipped out of his mouth from watching you — choked and wrecked. And that made you clench hard over yourself that you had to arch your back in that very bed.
Your first moan came unplanned. It was predicted, but when you heard him yearn your own call, you couldn't help but bite your lip as the pleasure slipped out. Louder than previous times.
It was hard. Extremely hard. All of this.
Your fingers could only do so much. They weren't as long as Sebastian's. They weren't as thick as his; fingers and cock. There was only so much you could fantasize in your head with the melody of his voice, but it wasn't. Especially when he was right on sight.
The same spiraling motions continued over your clit, but over the rubbing, you decided to turn your head once, over the reasoning for your pleasure.
Big mistake.
Sebastian was losing it. His mouth was shining from the number of times he'd licked his lips for distraction. His hairs dangling with a wetness, and his cockwas still springing over a pre-cum mess. His hand must've been sticky.
He looked hot. Alluring.
It was over for you.
With pleasure, you lost control, weakening your sense and letting the magical wall you created with your ancient magic vanish.
The barrier fell. Not for you, but for Sebastian too.
And the craziest thing of all is that, despite who wanted this more — neither of you reached a finish because somehow, one or the other had hope the night would finish inside of each other.
Time didn't allow you to even stop Sebastian. The moment the wall vanished, it became an indicator to Sebastian that either a) you wanted him or b) you pretended not to want him for a finish, but you really did.
Sebastian didn't hesitate. The second that wall evaporated out of your force, he was on you. Quick.
He moved fast, crossing the room in two feral steps and hovering over the foot of the bed you lay in breathlessly. His hands gripped the frames, almost waiting for you to give him a stop.
Your eyes were an answer. You didn't have to say anything. Sebastian knew that once you gave him the eyes, the same eyes you'll signal at every celebration, it meant a go. An entrance. A consent.
"Fuck this," Sebastian didn't even let you eye him enough for an answer before he clamped his sticky hand around your ankle and dragged your body to the edge of the bed so fast, the sheets beneath you tangled. "Come here."
You barely had enough time to even think of a proper thought before his other free hand was on your thigh, spreading it as wide as possible in a rough manner before pressing himself between them.
His cock slapped over you, hard, pink as ever, and slippery from his masturbation. You only had enough seconds to admire it before he slipped it over your folds and plunged himself inside of you like a leech.
"Oh," You moaned as he slammed into you. It was a brutal thrust, a burial to let you know that it wasn't fair. It had knocked the air straight out of you. "S-Sebastian—"
Sebastian rocked into you on the bed, "Quite a show you gave tonight," he hissed, sliding out and in again, roughly. "—enjoying yourself watching me fall apart."
You couldn't speak. Your hands raised, clawing into his hairs and clamping them for control. And if you did speak, it was from heavy moans and breaths.
"Next time you're jealous," Sebastian's mouth bit over your shoulders for a tease, and then his eyes were barely seen as his thrusts were ruthless. "...just say it."
You clenched your walls tighter as Sebastian's tongue slid along your shoulder and then slid up to your neck before sucking in and creating a love mark.
He was hard and punishing that some of the blankets were falling to the floor. Sebastian made sure he made up for every bloody second he wasn't allowed inside of you in those torturous twenty minutes.
"You think I want—to be—with," His hand slipped up your thigh, gripping you tighter and pushing it open even wider to drive deeper. "—anyone else?"
You whined. You even forgot about the Lenora situation. He was fucking you so well and deep, nothing even mattered anymore.
"I only want to be with you," He grunted. "...and I only want you to be with," he drilled, placing his lips over yours as they brushed over each other. "-me."
And he kissed you.
Kissing was subtle during your past sessions. You both had taken advice from other people who slept with others and said kissing was overrated and too romantic. You didn't kiss much.
But, hell, when Sebastian's lips reached yours in that bed. It was passionate and romantic — it wasn't another fuck. It was love-making. A mark for territory.
"Be—Be my girlfriend," Sebastian said between his hip movements. His thrust became slower from his proposal as he watched you and gazed at your lips.
"S-Sebastian,"
"Accept it, or I'll edge you next," Sebastian chuckled cockily, his cock sliding out of you. Only enough for his tip to stay pulsating on your entrance. "—worse than you did to me."
Oh, he was wild and right. You were about to reach a finish.
"We'll avoid whatever happened tonight and—"
"Fuck, yes," You moaned in frustration, locking your legs around his to pin him back to you. "Yes...yes, I'll be your girlfriend—"
You were close. Too close.
It was tense. The finish. The moans. The whimpers. They come mostly from him. Sebastian had suffered the most tonight, but after a messy finish, only sweaty bodies and heavy breaths echoed in the Room of Requirement. More than any other night.
He had ruined you, once again. But now as a boyfriend.
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