AurorSrag

She || 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ || Fanfiction writer || Currently accepting requests || Hogwarts is my home || Professionally a Dentist🦷 || MDNI 🔞

[sevprince-91]

Hello everyone ❤️❤️❤️

I am a fanfiction writer and an avid reader as well. Feel free to browse through my works below 👇🏽

Adult Content always | MDNI ⛔🙅🏽‍♀️🔞

Also I take requests for the following characters only :

Severus Snape

Draco Malfoy

Sebastian Sallow

Leander Prewett

Garreth Weasley

Ominis Gaunt

I take time to write things and I have every right to deny the requests if I think I cannot write them or they are beyond my comprehension or are very much inappropriate.

Smut requests are welcome

!!!But no cheating or extra marital affair. I simply hate them!!!!

MASTERLISTS

👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽

My Arts :

Young Severus and his cat

Sebastian Sallow

Professor Snape

Ominis Gaunt

Garreth Weasley

Elrond

Masterlist for Severus Snape

No Greater Magic Than Love ( ♀️ Rosa Diaz, my OC) [WATTPAD]

Your Voice (♀️ Jean, my OC)

Sirius Vs. Severus at Grimmauld Place (a remake of the OOTP scene with my OC Rosa Diaz)

Under the Desk (Snape x reader)

🐲🐲🐲

Masterlist for Draco Malfoy

Take My Hand (DM X Florence Macnair, my OC) (Wattpad)

🐍🐍🐍

Masterlist for Sebastian Sallow

Save Him (Seb x f! MC)

Meeting the Sallows (Seb x f! MC)

You could have died, you know (Seb x f! MC)

Insomnia (Seb x f! MC)

Valentine (Seb x f! MC)

🦁🦁🦁

Masterlist for Leander Prewett

Engagement (Leander X Astrid Cresswell, my OC) series [AO3 link] [Playlist link]

Summoner's Court (Leander X f! MC)

🧡🧡🧡

Masterlist for Garreth Weasley

Dentist Weasley (G X f! MC)

Mind Trap (G X f! MC)

Growing Up (G X f! MC)

Sharing is Caring (Garreth HCs)

A Little Surprise (Garreth X f! MC)

💚💚💚

Masterlist for Ominis Gaunt

Hugs & Confessions (Ominis X f! MC)

To be continued....

[muffeteertale]

Look up your name in the gifs and show the first gif that comes up

@absurdumsid @inka-boi @childofthest4rzz @tobi-draws @largefound

[same-pic-rick-roll]

[renniewolfey]

[walmart-the-official]

Technically the second but the first was the same thing without a caption

[love-skzot8]

what😭😭

np tags:

@theoncelee @onetoomanyfandomfixations @intheticklecloset @katszumi @thelaughtercafe @the-mimicker-bot @the-haiku-bot

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Is this??? My sign to actually watch Assassination Classroom????

@undertaker-02 @i-am-a-fish @anxiousmomfriend @shellstropss @humansarespaceaussies @hazelfoureyes @hazbinshusk

[hazelfoureyes]

🥺 too wholesome 😂 the second one was two people making out 👌🏼

@fraugwinska @synamartia @sugoi-writes @minkdelovely

[nyx91]

No pressure tags: @redfoxwritesstuff @impulsivethoughtsat2am @blobin456drawz @lunarmango @petrichorvzlia-blog @wendigonamecaller @redvexillum @sarcastic-snapdragons-blog @feral-fox-crypt @aesthetic-trash666 @legacyshenanigans @nox-ceur @sevprince-91 @trulyblockedout @littlestw01f

And anyone else who wants to join in 🤣💜

[sevprince-91]

Idk what it means but this series is my fav and the character is 💜💜💜💜

[sevprince-91]

Hey! It’s been a while. Just checking in. You doing alright friend?

Thanks for asking.

I am okay

Just life is taking me away from this world to the real one.

But i am glad someone remembered me

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Okie I sent you a request earlier today about a possible fic around MC ‘coaching’ Seb (lol). But I thought of another one. Same vibe between the two (besties that just wanna love and fuck each other) and same setting, just them two, maybe they’re a little tipsy or more open for some reason. in conversation she reveals that she’s convinced she can’t cum. No other guy has ever managed and neither has she. She enjoys sex but just doesn’t think THAT will ever happen. And Seb just blurts out that he bet he could. Smug bastard. It becomes a whole thing, she’s like you’re insane, but is convinced… and he does.

Also shared with Applin by the way. You two are just amazing!

Oh hey there. 😏 Buckle up because we've got another multi-part series here. Enjoy Part I of two.

Just Once

Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit/MDNI (smut, language); all characters are 18+ Words: ~5,800 Tags: friends with benefits, friends to lovers, mutual pining, smut, sexual exploration

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

“Happy birthday, darling.”

You stifled an amused snort as Sebastian Sallow presented you with a poorly wrapped package. The faded brown paper was clinging for dear life and a green bow had been slapped precariously on top. It was clearly a glass bottle of something Professor Weasley would love to confiscate. You narrowed your eyes at it.

“This isn’t one of Garreth’s concoctions, is it?” you asked warily.

“Nope, nothing but pure, 100% firewhiskey,” Sebastian quipped. He plucked the package from your hand and unwrapped it. You watched him uncork the bottle and take a long swig. “See? No poison or wayward potions here.”

“Did you just buy me that so I’d share it with you?” you mused. Sebastian shrugged and took another drink before returning the bottle to your hand. 

“Nothing wrong with a birthday gift that benefits us both,” he offered. You rolled your eyes and took a drink. The liquid burned all the way down, blooming spiced heat through your throat. It was a welcome distraction.

You hated your birthday. Orphaned since birth, you hadn’t received many annual celebrations. Some years, you forgot about it entirely. It wasn’t until your sixteenth birthday, the first one you’d spent at Hogwarts, that anyone cared to celebrate with you. You were always grateful for your friends for that.

Still, turning eighteen twisted a knot in your gut. You were an official adult now, meaning you’d be expected to live like one. Your Hogwarts days were trickling to an end, with graduation just weeks away. You’d already lined up a job as an auror in training with the Ministry of Magic. You were set to move to London and share a flat with Imelda Reyes. Your plans were all set in place. Adulthood was just around the corner, and on paper, you were prepared. But inside, terror twisted in your chest and turned your stomach.

You drank until the bottle’s neck was empty. 

“Thanks for this,” you said, raising the bottle toward Sebastian. He offered you his signature lopsided grin. 

“Not every day my best friend turns eighteen,” he said. 

“Don’t remind me,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, come on, it’s not so bad,” Sebastian said. “I turned eighteen last month and haven’t turned into a stuffy adult yet.”

“That’s because you spent your eighteenth birthday piss drunk until you ended up in bed with Violet McDowell.”

“Best birthday I ever had.”

You snorted and took another swig.

“Speaking of piss-drunk debauchery, where’s that boyfriend of yours?” Sebastian asked. 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you groaned. It felt like the firewhiskey was already surging to your brain, though talking about your love life – or lack thereof – was enough to make you feel drunk and disheveled.

“Fine, fine. Where’s that bloke you’ve been messing around with?” Sebastian continued.

“He’s spending the weekend with his family.”

“And he’s missing your birthday?” Sebastian tutted. 

“He’s not my boyfriend, Sebastian,” you repeated, your tone edging with warning. “I don’t expect him to celebrate my birthday. We’re just friends.”

“Friends,” Sebastian repeated. “Right.”

“What’s wrong with that?” you demanded with narrowed eyes. You wanted to claw the smirk off his face. Or kiss it.

“Nothing,” Sebastian shrugged innocently. “Just thought Northcott would try a little harder to lock you down now that you’re an adult and all.”

“What on Earth does that have to do with anything?” you snorted.

“We’re all graduating soon. People are starting to pair off,” Sebastian explained. “Everyone else is starting to think of marriage and families and the future.”

“Oh? Who are you proposing marriage to then?” 

“Professor Garlick.”

You snorted into the whiskey bottle. “You wish.”

“That I do.” Sebastian sighed longingly for dramatic effect.

“But really,” you continued. “Who are you courting for forever? Haven’t seen you with anyone since that time I saw you and Charlotte stumbling out of Sharp’s potions cupboard.”

“I said everyone else is starting to pair off,” Sebastian noted. “Not me.”

“Oh, think you’re too good for everyone at Hogwarts?”

“Not at all. To the contrary, I think my reputation has tainted my chances with any ladies here at Hogwarts.”

“And whose fault is that?” you teased.

“Not deflecting any blame,” Sebastian said simply. “I just don’t think any of Hogwarts’ eligible bachelorettes are interested in someone with my track record.”

It was true, Sebastian had developed a reputation for being rather… experienced. Or as Ominis Gaunt put it, Sebastian had “dipped his quill in far too many inkwells.” But it wasn’t because Sebastian wanted to run through every girl at Hogwarts. You’d watched him stumble and fumble his way through attempts at relationships with honest intent. He was simply too messy for most people.

It took a special kind of patience and understanding to maintain any kind of relationship with Sebastian Sallow, be it friendship or something more. The thing about Sebastian was he didn’t always get things right, but he was always sincere. You knew that about him. In fact, you knew most things about him. But Sebastian had never looked at you with the same kind of lust and intrigue he’d looked at other girls. You were his best friend and confidant, the keeper of his deepest secrets, not his deepest desires. 

You’d accepted that ages ago, but every now and then, you couldn’t help but eye your best friend with a wistful kind of melancholy. Just once, you wished he’d see you as a woman rather than an anchor. Sure, you loved being his safe space, but you also wanted him to feel the dirty draw of sinful desire when he looked at you. Just once.

“Well, maybe someday the great Sebastian Sallow will find a woman willing to tolerate his antics,” you finally teased. Sebastian plucked the whiskey bottle from your fingers and took a drink. 

“Maybe someday,” he said simply. Silence settled between you, a cozy kind of quiet that often indicated you were both mulling over some thought you were reluctant to share. It was rare – you and Sebastian spilled nearly every thought that came to mind – but sometimes you enjoyed the intrigue of withholding from him. 

“Can you imagine us, married?” you wondered aloud. “I mean, not to each other, of course, but in general- to other people.”

Your face flushed and you cursed yourself for being stupid enough to bring up the topic of marriage in the presence of Sebastian when alcohol was currently coursing through your system.

Sebastian grinned at you. “What, don’t think I’d be husband material?” he quipped. 

“I think I’d end up hexing you before we even reached the altar,” you shot back. 

“Oh, interesting. I’d love to honeymoon while covered in bruises and boils.”

“Keep talking and maybe you will.”

“Yeah? And where would you like to honeymoon, dear?”

“Someplace warm and romantic.”

“How whimsy. Tell Northcott to pack swimwear.”

You elbowed Sebastian in the side in annoyance. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Ow! Alright, fine. He’s not your boyfriend. No need for violence.”

“No need to be so daft.”

“Merlin, adulthood makes you awfully mean,” Sebastian whined. You scowled at him and he chuckled. “I suppose it’s my own fault for giving you firewhiskey.”

“You trying to get me drunk?”

“I don’t need to try.”

“Touche.” You raised the bottle again and chugged until your cheeks burned. The boathouse fell quiet again, the sound of the lake’s surface gently lapping against the docks as a pair of boats bobbed in the water.

“Didn’t you have plans tonight?” you finally asked. “I thought most everyone was going to the Three Broomsticks.”

“They were,” Sebastian sighed. “And I was supposed to bring you there as a surprise.”

“Surprise?”

“Poppy and Imelda wanted to surprise you with a cake or something.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed pretty intent on staying here,” Sebastian shrugged. “But I’m sure everyone’s still there if you want to head into the village.”

“No.” You shook your head. The liquor had seeped into your bloodstream and the notion of walking, or even standing, seemed overwhelming. Truthfully, you had no interest in singing or cake. You were happiest sitting in quiet seclusion with Sebastian. “You can blame me when Imelda inevitably tries to take your head off. Tell her the truth – I drank too much and didn’t make it outside the castle.”

“Whatever you say, birthday girl.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you continued. “Didn’t you have plans tonight?”

Sebastian shrugged a shoulder. “Not really. It’s your birthday. My only plan was you.”

“Oh. I thought I overheard Nerida saying the two of you were meeting up.”

“Nerida says a lot of things,” Sebastian muttered. You watched him take a long drink from the bottle. 

“Oh, come on. She’s not so bad,” you giggled. “If you can get past the fascination with merpeople, she’s pretty nice.”

“Fascination?” Sebastian snorted. “It’s much worse than that. She once tried to hook up with me near the far window in the Common Room, said it would feel like she’s underwater. Normally that might be kind of hot, but she clearly wanted to do some kind of merperson roleplay.”

You choked on your latest sip of firewhiskey and began to laugh until you hiccuped. It was a deep, belly laugh that echoed through the boathouse. 

“Merlin,” you giggled. “Did she want you to talk dirty to her in Mermish too?”

“It’s not funny,” Sebastian chided, though you could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Oh, Sebastian!” you teased in a breathy, suggestive tone. “Pin my fins down!”

You erupted with another bout of uncontrollable laughter, so loud Sebastian finally had to clamp a hand over your mouth. 

“Someone’s going to hear you!” he hissed. You pried his hand away and rolled your eyes.

“Who? No one comes down here at night. Unless Nerida’s trying to get you in the water for a rendezvous.” You snorted at your own joke, the firewhiskey making it difficult to keep any composure. “Though from what I remember after helping her during fifth year, she’s not much of a swimmer. Hope you can keep her afloat. Maybe there’s a useful spell for that. Or maybe she’d let you fuck her on the beach over there.” 

Sebastian shot you a deadpan stare as you grinned at him. “Messing around with her in the showers was bad enough,” he said. “She likes the water ice cold.”

You cackled at the confession. It was the only way to reduce the sting of Sebastian fooling around with other girls. “Stop it,” you wheezed, tears welling in your eyes. “You really are her magic merman.”

“Not after that,” Sebastian muttered. “I’d rather not catch pneumonia during sex.”

“Aww, where’s the fun in that, Seb?” you teased. “Too sensitive for a cold shower?”

“More like too sane.”

“Poor Nerida,” you cooed in a taunting tone. “All she wants is a merman to make her happy.”

“Yeah well, it’s not going to be me.”

“It’s not nice to kink shame, Sebastian.”

“You’re the one laughing!”

Your banter sent you into another fit of drunken giggles, leaving you laughing so hard you slumped against Sebastian for support. He shook his head at you, his eyes glinting with fond amusement.

“I suppose it’s fair,” you continued once you caught your breath. “Awfully hard to enjoy any nude activities when you’re numb to the bone. I personally can’t tolerate a shower that’s anything short of damn near scalding.”

“Should’ve guessed a demon from the depths of Hell likes her water hot,” Sebastian muttered, drawing a glare from you. 

“I find it relaxing!”

“Whatever gets you off, darling.”

Perhaps it was the irony of his words. Perhaps – or most certainly – it was the alcohol. Something sent you into your worst fit of giggles yet, laughing controllably until you were flat on your back on the stone floor.

Sebastian blinked downward at you when the outburst finally subsided.

“Nothing gets me off,” you snorted. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

“What on Earth does that mean?” he asked.

“You know what I mean,” you babbled on, still on your back as your gaze met his from the floor. “Like, I can’t do that.” 

“Do what?”

“That. Get off.”

Sebastian stilled. He clearly thought he knew what you were implying, but was afraid to make any assumptions. Sure, the two of you talked about sex, but not like this.

“And by get off, you mean…” he led, hoping you’d finish the sentence.

“During sex,” you said stupidly. “I can’t get off.”

“You can’t… finish?” Sebastian finally managed.

“Exactly.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Sebastian pressed. Had you not been so intoxicated, you might have noticed how alarmed he looked by your revelation.

“I don’t know,” you answered simply. “I just can’t. It physically doesn’t happen.”

“You mean ever? Or recently?”

“Ever. Never ever.”

“Never? What about… you know, when you’re on your own?”

“Nope.” You shook your head and winced as it rocked against the cold, hard ground.

“So let me get this straight,” Sebastian said, straightening in his seated position on the ground, his long legs outstretched. “You’re trying to tell me that you’ve never had an orgasm?”

“Nope.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why the fuck would I lie about that?”

“Because that’s mental!” 

“It’s true!”

“But you… you’ve been with… people.”

“I’m aware of my sexual history, Seb.”

“But… but none of those blokes have… you know…”

“They do. But I don’t. It’s okay, really,” you rattled on. “I just assume my body is incapable or something. Like some kind of defect. But I still enjoy sex.”

Clearly your inhibitions were spent. You’d never have revealed your secret so readily had you been sober. In the morning, you’d be mortified at yourself for revealing such details to Sebastian of all people.

“But what’s the point?” Sebastian blurted out incredulously. You blinked upward at him, utterly confused why he appeared so offended that you were incapable of a climax.

“It’s not a big deal!” you insisted. “Sex can still be fun and enjoyable. It still feels good.”

“But don’t you want to know how it feels to… you know?”

“Well, obviously!” you snorted. “Of course, I would. But if I can’t do it myself – and believe me, I’ve tried – then I can’t expect anyone else to be able to do it either. It’s no one’s fault. The blokes I’ve been with have certainly tried. It just doesn’t work.”

Sebastian’s brain stuttered. He was stunned that you’d never known how it felt to fall apart in such a blissful manner, but he was also furious that any man would allow you to believe it was impossible.

“They must not have tried hard enough,” Sebastian said.

“They have, really,” you said, sitting up on your elbows as you eyed him with amusement. “It’s really no big deal, Seb. No need to get worked up about it.”

“It’s unacceptable!”

You couldn’t help but snort at his insulted demeanor. “Seb, relax,” you laughed. “It’s just an unfortunate fact of life. I can’t get off and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I bet I could do it.”

“Huh?!” You sat up so fast, your head spun. 

“I could do it,” Sebastian repeated so boldly, you began to wonder if someone had placed him under the Imperius Curse. “I could make you… you know.” He swallowed. “I could make you orgasm.”

The boathouse’s cool air no longer felt refreshing against your flushed face. It became heavy and oppressive, suffocating as you searched for something to say.

Instead, you threw your head back and laughed this time, deflecting the need for words. After all, Sebastian had merely been joking, right? And the polite thing to do was to laugh when someone made a joke. Nevermind the fact your head was reeling from the mere thought of Sebastian offering to touch you.

But Sebastian had been quite serious, though he decided to drop the subject the moment you began laughing. He’d play along and pretend it had all been in jest. After all, you were too busy laughing to notice the way his eyes shifted nervously to the ground.

You were also too busy laughing to notice the arrival of Professor Weasley, who promptly scolded you for drinking on school grounds and gave you detention.

—

The following morning, you found yourself spectacularly hungover and embarrassed. You could deal with the first of those dilemmas with some pastries and a pepper-up potion, but the second one could only be resolved by flinging yourself into a stampede of wild hippogriffs.

Instead, you sulked around your dorm room in hopes of avoiding Sebastian until you couldn’t stand the confines of the small space anymore. You slunk into the Slytherin Common Room, where you spotted Sebastian and Ominis chatting in the chairs by the fireplace. 

You swore under your breath and scurried toward the exit. 

“Oi!” 

You swore even louder at the sound of Imelda calling after you. You stopped in your tracks and sighed, turning to face her as she approached. 

“Professor Weasley was looking for you,” she said. “Told me to let you know you and Sallow have detention tomorrow evening.”

“Fabulous,” you muttered. Imelda eyed you with a smirk.

“What’d you two do this time? Does it have anything to do with you bailing on your own birthday?” she asked.

“Got a little too drunk in the boathouse,” you answered. Imelda rolled her eyes. 

“You do know you could have done that at the Three Boomsticks without the detention?”

“Ah, but then she wouldn’t have been able to spend some quality time with her best friend.” Sebastian appeared beside you and draped an arm around your shoulders. You inhaled sharply as his fingers played with your hair.

Imelda shook her head and returned to her chess match. 

“Come with me to the Undercroft,” Sebastian said in your ear.

“Seb, I need to study-”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So, in the nearly three years I’ve known you, you’ve never wasted a Saturday with studying. Now let’s go.”

You sighed and followed him quietly to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, your arms folded cautiously across your chest. Sebastian turned around to frown at you when he noticed your silence.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Alright. Just a little hungover.”

“Need a pepper-up?”

“I drank one. Just still a little groggy, is all.”

As you continued toward the entrance to the Undercroft, he didn’t address the revelation you’d made last night. You prayed he’d been too drunk to remember. 

That prayer was short-lived as you stepped into the Undercroft.

A large mirror was now leaning against the far wall and the sofa you’d conjured your fifth year had been moved in front of it.

“Sebastian…” you started slowly as you eyed the changed room. He didn’t respond. Instead, he led you toward the sofa, where he stood and lingered, his hands stuffed in his pockets. That was when you noticed the tension in his jaw. 

He was nervous, you realized, and you couldn’t help but suspect it had to do with the confession you’d made the previous night.

“Sebastian,” you repeated as you stood behind the sofa, gazing at your own reflection in the mirror. “What is this?”

“I thought about what you said,” Sebastian said in one breath. “That thing you confided. And I meant what I said. I want to help.”

Oh, fuck.

“Seb, that’s… this… you don’t…” You began to wonder if your heart had ascended into your throat. “You don’t need to do that.”

“But would you let me?”

“Huh?”

“Do you… would you let me? Would you let me try?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? I mean, you don’t have to do anything in return. I’d never ask that of you.”

“Oh.”

“Look,” Sebastian sighed as he dragged a hand through his hair. His eyes were very decisively avoiding yours. “I just think… you deserve to know how it feels. And I genuinely think I could help you.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Awfully confident of you to assume that,” you mused.

“Awfully disheartening of you to assume I can’t.”

“I didn’t say that,” you said. “It’s just that it’s never happened before.”

“That’s because you’ve never been with me.”

A flush crept up the back of your neck and you felt faint. But even a situation as awkward as this couldn’t keep you from matching Sebastian blow-for-blow. 

“And you always leave every girl you’ve been with completely satisfied?” you challenged. Sebastian smirked at you.

“No one’s ever filed any complaints. If anything, they become repeat customers.” He chuckled when you shot him a look of disgust. “Only joking, darling.”

But you were out of smart words and quick retorts. Now, your head was reeling with the decision you faced. You could say no and leave the Undercroft, and likely the remnants of your friendship with Sebastian. Or you could agree. And at the very least, you’d learn how it’d feel to finally be touched by him, just once. At best, he’d live up to his word and show you the glimpse of heaven you never thought your eyes would meet. Just once.

“Alright, fine,” you finally agreed. “If you’re so sure of yourself, let’s see that magic touch.” You couldn’t believe you’d just agreed to something so reckless and bold

Sebastian blinked. He hadn’t necessarily assumed you’d say no, but he’d been trying to censor his expectations – and hope. 

“A-alright, good,” he said with a nod. He gestured toward the sofa and cleared his throat. “I figured maybe this could help.”

“A mirror?” you asked warily. 

“Yes.”

Sebastian’s confidence hitched as reality ensnared itself in his head. The two of you were about to do something far more intimate than he ever could have envisioned. Of course, he certainly had pictured you in all states of undress, folded beneath him, perched on top of him, and every position in-between. But those were all fantasies, preserved for the quiet sanctity of Sebastian’s mind.

Now, he’d talked himself atop a pedestal and had to prove himself. But this was more than a notch in his belt and another girl to impress. This was you.

But Sebastian was just as stubborn and just as determined as you. And, like you, he always fought tooth and nail to keep his word. Especially when it came to matters that concerned you.

He studied you for a moment, your spine far straighter than usual and your cheeks flushed. You blinked back at him with wide eyes that made his trousers tighten. He felt like a predator waiting to sink his teeth into his prey. 

Once he’d gathered the confidence to convince his legs to work, Sebastian moved toward the sofa and sat smack-dab in the center of it. His arms were draped across the back, his knees parted, while his eyes met yours in the mirror’s reflection. He'd never looked more alluring — or more intimidating.

“Come sit.” It took a fleeting moment for you to understand he didn’t mean for you to lounge next to him. He wanted you to sit between his legs.

“O-okay,” you breathed. You moved at a glacial pace, terrified to appear too eager, eyes locked on the floor, before you stood above Sebastian. When you finally met his gaze, he licked his lips. The ache between your thighs blazed.

“I was thinking,” Sebastian continued as he spun you around so you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He peeked around you to see your reflection as he spoke. “I’ve noticed you’re a visual learner. You always master spells and potion brews as soon as you see them in action. So I thought maybe it’d help you to see yourself. Maybe if you can see what… you like, it’ll make it easier for you to… fully enjoy it.”

“Oh.”

Sebastian reached a hand toward you and you inhaled sharply. He paused, his outstretched hand lingering near your waist. “May I?” he asked. You nodded, unsure your tongue could craft a coherent response.

Sebastian’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers dragging across the fabric that covered the top of your thigh as his hand drifted downward. It snaked lower and lower until his fingers found the hem of your skirt. As his hand disappeared beneath it, cotton filled your mouth.

You could feel both of his hands retreat upward, grazing your thighs until he could feel the seam of your panties. You swallowed a whimper.

“Can I take these off?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” you rasped. The pads of his calloused fingertips felt rough against your skin as they tugged at the waistband of your panties and slid them downward. You watched your reflection as your panties pooled at your feet and your thigh muscles twitched.

Sebastian removed his hands from beneath the hem of your skirt and cleared his throat. “Sit,” he murmured.

Your racing heart threatened to crack your ribs inside your chest as you willed your knees to bend. You lowered yourself cautiously until you were seated between Sebastian’s thighs. But you sat at the very edge of the sofa, terrified to move any closer, and certain the ringing in your ears would leave you deaf.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian murmured in your ear. His breath was hot against the nape of your neck as he hooked an arm around your waist to tug you closer. Your breath hitched when the warmth of his body met yours. His chest pressed against your back. “Alright?”

You nodded in response, terrified to look him in the eye via your reflections. Instead, you stared at the floor as Sebastian began inching the hem of your skirt upward until it was bunched around your torso, exposing everything you had to offer. 

“Fucking hell,” Sebastian breathed against your neck.

When you finally gathered the courage to look in the mirror, you were certain you had tripped and fallen face-first into one of those dreams that you never dared to speak of. There you were, splayed out in the most obscene pose imaginable with Sebastian peering over your shoulder at your sacred pink flesh. You’d never seen something so sinful, and you’d certainly never thought you’d be front and center in such a scene.

Sebastian stared back at you with dark, heavy eyes that might have petrified you had he been anyone else. You could feel his chest heaving against your back, his breaths much more labored than usual. 

You could also feel something that was most certainly not his wand pressing into the small of your back. Arousal seeped from your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut to steady yourself. 

But a hand roamed to your chest and your eyes shot open as Sebastian unbuttoned the top half of your blouse. 

“Can I… touch you?” he said in your ear. Another nod in response.

Sebastian’s left hand disappeared inside your blouse and you swallowed a moan as his fingers grazed your right nipple. He cupped your breast fully until you had to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to relieve the pressure between them.

“Hey now,” Sebastian purred, his free hand reaching to pry your knees apart again. “You’re supposed to be watching.”

You bit back the urge to scold him for not doing more, to beg him to touch you in all the ways you’d only envisioned when left to your own thoughts in private. But Sebastian sensed your waning patience. His hand drifted up your leg and you watched the fingers of his reflection trace the crease of your thigh. The slickness pooling at your entrance was a dizzying paradox to the heat that scalded your nerve endings.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you rasped with much more gusto than you’d intended. Your resolve had withered and you weren’t above begging Sebastian to do something, anything to put a stop to your suffering.

“Just… tell me if you want me to stop,” Sebastian said. And before you could beg him to continue, his index and middle fingers skimmed your folds. They met your clit and pressed until a whimper finally escaped your throat.

Sebastian’s fingers swiped gently until you were digging your nails into the tops of your own thighs. The delicious friction was enough to make you wonder if Sebastian really would live up to the hype he’d created for himself. Other boys were good, but this was Sebastian.

As his fingers inched closer to your entrance, you whined and bucked your hips.

“So that’s where you like it,” Sebastian murmured in your ear. “See?”

You hummed in agreement and watched as Sebastian’s fingers pressed more before they finally sank inside of you. You moaned as they disappeared, then reappeared, dipping into your core until you could hear them parting your walls.

You clenched yourself tighter around them, begging them to show you what they could do, while you watched, half-lidded, in awe at the erotic scene that had unfolded. Sebastian’s brow was furrowed in concentration, a vision you would have found endearing had you not been on the cusp of unraveling in his arms. Instead, you merely marveled at the masterpiece framed in the mirror before you; your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as Sebastian's thighs flanked your sides. Now wasn't the time for sentimental discoveries, but you couldn't help but notice how perfectly you fit in front of him.

When Sebastian’s fingers pulled against your front wall, his other hand thumbed your nipple. You gasped at the dual sensations and Sebastian smirked at your reflection. “See? You like that, don’t you?”

When he pulled his fingers from you, you whimpered at the loss of pressure and the sight of your own arousal clinging to him. He groaned at his coated fingers and returned them to your clit. They pressed and prodded until you moaned again. “Right there,” Sebastian said as he ensured your eyes were still watching in the mirror. "See? This is the spot that drives you wild, isn't it?"

More and more pressure, scraping and swiping against that spot you liked; your eyes clinging to the reflection of your swollen cunt as Sebastian’s fingers danced against your flesh, his other hand squeezing your breast. 

"Sebastian, please," you begged.

It all felt far too good to be true.

“I’m going to try something,” Sebastian said in your ear. “It’s going to feel like a lot of pressure. I’ll stop if it gets to be too much, but if you can, try to relax your body, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sebastian’s middle finger sank inside of you and his hand jerked upward in quick, sharp motions, the heel of his palm dabbing against your clit. You heaved a resounding moan and your eyes finally clamped shut. 

Something was happening within your core. You’d felt it before, scraped its surface, but never pierced the barrier. It was a low simmer turned scalding, reaching a rolling boil that begged to breach its confines.

“Relax,” you heard Sebastian command. You exhaled violently, willing the tension and air to vacate your body as your eyes squeezed tighter and your chest caved. And when it did, the mounting pressure in your walls released. You cried out in surprise, stunned at the dizzying pleasure that pulsed through your core as your back arched and thighs quivered. It shocked your body until you were so sensitive, you were gritting your teeth. 

Sebastian’s hand didn’t stop until you did, and when your high finally subsided, you slumped into spineless submission, still whimpering at the foreign feeling between your legs.

When your eyes finally dared to glance toward the mirror, you caught a glimpse of your fucked out reflection, hair plastered to your crimson face while Sebastian stared at you in awe.

You wanted to praise him, worship him at an altar of the utmost holiness; crawl on your knees atop a bed of nails just to prove your gratitude and worth; declare your unwavering devotion to him, a god among mere mortals.

Your religion was Sebastian Sallow and you were the ultimate disciple. 

“I…” You didn’t know why you were bothering to try for words. Nothing you said could restore your dignity – not that you wanted it back. Not after that feeling; that precious jolt of new euphoria. Sebastian had earned his rightful place as God in your eyes.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, still eyeing you in the mirror.

You wished you could fire off some sort of witty response. That was your best defense when left in a vulnerable state, and you’d never felt more vulnerable than in this moment. Hell, you were still slumped against Sebastian with your skirt hiked around your waist while his hand lingered against your soaked entrance. 

The comedown from your climax felt like the worst celebration ever – a birthday party held in a funeral parlor. Your nerves lingered with elation but your brain filled with panic, especially as you realized Sebastian’s hard cock was still pressed into your lower back.

You reached behind your own back for it and heard him hiss when your fingers curled around its outline, still straining against the fabric of his trousers.

“Not tonight, darling,” he said, wrapping his own fingers around your wrist to stop you.

“But-”

“No. Remember our deal?”

“That was hardly a deal,” you said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. Your knees had fallen shut and the front of your blouse was askew, making it difficult for you to take yourself seriously. “It was more of a declaration on your behalf.”

“And it seems my declaration was correct, was it not?”

“Obviously, it was,” you admitted. You were in no state to claim otherwise. Not when you were still panting, your cunt still twitching from the aftermath of your first orgasm that came at the literal hands of Sebastian Sallow. 

Sebastian’s reflection flashed you a proud smirk. You knew he'd likely hold this above you forever. What you didn't know was how eager he was to relieve himself at the memory of you falling apart for the first time around his fingers. He couldn't believe he'd been the one to achieve that honor.

"Then perhaps you can make it up to me some other time,” he said.

“Some other time? You plan on doing this again?” you challenged as you began to button your blouse. 

Finally, that vulnerability you’d been feeling coursed its way into Sebastian. He swallowed and dropped his gaze. “Only if it interests you,” he said, feigning nonchalance with a shrug. “You know, if you still find those other sorry blokes are unable to leave you satisfied.”

"I suppose you're pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you?" you murmured.

"Not nearly as pleased as you, it seems."

You wanted to roll your eyes at him or call him a rude name, but how could you possibly aim any harsh words at the man who had just introduced you to utopia?

Not wanting to appear too eager to linger between his legs, you begrudgingly rose to your feet to adjust your skirt and panties. Sebastian remained seated and you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the tent in his trousers, which you noted looked much more impressive than Eric Northcott’s. You decided there would absolutely be a next time.

[imagrindylow]

Talk to Me

Leander Prewett / f!MC

7.8k Words Content Warnings: Just fluff! Pining, crushes, general cuteness. Summary: Sixth year has begun, and Leander is nervous to start talking to MC again after their summer apart. Tired of listening to his pining, Garreth comes up with a way to get Leander and MC talking. A/N: MC's house isn't specified, but for plot, she's written to not be in Gryffindor.

~~~~~

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, mate,” Garreth said, relaxing back against his headboard, a potions book and a mess of scribbled notes spread on his bed beside him that had been forgotten in the wake of conversation.

He and Leander had their dorm to themselves for the moment, and as typical, Leander was taking this time to vent about his lady woes – or rather – his lack-of-lady woes. 

Leander paced the space between their beds, shaking his head at his friend. Of course for someone like Garreth – someone confident and effortlessly funny and charming – getting a girl's attention was not a difficult task. Hell, Leander would settle for being able to talk to girls without putting his foot in his mouth. Not even girls, just… one specific girl. 

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Leander groaned, a rhetorical question that he stopped his pacing to answer with his standard self deprecating flair. “Oh, hello, I know I can barely speak to you without tripping over my words and making a fool of myself, but we should totally go out anyway,” he scoffed. “That’ll go over well.” 

Garreth sighed, feeling sympathetic to his friend’s situation. At the same time, however, sixth year had barely begun and the pining was already getting more than a little bit old. He had half a mind to march up to MC and tell her himself that Leander had been hemming and hawing about asking her out since fifth year, but Garreth valued his life and didn’t want to risk Leander hexing him into oblivion if he were to unintentionally make things worse. 

“You’re acting like she’s a stranger to you but she’s not. Sure, you haven’t talked since before summer, but all you have to do is break the ice with her again for the year. It’s not like you have to come right out and profess your undying love for her, just ask her to Hogsmeade or something,” Garreth said, picking up his book and casually riffling the pages. 

It was advice he’d given Leander before, that he had yet to take for whatever reason. Even if it didn’t lead to anything more, surely MC wouldn’t turn him down for a trip into the village. But Leander was as hard headed as he was insecure and nervous, and no amount of assurance from Garreth that he was actually a good catch would convince him.

“There’s better people for her to go to Hogsmeade with. She’s friends with everyone, I’d probably have to take a number and wait,” he said.

“I could talk to her for you,” Garreth said, not trying to sound too pushy, as he’d offered to do this before. 

Leander drew in a breath, eyes widening at Garreth as though the idea was insane. “Ohh no, absolutely not. You stay out of it. All you need to do is listen to me whine and let me wallow in my loneliness,” he said dramatically. 

Other friends of theirs may have found Leander’s theatrical refusal amusing – he was actually quite the funny bloke – but Garreth knew that in this instance it was a guise, hiding his actual hurt under his innate humor. 

Leander crossed the room and looked over himself in the mirror besides their dorm room door. He smoothed out his hair and tucked his button down into his trousers. “Anyway, I was planning on heading to the library to do some more reading for that Transfiguration assignment due next week. Want to come?”

Garreth shook his head and waved his friend off. “Nah. I’ll do it later, I work better under pressure, anyway.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t ask to copy my notes,” Leander said and shrugged. He grabbed his bag from the hook beside the door and slung it over his shoulder, then turned to leave, but there was a clatter beside his bed that made him stop and turn around. 

His small Scops Owl, Hoots, had woken up and restlessly ruffled his feathers in his cage. Leander crossed the room to the bird, and when he spoke this time his voice was much softer. “I’m sorry Hoots, I know you want to go back to the Owlery, but it’s still chucking it down outside and I know you don’t like to fly in the rain.” 

Leander waggled his finger near the owl’s face, showing him the red mark from a nip he’d given him earlier in the day, after the owl had gotten caught in the downpour while returning from delivering a letter to Leander’s parents. The owl had flown to the dorm window rather than straight back to the owlery, set on reprimanding Leander for sending him out without having checked the forecast, and Leander wasn’t going to make that mistake again. 

Leander unlatched the door of the cage, and offered the owl his arm and Hoots hopped onto his sleeve readily. “You can stretch your wings in the room until the rain stops,” he said, then looked up and addressed Garreth once again. “You’ll watch him while I’m out, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Garreth hummed. “Hoots and I will have a grand time, I’ll bounce potion ideas off him.”

Leander grinned and raised his arm, prompting Hoots to flutter his wings before flying over and landing on Garreth’s headboard. He perched near Garreth’s shoulder, as though he was actually going to look over the potions text with him.

“Right, I’m off then. See you,” Leander said and dipped out of the room, making his way towards the library at last.

Garreth read through his potions book for a good 40 minutes, jotting down notes here and there, and muttering under his breath comments on the potioneer author's ideas. Hoots chirped and chittered intermittently, prompting the boy to discuss further, until he was having a full conversation with the owl.

Before long, though, Garreth grew restless and distracted, his mind wandering back to his earlier conversation with Leander. He’d definitely said ‘no’ to his offer of speaking to MC on his behalf, but what if Garreth could help in a more inconspicuous way? Garreth hopped up from his bed needing to stretch his legs and wandered over to Leander’s desk, nonchalantly sifting through some rolls of parchment that were lined up neatly to the side.  

“You want to help me with something, Hoots?” Garreth called to the owl, who flew over to Leander’s desk at the mention of his name. Hoots turned his head sharply, as though waiting for Garreth to elaborate. “Well, you’d be helping your dad, honestly.” 

Unsurprisingly to Garreth after conversing to the bird about potions for the better part of the last hour, Hoots squawked from his perch on the edge of Leander’s desk, a sound of agreement. And so Garreth’s mind was made up. Much like in his potions work, once an idea struck him, it had to be executed – for better or worse. This was one of his better ideas, though. He could feel it.

If he couldn’t speak to MC on Leander’s behalf, maybe he could get MC to speak to him, all of her own accord.

Garreth plucked one of the rolls of parchment from Leander’s desk – an Ancient Runes assignment that Garreth happened to know (from the amount of complaining Leander had done while working on it) was due after the weekend. 

“You want to stretch your wings a bit, yeah? Why don’t you deliver this to MC? Surely she’s in the castle somewhere.” Garreth said and offered the roll of parchment to Hoots.

The small owl took the roll of parchment in the talons of one foot and stepped onto Garreth’s waiting hand. 

“Let’s hope we don’t run into Leander on the way through the portrait,” Garreth said and headed out of the dorm, then down the stairs and through the common room. 

In his mind, running into Leander was the only thing that could go wrong. Once Hoots was out of the common room, Garreth was confident that the owl could execute the rest of his plan. The plan, of course, was that MC, after coming into possession of Leander’s assignment, would bring it back to him, and thus, talk to him. So simple. Would she be confused as to why an owl was bringing her someone else’s school work? Yes. Most definitely. But that – in Garreth’s opinion – just made the whole thing even better. She and Leander would be able to laugh about it, and laughing along with the girl you fancied was a good thing. Garreth definitely considered himself a genius for this one.

With Hoots on his arm, Garreth made his way through the portrait hole, and out into the castle. “Alright Hoots, remember, take this to MC and come right back. Avoid Leander, and I’ll be waiting out here to let you back inside. Be quick,” he instructed the owl, and with a swoop, Hoots was off on his mission, and Garreth took a seat on the floor in the hall outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

~~~

Across the castle, MC had been enjoying her Friday evening over a game of Exploding Snap in the Great Hall, where she and several of her friends had lingered for a while after dinner. Talks of weekend plans were interrupted when a small owl flew in the open doors, screeching happily as it swooped down towards the tables. She hadn’t been expecting mail, especially not at this hour when usually post was delivered during breakfast, and so MC startled when the roll of parchment was dropped right in front of her, disturbing some of her cards that laid on the table.

“What’ve you got?” one of her friends asked her as she unrolled the paper.

The confusion read on her face as she looked the parchment over. She wasn’t taking the class, but still she recognised that what she’d been delivered was someone's Ancient Runes assignment. Not just any someone, though, but Leander Prewett’s – his name was written in neat calligraphy at the top corner of the page. What in Merlin’s name?

“Nothing, it was a mistake, it isn’t for me,” she told her friend, and tucked the parchment neatly into her bag that rested beside her on the floor.

She couldn’t explain why, but she found the fact that she was now in possession of Leander’s assignment to be embarrassing. It hadn’t been graded yet, nor did it appear to be completed, which told her that the work was due at a future date, and this further meant that she’d need to return it to him, and quickly, too. The problem was, they were on the eve of the weekend, and she had no idea where Leander liked to spend his time on Friday evenings. 

She pushed the issue from her mind only long enough to finish her game of Exploding Snap before excusing herself from the group and making her way back to her dorm. Thinking on things, she decided the best way to return his assignment would be the same way she’d received it – by owl. Could she deliver it to him over breakfast in the morning? Maybe, if they ended up eating at the same time, but that idea sounded terribly awkward. What if he accused her of stealing it somehow? In front of all of his friends… It wasn't an embarrassment that she could risk. Unfortunately for Leander, though, MC didn’t have her own owl, and she was most certainly not going to walk to the owlery in rain so heavy. She would wait till morning and hope that tomorrow would bring clearer weather, but in the meantime she took a seat at her desk to write a note that she planned to send along with the return of his assignment.

~~~

Leander woke Saturday morning to bright sun peeking through the slits in his bed curtains. Whatever time it was, it was far too early, but Hoots started flittering his wings at the first sounds of Leander waking up, and that was all it took to have the boy sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was up and out of bed quickly after that, opening the window so that Hoots could fly back to the owlery before he woke the rest of the dorm with his impatience. 

By the time Leander was finished getting ready for the day, all of his dorm mates were still asleep in their beds, so he settled in at his desk, looking to utilize the early morning peace and quiet to finish up some work, so he could relax the rest of the weekend. His desk was always tidy, so it was very puzzling when Leander couldn't immediately find his Ancient Runes assignment. He knew he’d left it right there, lined up neatly with the rolls of parchment for his other classes, on the left hand side of his desk… He ran his hand through his still damp, freshly washed hair, and pushed his chair back from his desk. He hadn’t wanted to start his day with nervous pacing, but here he was. He couldn’t restart this assignment. There wasn’t enough time.

The wooden floors in the boys dorm – well, in the whole castle, really – were quite worn and creaky, and though he was trying to be quiet, his footfalls were actually rather disruptive, apparently, as one by one, the other boys in the dorm started turning over in their beds and waking up.

“It’s too early to be anxious already, Prewett, go back to sleep!” Eric Northcott called with a groan from behind his bed curtains.

“I have an Ancient Runes assignment due Monday morning and it’s gone!” Leander explained. “I dunno what to do,  I can’t restart it now, I'd been working on it all week!”

“Here’s an idea, worry about it later, when people are awake,” Eric said pointedly.

Garreth groaned. He hated knowing that what he’d done was stressing Leander out, but he couldn’t for the sake of the plan let anything slip. He had to have faith that MC would return the missing assignment before Leander had a full breakdown.

“Calm down, Eric, it’s a bloody Saturday, you can take a nap later if you’re tired. Come on lads! We ought to get up and help him look for it,” Garreth said, and swung his legs to the floor, stretched, then walked over to his own desk so he could make a show of trying to find the roll of parchment which was definitely not at any of their desks.

“Thanks, Gar,” Leander muttered, annoyed with Eric, as he crouched down and started going through the drawers on his desk.

“Of course, mate.”

Garreth’s advice, however, was apparently uninspiring, because soon the other boys were hitting the showers to start their day, leaving Garreth to help Leander on his own.

“It’ll turn up, it can’t have gone far, yeah? Was it in your bag? Maybe it fell out at the library?” Garreth offered, his stomach dropping uncomfortably as he fed his best friend false leads. It would pay off in the end, he repeated on loop in his head as he crossed the room to Eric’s desk, pawing through the other boys' scrolls.

“I didn’t work on it in the library, I only worked on it here, at my desk. So it was never in my bag.” Leander stood and stretched out his back, his hand coming anxiously to rest on the back of his neck as his eyes swept the room. He got to his knees and looked under his bed, but there was nothing. “I’m going to lose my mind. First major assignment in this class and I’m going to fail it.”

Garreth couldn’t keep commenting on it. Leander’s nerves were rubbing off on him. He’d taken a massive risk and put his faith in someone else’s honesty, and it was eating at him. At this point, they’d pretty thoroughly searched the dorm, Leander was obviously still empty handed, and Garreth was antsy. He had to get Leander out of the door – out of Gryffindor tower – so MC would have a chance to find him and return this damn parchment.

“How about we head down to breakfast?” Garreth suggested.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“Yes you are, you never skip breakfast. Come on. We’re going,” he insisted. “It’ll do you good, getting your mind off of it for a bit.”

“You haven’t even showered yet, are you even ready to go?”

Garreth kicked his pajama pants off right there, nudging them with his foot over towards his bed just to get them out of the middle of the dorm room floor, then pulled on his trousers from the day before. “I’ll do it later, no point in showering yet when I’m just going to be getting dirty in a cauldron later.” 

Leander shook his head, the slightest smirk forming on his lips as Garreth pulled on a jumper and deemed himself ready to go. Leander wished he could be so carefree and unbothered.

 “Alright, you, let’s go then,” Leander said, and the pair of them started the walk down to the Great Hall.

Leander would admit, getting out of the dorm, conversing with Garreth and his other friends, and having something to eat was helping. He knew in the grand scheme of things, missing one assignment would not be the end of his world, but the fact that it wouldn’t come without consequences, when he’d done the bulk of the work, didn’t sit right with him. Still, he tried to enjoy the start of his weekend. 

Post came as Leander was finishing his morning tea, his plate of breakfast sitting empty in front of him, while he was deep in conversation about quidditch with his housemates – a conversation that only dissolved as the people around him started receiving letters and parcels. Leander had corresponded with his family only the day prior, so he wasn’t expecting the roll of parchment that landed where his eggs and toast had been only minutes prior.

Garreth could barely contain the grin on his face as he watched Leander unroll the parchment. Bloody hell, MC worked quickly. Leander had only managed to panic about his missing assignment for an hour before it was miraculously back in his hands. He couldn’t blow his cover just yet though, so he hid his delight with his teacup, feigning nonchalance. 

Leander’s mouth hung open, completely shocked and confused to say the least, but moreover he was relieved. Further unrolling the scroll, a smaller slip of parchment would fall into his lap. That wasn’t in there before…

Leander,  This is going to sound very strange, but a small brown owl brought this to me yesterday evening as I was sitting in the great hall. I thought you’d want it back. MC

“How in the world?” Leander muttered under his breath, staring at the note in his hands, then checking and double checking that the roll of parchment he’d just received was actually his missing assignment, because there was no way that MC should have had it. 

“Hm?” Garreth hummed, raising a brow and turning to Leander.

“MC has just returned my Ancient Ruins assignment… via owl,” Leander said, fully aware that the idea seemed impossible despite the note in front of him claiming otherwise.

“Weird,” Garreth said and shrugged. “Hey, at least it’s back now though, you can stop worrying.” 

“Yesterday evening… I was in the library. Was she– No, nevermind,” Leander fumbled through his thoughts, trying to decide what to articulate. MC couldn’t have been in his dorm, right? While he was gone? No. Garreth wouldn’t do that. He wanted to go over to her table and question her, but he could only picture how that would go over. Her friends would laugh at him, standing there being far too tall, tripping over his words as he asked where she’d gotten his assignment from. No. He’d send her a note, like she did for him.

Garreth noticed how pensive Leander was, and found it amusing. The other boy had more questions than he currently had answers to, but his plan had worked flawlessly, and now Leander had something to chat with MC about. As far as he was concerned, he could wash his hands of the situation and wait for things to play out.

~~~

Leander was on a mission of his own following breakfast. He jotted a note back to MC, sitting at his desk for far too long mulling over so very few words, but eventually, he had a note that he didn’t think would be too mortifying to send. A simple thank you, and some speculation about his owl. 

MC, You’re right, that did sound very strange. But I did need it back, so, thanks. A small brown owl, you say? Sounds like my Hoots, but I have no idea why he’d do such a thing… He was in the castle last night, though, the menace of a bird. Leander

Even though the exchange wasn’t face to face, Leander found himself nervous as he walked his note from the Gryffindor dorms all the way to the Owlery. He had to admit, though, the fresh air was nice, and the grounds still smelt pleasantly of rain from the day before. He just hoped the climb up the tower would be worth it, that his note would be well received and he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d reply again. He liked seeing his name in her handwriting.

Leander found Hoots easily amongst the other owls currently occupying the Owlery, as he was quite a bit smaller than most of the rest of them, and he approached his owl with crossed arms and an inquisitive stare. 

“I hear that you may have had an outing yesterday while I was in the library,” Leander began, raising his brow at the owl who craned his neck around, big round eyes looking innocently back at him.

“You’d tell me if Garreth was up to something, right?” 

Hoots could neither confirm nor deny.

“If either of you are up to something, I’ll find out,” Leander said in warning before producing his note for MC from the pocket of his robe and handing it to Hoots. “Take this to MC, please.” 

Hoots chirped, gripping the paper in his talons before stretching out his wings and taking flight, and Leander began his walk back to the castle with a fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

Back in possession of his assignment, Leander was able to get it finished before lunch, and it had felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew he stressed too much about his classes, but he wasn’t one of those students who could perform well on assignments or tests without putting in a lot of effort. But with the ordeal finally  behind him, he was able to enjoy lunch, and get back outside for a bit of afternoon Summoner’s Court with Garreth after the meal.

“I still don’t understand how she ended up with it, but I’m really glad she returned it,” Leander commented, pacing the board behind Garreth as the other boy lined up his pull.

“Of course she returned it, she’s a nice person,” Garreth said, then took another moment to check his aim before casting the summoning charm on one of the blue balls at the other end of the court. He earned himself a nice thirty points and smirked. “I’m getting better at this.”

“You are, thanks to me,” Leander boasted. He’d been practicing a lot since fifth year, as he was determined to not lose to MC again, should another chance to play with her arise. He liked showing off to his other competitors, though, too. He and Garreth played frequently.

“Anyway,” Garreth said with a roll of his eyes, watching Leander summon one of the red balls towards them. It rolled to a stop in the forty point zone and Garreth couldn’t be surprised. He was doing better, but he’d yet to beat Leander. “What’s it matter how she got it? You got it back in time to finish it up.” Deflect, deflect, deflect!  

“Yes, but it’s odd, and I don’t like it. I feel like I’m losing my mind trying to figure out how in Merlin’s name she got hold of it.”

Garreth shrugged, then took his second turn, one of his balls rolling up beside Leander’s red one for forty points. Damnit if Leander wasn't inquisitive, though. He had to change the subject. Thankfully, an owl gliding towards them made this easy. He pointed up at the bird and shouted, “Look!”

“Oi, don’t try to distract me while I’m lining up my shot!” Leander grumbled, fumbling his casting and only earning himself twenty points on his second turn. He hadn’t even noticed the owl, but he did notice the small roll of parchment fall at his feet just then, and his face heated up as he looked sheepishly back at Garreth. “Oh… sorry Gar.”

“Always assuming the worst of me,” he teased. “Well, what is it?”

Leander unrolled the small piece of parchment and his face continued to flush. “She wrote back, she replied to my note,” he said with a grin before reading the note.

Leander, Hoots? Well, that's a very fitting name for an owl. He’s a cute little guy, and surprisingly demanding for as small as he is. I was in the courtyard when he found me with your last note and he seemed offended that I didn’t have any treats on me at the time. Give him extra from me. MC

Leander read and reread the note. Was she teasing him for his owls name? It certainly sounded that way, and that made him feel warm. He’d apparently had a ridiculous look on his face, that he hadn’t even been aware of until he felt Garreth’s hand on his back, giving him a hard pat and snapping him out of it.

“Your face is as red as your hair right now, you know,” Garreth teased, trying to sneak a peek at the note in Leander’s hands.

“Shut up,” he grumbled and stuffed the note into his pocket before hopping off of the Summoner’s Court platform and heading back towards the front of the castle.

“Where are you going?” Garreth shouted. “We haven’t even finished this round!”

“I need to write her back!” Leander called over his shoulder.

“I’m ten points ahead, if you leave right now, I win!” 

“Congratulations!” Leander shouted back, and gave Garreth a wave. 

Losing a game of Summoner’s Court didn’t seem like such a big deal when he was exchanging little notes with MC after a summer of not talking to her. All the worrying and pining Leander had done over the last few weeks since classes had started back up felt silly now – she was joking with him and she wasn’t ignoring him. Maybe Garreth was right, maybe he had been making things harder than they needed to be. Leander knew he had a habit of getting stuck in his head, but acknowledging this issue was much easier than actually fixing it. Still, he was feeling very hopeful as he made his way back to his desk to write another reply.

~~~

MC hadn’t expected to spend her Saturday writing little notes back and forth with Leander, but she found herself to be thoroughly enjoying it. Something about it was fun, even with how simple and silly it was. It made her wish they would have exchanged letters over the summer, even though they were both to blame for not having done so.

Leander’s second note came as MC was practicing dueling with the training dummies in the clocktower entrance of the castle. There wasn’t an official crossed wands session scheduled for this evening, but really, one could never be too well practiced.

She was glad, actually, that she was only practicing with the dummy when Hoots found her, because had she been dueling a living opponent, she’d have surely lost the round due to distraction. Not to mention, if she was in a real duel, she’d have had to deal with a crowd of her peers seeing her go all blushy. More familiar with Leander’s owl now, she raised her arm, offering Hoots a perch, and the bird landed gracefully to deliver her note.

“I still don’t have any treats, I’m sorry. Hopefully Leander gave you some earlier,” she told the owl as she carefully unrolled the slip of parchment. 

MC, I’ll have you know, I named Hoots when I was 11 years old, so all things considered, I think I did well. It could have been so much worse, honestly. He’s quite spoiled already, but I did give him some extra treats since you were so ill prepared earlier, and I think he’s forgiven you. Hope you’re having a good weekend so far. Leander

She hummed warmly as she read his note, glancing at Hoots who remained perched on her left forearm. “He’s had you for quite awhile then, that’s sweet. And you’re spoiled, are you?” She spoke fondly to the owl, and couldn’t help but picture Leander doting on his pet. Hoots cooed happily, seeming to enjoy the attention before flying back off and out the open gates of the Clock Tower entrance. Both of Leander’s notes would accompany MC through the rest of her day, nice and secure in her pocket. She found herself peeking at them when she had moments to herself from then until dinner.

She was planning on writing him back, too, of course, she’d even thought of what she’d wanted to say as she sat at her house table amongst her friends in the Great Hall at dinner time. That is, until she saw him walking through the tall wooden doors and towards the Gryffindor table, because at that point all of her thoughts seemed to simply evaporate, and she just watched him with what was probably a very stupid grin on her face. 

But then he looked at her, and her grin didn’t seem so stupid because his own grin matched, and he waved at her. The whole thing was enough to catch her friend's attention, but the girls who flanked her sides were unable to trace her gaze in time. 

“Who’s got you grinning like that?” one of the girls asked, giving MC a gentle nudge with her elbow. 

Both of the girls were giggling, and MC’s face was getting redder. “Is it the same boy who’s been sending you notes?”

MC was suddenly regretting the small bits of information she’d shared with her girlfriends, because now not only was she being teased (albeit goodnaturedly) but he was watching, too. If MC knew Leander at all, and she liked to think she did, he’d be absolutely eating this up. Thankfully, though, she hadn’t told her friends who the notes were from, because she knew if she had, they’d never let her hear the end of it.

“Maybe so,” MC said with quite the coy smile, as she tried and failed to focus on the plate in front of her, though she knew her friends wouldn’t let her off that easily. 

“Has he been sending you love notes?” one asked.

“They are not love notes, they’re just friendly notes,” MC said, though no amount of insisting would convince the other girls, even though she was being honest.

“And your blushing is just friendly blushing?” the other teased.

“You both ought to remember this next time you find yourselves fancying a boy,” MC warned, feeling smug with her promise of eventual comeuppance before she’d realized…

“So you admit you fancy this mystery boy, then?”

She’d said a bit too much.

~~~

Leander had watched as MC’s friends teased her, and coupled with the way they’d looked at eachother, he knew it was to do with him. She was blushy and her friends were giggling and it was due to him. Even considering the way he had struggled with girls previously, Leander could acknowledge that this was a great sign, and he’d talk Garreth’s ear off about it as the pair relaxed in the common room that evening.

“I told you all you had to do was talk to her- erm, I mean, I guess passing notes does count, too. Still. Told you so,” Garreth said, sitting with his legs spread out in front of him on the common room floor, close to the fireplace. There was soot on his jumper from the day's potions experiments and he was flipping through his journal, expanding on notes he’d jotted down earlier about his findings. He’d been listening to Leander gush for several minutes at this point.

“You’re right, I’m not denying it, you do know what you’re talking about sometimes,” Leander admitted. He was sitting on the floor close by Garreth, merely watching his friend work and keeping him company. 

“I’d like that in writing, thank you,” Garreth said with a smirk, not looking up from his journal.

“Very funny. I hope she writes again tomorrow.”

“Better yet, you could talk to her in person. She isn’t that scary, she’s just a girl.”

Just a girl. Leander had heard rumors about things MC had accomplished last year, and he begged to differ. “No, I’m fairly certain that she is scary.”

“You already said I was right, might as well just do what I say,” Garreth said with a smirk.

“I said sometimes,” he clarified. 

They’d go back and forth for a while, until slowly the common room emptied as their housemates headed to their dorms for bed. As the room quieted down, Leander realized how tired he was, and he suggested that he and Garreth head to their dorm as well. Leander couldn’t lie, he was excited to get to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come already. If he could have another day like today with MC, he’d be happy.

~~~

MC had similar feelings when she woke up Sunday morning. Despite her friends teasing her, she was actually quite keen to keep sending back and forth little notes with Leander, and while she still wasn’t quite sure why on earth Hoots gave her his assignment of all things, she was glad it had happened, since it led to such an enjoyable day.

She took her time getting herself ready for the day, dragging her feet intentionally so she could have the dorm to herself as she sat at her desk to finally reply to Leander’s last note. She just wasn’t quite ready for her girlfriends to know who she had such a crush on, since she couldn’t say for certain that he felt the same… At the same time though, if their interactions in fifth year meant anything, she had a bit of an idea. He’d always been so adorably shy around her, fumbling his words while trying to boast. She’d found him endearing from the start and just the thought that he may feel the same had her grinning as she got to writing. 

Leaving her dorm, she headed straight to the Owlery, wanting to send his note before going to breakfast. She hadn’t walked to the Owlery so many times in one weekend since she’d arrived at Hogwarts, but she couldn’t say she minded it, the weather was pleasant and the path wasn’t as muddy as it had been the day before.

Immediately upon starting up the spiral staircase, MC realized that she was not the only student visiting the Owlery to start off the day, as she could hear a boy's voice echoing against the curved stone walls.. She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but as she got further up the stairs, she could have sworn she heard the voice mentioned Hoots – a voice that didn’t belong to Leander. Curious, MC cast disillusionment on herself and made her way further up the staircase quietly as she could, until she reached the top and she could just peek onto the landing to see what was going on…

She’d been right. Someone was talking to Hoots. 

“You did so well yesterday, you know that, Hoots? I knew I could count on you to help me pull this off,” Garreth Weasley spoke proudly to Leander’s owl. 

MC held her breath, watching him hand-feed the owl a few treats from a small bag that he’d pulled from his pocket, before handing one of the school’s owls a letter to send off.  She quickly maneuvered up the last few stairs and to the opposite side of the room before Garreth crossed towards the staircase and made his way down. She watched out one of the many windows until she was sure Garreth was gone before finally lifting the disillusionment charm.

She marched right over to Hoots with a smirk on her face, shaking her head in disbelief at what she’d heard. 

“Conspiring with Garreth, are you?” she asked the owl with an amused scoff. “I wondered why in Merlin’s name you brought me Leander’s Ancient Runes assignment.

MC stepped back over to the stairs, sitting down at the top, she pulled a roll of spare parchment from her bag and hastily ripped off a section. Abandoning the note she’d initially planned on sending to Leander, she hastily started scrawling him a new one. 

~~~

Leander saved the seat next to him at breakfast that morning. It wasn’t anything new, Garreth always wrote home on Sundays, something his mum liked for him to do, and that Garreth did without fail. Leander had noticed quickly that Garreth was not the only one missing that morning though. He scanned MC’s house table, and she was not sitting with her friends as she always did. It was a shame. He’d been looking forward to seeing the way she blushed when she looked at him.

Post was arriving as Garreth returned from the Owlery. The other boy was grinning as he slid into his saved seat beside Leander, and he started promptly piling eggs and sausage onto his plate. Out of the corner of his eye, Garreth saw Leander reaching to catch a small roll of parchment as it fell towards him.

“She’s early with it, isn't she,” Garreth commented, quite pleased to see that MC had wasted no time writing to Leander this morning. He was feeling quite smug that his plan had worked out so well. He loved seeing Leander so happy.

“She is,” Leander agreed. It wasn’t a short walk to the Owlery, and the fact that two of her notes came with the morning post meant that she was up and thinking of him first thing in the morning, and that made Leander feel very good.

Leander,  This was meant to be a completely different note, but as I was taking it to the owlery, I came across something very interesting that I think you’d like to hear about. But I should tell you about it in person. Meet me in the library when you get this. MC

“Well?” Garreth asked, leaning in towards Leander a bit to sneak a peek at the note. 

Leander’s already rosy cheeks tinged a bit darker pink as he read the note. She wanted to meet with him in person. Him. No wonder she wasn’t in the Great Hall. She was waiting for him. He let out a breath of nervous laughter before gathering his words, hardly believing his luck. “She wants me to meet her in the library… right now.”

“Oooh, that sounds promising,” Garreth said, clicking his tongue and winking at Leander while giving him a nudge with his elbow.

“It does, doesn't it? She says she heard something interesting and she wants to tell me about it. Wonder what it could be.”

“Well go on, go find out, don’t keep a lady waiting,” Garreth encouraged, and with that, Leander was cutting his breakfast short and making his way out of the Great Hall, holding his head just a bit higher than usual.

~~~

MC made sure she wasn’t hard to find, waiting for Leander at the end of one of the centrally located long tables on the first floor of the library. She was eating an apple that she’d thankfully had in her bag, and watching the door. She hadn’t had to wait long, and she waved when she saw him.

Why was she so nervous? She’d been the one to ask him to meet her, and here he was, walking towards her, and the closer he got the warmer her face felt, until finally he sat down beside her, and the room felt so warm she was sure she’d melt.

“M-Morning,” Leander said as he slipped onto the bench beside MC. He sounded just as nervous, maybe even more so, and this made her feel better. 

“Hey, good morning,” she grinned, pausing a beat just looking at him, and probably doing so for a bit longer than she should have. His honey brown eyes dropped to where his hands laid folded on the table, like he couldn’t quite take the way she’d looked at him. She shouldn’t have glanced down at his hands. Merlin. 

She cleared her throat, her blush creeping up to her ears. “Erm, so I overheard something when I was in the Owlery this morning…” 

“Oh?” Despite being a flushed mess himself, it was clear Leander took pride in the fact that MC also had quite the pronounced blush on her face. He was also very interested to hear anything MC had to say.

“Garreth. He was talking to Hoots. He told him ‘you did so well yesterday’ and said ‘I knew I could count on you to help me pull this off,’” she said, then waited as Leander processed. 

His mouth was hanging open, and he stared at her with wide eyes. She could tell he knew where she was going with this. “He said that to Hoots? You’re sure?”

 “Positive. He gave him treats, too. Then he mailed something using one of the school’s owls,” MC said. “I should add… he didn’t know I was there. I cast disillusionment on myself when I heard him mentioning your owl.”

“You think–”

“Your Ancient Runes assignment–”

“He told Hoots to give it to you, that sly bastard! He was alone in the dorm with Hoots for a good hour and a half Friday evening while I was in the library, and we’d been talking about–” Leander paused, catching himself before he said anything that would embarrass him too much, though, he should have known, MC wasn’t going to let him get off without at least a bit of questioning.

“Talking about what?”

“It– it doesn't matter. I just know it was him. He put Hoots up to it, it’s the only explanation. He… he was trying to get you and I to talk,” Leander admitted.

MC looked just as surprised as Leander had, when she’d told him what she’d overheard. Surprised and delighted. “Was he, now?” She asked with a raised brow and a bit of a smug grin.

“Yeah. He was.” Leander nodded, knowing he should be more forthcoming, but that felt very daunting right now, even with the way MC grinned at him. Damn did she look pretty like that. He knew she was smart, though. She could put the pieces together. 

“Well, it worked,” she said and let out a huff of amusement. 

“It did. I suppose I can’t be too mad at him, can I?”

MC shook her head. She could tell Leander was likely leaving out some details of what he and Garreth had talked about Friday evening, but context gave her enough to go by. If Garreth had wanted them to talk, so much so much so that he went and mettled, they must have been talking about her. Leander had wanted to talk to her. He’d just needed a little encouragement.

“You know, I was worried that you would think I somehow stole that assignment,” MC said, still quite amused and also quite flustered. 

This had Leander grinning, knowing she’d been just as worried about the whole situation as he had been. He was less nervous when he spoke now, smiling at her and talking with his hands as he often did when he was a bit worked up. “When I tell you I wanted to pull my hair out, looking for that damn roll of parchment Saturday morning. I thought I was losing my mind, and I felt even more crazy when you of all people sent it back to me, by owl, no less,” he rambled then shook his head subtly, still almost in disbelief of how it all happened. “And Garreth – that little shite – he helped me search our dorm!”

MC laughed, just picturing the scene playing out as he described it. Bloody hell did her laugh do things to his heart. Leander felt light inside, and he chuckled with her. 

“I’d have loved to see that,” she said, still giggling softly. 

“I imagine it was probably pretty entertaining to watch,” he agreed, looking fondly at her.

“I’m glad you didn’t pull your hair out, though, I rather like your hair,” she added, grinning at the way her compliment made him blush. 

Leander could feel his heart racing. “Th-thank you, I’m glad I didn’t, too, then.”

There were a few moments of silence between them, and their mutual little giggles calmed down. MC’s face softened and when she spoke again, she sounded a little more serious. “You didn’t have to be nervous about talking to me, you know,” she said. She was going out on a limb and making some assumptions, but given what he had said, the fact he was sure Garreth’s intention had been to get the two of them talking, she was fairly confident in her assertion.

“Yeah… that’s what Garreth said, too,” he said and smirked coolly, despite the fact that his stomach was fluttering madly right now.

“Well, he was right.” 

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Leander said and looked around, just making sure the other boy hadn’t sneakily followed him– he wouldn’t put it past him, if he was being honest. He hummed thoughtfully. “But I suppose I won’t be so nervous in the future.”

“Good, because I’ve really enjoyed this – writing back and forth. Talking with you. You better keep sending me notes.”

Leander was beaming. She enjoyed talking to him, she wanted more notes. He’d write her more notes than she’d know what to do with, if it meant she’d keep looking at him the way she was – blushing and smiling and flirting with him. Bloody hell, he owed Garreth majorly for this. Sixth year was going to be a good year. “Don’t worry, I will, I promise.”

[newbienewness]

Some Sallow for you guys.

[little-emerald-snake]

Kinktober

Costume - Leander Prewett x F!MC

🔥NSFW🔞MDNI

Warnings: p-in-v, creampie

1427 words

(banner made by me)

She was still known to the students of Hogwarts as the ‘new fifth year’ even though she was well into her 7th year by now, so when she’d received an invitation to The Gryffindor Halloween party, she was both shocked and excited by it. She had a feeling it was either Natty or Garreth who invited her since she was fairly close to them.

She immediately went into costume planning mode, seeing as it was a costume party. Should she dress cute or sexy? Low effort or full send. She’d never attended a party and was definitely overthinking it.

After talking to a few of her friends around the castle she’d landed on the idea to paint her face like a skull and wear some dark robes, white shirt, black vest, black skirt and some simple fishnet stocking with black boots.

When the night came she was pleased with her look, eyeing herself in the mirror to check every angle for flaws. So far she was very pleased with the outcome.

She was even more excited by it when she stepped into the Gryffindor common room, which was open to students of all houses as long as they had their party invite in hand, and multiple pairs of eyes swung towards her.

Gracefully she made her way in and to the makeshift bar where a different student served her some delicious marshmallow flavored concoction in white cup that had been drawn on to look like a ghost.

She turned, seeing Natty walking up to her with a smile, opening her arms for a hug. She was wearing a crown of antlers and some face paint to look like a gazelle. “It’s so good to see you, my friend! Your costume looks great! You have lots of attention on you right now.”

She smiled and hugged Natty, flushing at the attention but it was thankfully hidden by her face paint. “Oh thanks Natty! I suppose I do. Were you the one who sent me an invite?”

Natty smiled but shook her head. “No actually. When I went to invite you, your name was already crossed off the list, it seems like you have good standing in the Gryffindor house's eyes.”

Her brow furrowed but she nodded. She was happy they liked her but it was a little surprising that Natty wasn’t the one who invited her. It must be Garreth. Possibly Lucan? Maybe she had more Gryffindor friends than she originally thought.

She’d hung out with Natty till she spotted Garreth, wearing his usual attire with a bandolier of potions across his abdomen. She politely excused herself and walked over to Garreth who was waving her over with a grin.

She smiled and sat on the arm of the couch he was seated in. “Hello Garreth. I see you took the simple costume route? Might I assume you were my invite for tonight?”

Garreth chuckled but shook his head, messy curls bouncing. “No, I was going to but your name was crossed off when I got to it. I do know who did invite you though. He must have been in quite the rush to do it since your name was gone so fast.”

Her eyes widened, so Garreth knew who’d invited her. “Oh? And who was it that invited me then? I don’t suppose it was Lucan, was it?”

Garreth laughed, sipping his own marshmallow drink that looked slightly discolored, and she wondered if Garreth had added one of the bottles from his bandelier to his cup. “It definitely wasn’t Lucan. Although I’m sure he would have loved to invite his star dualist. Think again.”

Now she was really perplexed, who else could have invited her. If it wasn’t Natty, Garreth, or Lucan, who else would it be?

Garreth’s eyes locked on movement behind her, a grin spreading across her face, and it felt like slow motion as she slowly spun around, eyes taking in none other than Leander Prewett walking towards her in a dark thief costume.

From the grin on Garreth’s face, she was certain she’d found who’d invited her. “Leander, it was you who invited me?”

Leander nodded, stopping in front of her with a prideful smile. “I did. I wanted to make sure you felt welcomed here.” His eyes cast to the floor, losing a bit of his previous determination. “I hope you don’t mind that it was me. I only wanted to show you kindness in return for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years.”

She smiled, unable to keep her eyes from roving over his tall, confident stature. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m thrilled, honestly. It was very sweet of you.”

His prideful smile returned, pinning a hand to his chest and giving her a bow before offering his hand. “Would you care to dance then? I’d be honored to give you your first dance of the evening.”

She smiled, nodding while taking his hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor, abandoning her cup with Garreth. She beamed as he spun and twirled her about the dance floor with ease.

After their dance he pulled her off the dance floor and instead of returning back to Garreth she pushed him to the hall outside the dorms where they could talk alone, a smile plastered on her face. “You know I really appreciate this, Leander. I didn’t know if I’d be invited at all, let alone by such a gentleman.”

Before he could reply, she was pulling him in, pressing her lips to his as she tugged him towards her. His hands tightened around her, tugging her closer and kissing her deeply.

He carefully maneuvered them into his dorm room, thankful his roommate was still out causing chaos as he walked her back toward his bed, helping her onto it.

Her hands became greedy, moving across his stomach and pulling at his shirt. Their kiss didn’t even break for a moment as he undid and tugged off the layers to his thief’s costume. As her hands slid over the slender yet firm panes of his stomach, his own went out to undo her own costume, eager to gain access to her beautiful body.

He groaned when his fingers met skin and he slid her shirt out of the way to caress her soft curves, long dexterous fingers sliding up under her bra to cup her breast, teasing her nipple lightly.

With a light pinch, their lips parted as she gasped, arching into his touch. He groaned, sitting up a little to admire her exposed skin, heat settling in his thickening erection. “You’re beautiful…absolutely stunning.”

She rolled her hips against him where he sat on his knees between her legs, dragging a groan out of him. “Ah, darling. Are you sure you want to do that? We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

She nodded, rolling her hips up again with a whimper. “M’on the potion. Come on, Leander. Show me your courage.” He didn’t hesitate, flipping her skirt up and groaning at her fishnet covered thighs. His heart said treat her gently and slide them down but his head and her needy whines pushed him to grip the stockings, ripping them down the center and exposing her underwear to him.

She moaned, canting her hips up for him. He reached down to free his erection, positioning himself at her entrance as he pulled her underwear aside. He leaned down, slowly sinking into her tight heat with a groan, lifting his head to kiss her softly. She felt so incredibly good around him it was a struggle to stay still. But after giving her a moment to adjust, she dug her heels into his lower back and he began to move inside of her.

Their kiss broke, a small string of saliva between them as he picked up the pace, leaning down to whisper sweet things into her ear. She was moaning, her fingers clawing into the back of his costume as he moved inside of her. Both of them were breathless, needing each other with a fevered intensity.

Slow but hard, intimate but needy, he rocked into her giving her everything she whimpered and pleaded for till she was tightening around him and swiftly dragging him over the edge with her.

They panted in unison, Leander rolling off of her to collapse at her side with a shaky exhale. “Great Merlin, if I knew that was the thank you for a simple party invite I’d have made a party just to have invited you.”

[libellule-ao3]

Hey,

I really like your Ominis' NSFW Alphabet. Can I request one for Sebastian?

Hello,

I had some random HCs about Sebastian in a file. Your request prompted me to organise them a bit. So thank you. 🙏💖

I hope you will like them.

As always, I hope you will forgive any potential language mistakes.

NSFW Alphabet | Sebastian Sallow 🔞

⚠️Sexually explicit content | 🔞 | Smut | HC |2,5k words

Summary: Some of my smutty HC about Sebastian Sallow, collected under the "NSFW alphabet" template.

Read on AO3

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sebastian can fuck you relentlessly, make you scream his name, and push you over the edge, but afterwards, he remains extremely attentive. He holds you close, kisses you softly, whispers praise, and caresses you slowly while you catch your breath. Sometimes, he murmurs how much you mean to him, as if afraid to lose you like he lost his family. He may also massage your tired muscles, apply soothing lotion to areas reddened by blows or bites, and make sure you’re well hydrated. His need to protect and care for you is almost obsessive. He loves to see you relaxed, exhausted, and satisfied, so he’ll shower you with kisses, sometimes until you’re ready for another round.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sebastian is particularly proud of his hands, which are just as good at wielding a wand as they are at making you come. He loves their versatility: caressing you tenderly, spanking you hard, penetrating you deeply, pinching your nipples, all to play with your pleasure. He also loves to feel the vibrations of your moans under his palm as he grabs you by the throat, controlling your breathing and arousal.

As for your body, he’s obsessed with your bottom. He loves to touch it discreetly as he walks past you, grab it firmly or slap it as he takes you from behind or as you ride him, or simply caress it as you lie against him. What’s more, nothing turns him on more than seeing your bottom redden under his strokes or bounce up and down with every thrust.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Sebastian prefers to cum inside you, deep inside, to mark his territory in the most intimate way possible. The sensation of your walls contracting around him as he pours himself into you is incomparable. But if you want him to cum elsewhere, he also loves to watch you on your knees, mouth wide open, tongue outstretched to receive every drop, or see your body splattered with his cum, especially on your breasts or face. It awakens a primal instinct in him, a pride in seeing you marked by him in this way.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’ll never admit it openly, but the idea of fucking you in a public place, where anyone could catch you in the act, excites him to no end. The thrill of the forbidden, combined with the fear of being caught, increases his desire tenfold. He fantasises about taking you against a wall in a corridor, an empty classroom, or a dark alley. He also dreams of discreetly caressing you under the table, without anyone knowing, leaving you unable to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure he’s giving you.

Finally, he often imagines screwing you so hard that you can hardly walk afterwards, and that everyone can tell.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to what you might think, he didn’t have much experience before you. Sebastian's life was entirely governed by his quest to save Anne, his obsession with dark magic, and the scars left by Solomon's death, Anne's rejection, and Ominis' estrangement. Burdened by so much suffering, he never had the time or emotional space to think about romance or physical pleasure before you. However, his natural curiosity and passion for learning have enabled him to be an attentive lover, experimenting and honing his skills to find out what makes you tick. So, his fingers, his tongue, his cock—he tested everything on you to understand how to make you come repeatedly.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Sebastian loves to possess you in doggy-style. He loves to see you on all fours, arched over, exposed to him. One of his greatest pleasures is to grab your hips firmly and pull you against him, sinking deep into you again and again. He relishes the way your body trembles under the impact of his thrusts. But what he loves most of all is wrapping your hair around his fist, pulling it back to force you to lift your head, all the while whispering obscene words in your ear. The total control he has over you in this position excites him like never. He never gets tired of your buttocks slamming against him, the sound of your bodies colliding and your muffled moans.

Then he loves it when you ride him. Seeing your body move on top of him, your tits bouncing with every movement, drives him absolutely crazy. He watches you rub up against him, guiding you up and down his cock, adjusting the angle to get to the places that make you scream. He loves the way you think you’re holding the reins, when he always ends up gripping you by the hips to go faster, harder, until you’re both overwhelmed with pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Even though he’s often intense and serious during sex, Sebastian has a mischievous side that also comes out when he’s intimate. He can’t help teasing you. He laughs softly when you become impatient, or when you beg him to go faster. He may also tickle you or tell a joke at the worst possible moment just to throw you off balance a little before fucking you even harder.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sebastian doesn’t really have strict rules about this. He keeps his private hair neat, but doesn’t touch the hair on his chest, or the fine line of hair that runs from his navel to his bush. Also, he doesn’t care whether or not you’re waxed. As long as he can lick you, fuck you, and make you come, he’s perfectly happy. However, he does like to grab your hair during the act, pulling it slightly to force you to tilt your head, exposing your neck to his possessive kisses and bites. And he loves it when your hands grip his as he eats you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.)

Sebastian loves to see you vulnerable, especially when you’re under him, breathless and trembling with pleasure. He likes to whisper dirty words in your ear as he thrusts deep inside you, just to feel your body react to his every word. Even in his most brutal moments, he still looks at you with that all-consuming desire that shows you mean the world to him.

J = Jack off (HC masturbation)

Sebastian has no problem with pleasuring himself when you’re not around, especially if he’s overwhelmed with desire for you. He may even let his mind wander to the intimate moments you’ve shared to increase his pleasure (your lips around his cock, for example, or your throbbing pussy as he impales you against a wall). When he’s particularly excited, he may even masturbate in front of you, enjoying watching you become eager and aroused as you watch him pleasure himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sebastian loves to dominate. He loves rough sex, making you bend under him, seeing you on your knees sucking him off while he controls the pace and depth by grabbing your hair. He loves that you’re totally at his mercy, whether it’s through handcuffs or orders. But he also likes the idea of a brief resistance, forcing you to give in to him, and the moment you let go makes him even harder.

Sebastian has a strong breeding kink. The idea of filling you up and knowing he could get you pregnant drives him mad. He gains a primal satisfaction from the thought of you carrying his child, especially after everything he’s lost. It’s not just about marking you as his, but more about creating something permanent, a family—something he’s craved ever since losing his parents and Anne.

The way your body changes during pregnancy only intensifies his desire. He finds you even more irresistible, the sight of your round belly, where his baby is growing, exciting him beyond reason. He loves being the one to satisfy all your needs while you’re vulnerable, taking special care to ensure your comfort but never holding back on intensity. During sex, he loves trying new positions that suit your changing body, and Sebastian can spend hours worshipping your pregnant form, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he desires you.

He also has a weakness for role-playing games, especially those where he can reverse the dynamic and explore scenarios where one of you is in a position of weakness or submission.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

As much as he enjoys the safety of your bedroom, Sebastian can find carnal pleasure in unexpected places. Whether it’s in an empty classroom, against a tree in the Forbidden Forest, or even in a cramped bathtub, every place has its charm as long as he can hear you moan his name without restraint.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything about you is a source of motivation for Sebastian. Your perfume, the way you run your tongue over your lips, the subtle movement of your hips, it all drives him crazy. But what probably turns him on the most is when you turn into a naughty girl. He loves the defiant look in your eyes when you try to take control, or when you provoke him, knowing full well he’ll punish you for it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He likes to push your buttons, but respects your limits. He’s a possessive guy who doesn’t like anyone else intruding on your intimate moments, either.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sebastian is as talented with his mouth as he is with his hands. He’s obsessed with making you come using his tongue. He loves to hear you moan under the deft movements of his mouth, watching you writhe in pleasure as he licks you relentlessly. Of course, receiving oral pleasure is just as enjoyable, especially when he sees how much you love having it in your mouth, your eyes gazing into his as he reaches down your throat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sebastian is an intense and passionate lover, often preferring a fast and determined pace, as his desire could wait no longer. That said, he knows how to adapt to your needs, slowing down if he senses you want something gentler.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sebastian loves quickies, especially when the urge is too strong. He won’t hesitate to shag you quickly in a dark corner or a broom cupboard, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans as he penetrates you with brutal urgency, reaching orgasm in a matter of minutes before you go back to business as usual.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Sebastian loves risk. Whether it’s trying new things or pushing the boundaries of what’s socially acceptable, he loves exploring with you. For him, sex is as much about pleasure as it is about challenge, and he loves pushing the boundaries with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Sebastian is tireless, capable of satisfying you several times in one night! Even after he’s released, he’s often ready for another round after a brief rest.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sebastian is open to using toys to increase the intensity of your sessions. He likes to use enchantments on you, placing his vibrating wand of magic against your clitoris as he penetrates you, or using it to torture you during foreplay. Ties, light whips, and even gags are also among the accessories he uses.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease?)

If you’ve been a bad girl or provoked him, Sebastian can be terribly unfair, loving to torture you slowly, make you beg and cry in frustration. He often does edging, bringing you close to orgasm several times, then depriving you of your pleasure just before you explode, until you’re a desperate wreck, begging for release.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sebastian is quite vocal, groaning and grunting with every move. When he’s close to orgasm, his moans become hoarse. But his favourite part is hearing your screams, moans, and every sound that escapes your mouth. He wants you to be loud, to let everyone know how much he’s driving you crazy.

W = Wild card (a random HCs)

-Sebastian likes to surprise you. Whether it’s initiating an unscheduled session in an unlikely location, using a prop you weren’t expecting, or dominating you in a new way, he always likes to maintain an element of mystery and surprise. For example, he might walk into the room, pin you up against a wall and fuck you without warning, or wake you up by eating or fucking you, just to see your face overcome with pleasure as you wake up. He also knows you like it when he loses control, and sometimes he lets you dominate him and do what you want with him.

-When Sebastian is overwhelmed by anger or frustration, especially due to memories of Anne or the guilt of having killed his uncle, he sometimes turns to sex as an outlet. In those moments, he is more intense, even bordering on brutal, but always in control of his actions. Afterwards, he becomes extremely tender, almost guilty for having let himself go, but also deeply grateful that you're there to soothe him and that you accept him, even with his darker sides.

-One of the consequences of the losses he has suffered is that he becomes very possessive. He likes to mark his territory on your body, whether with bites, scratches, or ensuring you bear the marks of your sessions the next day. He needs to know that you belong to him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sebastian is slim and toned, with skin covered in freckles, more concentrated in areas that are often exposed to the sun. He also has a few scars, left over from duels and training sessions. He’s not particularly imposing, but he has charisma to spare, with an intensity in his gaze that melts you completely. Down below, he’s well proportioned, with a tail of average length but thicker so you can feel every movement and pulse. He loves to see how your body reacts when he penetrates you, to feel your drenched walls stretch around him. It’s an attribute he’s proud of because he knows exactly how to use it to get you where he wants you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sebastian has an uncontrollable libido, especially with you. Sometimes he’s so obsessed with making love to you he can’t concentrate on anything else until that need is met. He wants you constantly, and his body reacts to the slightest of your provocative gestures. Even a simple smile or caress can make him hard, and he’s often ready for action at the first opportunity. Also, he’s not afraid to express his desire for you, even in inappropriate situations. He’s sometimes amused to see you embarrassed, knowing full well that he’ll get what he wants in the end.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sebastian can be exhausted after sex, especially if you’ve spent most of the night making each other come. But he refuses to go to sleep unless you’re satisfied. He always makes sure you’re comfortable, that you’ve got everything you need before finally drifting off to sleep, often with you snuggled up against him, his hand still possessive over your body.

[sevprince-91]

Do you know anyone from a research field of any sort, and has access to WILEY for articles that do not have free access?

I desperately need to search for my dissertation.

[moonyspupp-deactivated20250508]

You just don’t listen do you?

Severus snape X f!Reader smut

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My first fanfic on here!

CW: teacher student relationship (reader is of age!) breeding, minor name calling, SMUT

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While your many years at hogwarts went by very quickly, it feels like only yesterday you first stepped foot onto the grounds. Even though you had to stay an extra year due to poor marks, you loved hogwarts the same nevertheless. With all the laughter and excitement you shared with your classmates and friends these years, your mind was always occupied with the thoughts of your potions teacher;

Severus Snape

You weren’t sure what about him caught your eye, all you knew was that you wanted him, badly. None of your friends knew about your secret desire or you could even say , the hots for your teacher, how could you ever confess to that? But as your final year at the school comes near, there’s a dreadful realization that once you’re graduate, that’s it for your little dream when it came to him. As you daydream about graduation day and the fact you’ll leave everything in this school behind very soon, sooner than you realize. You’re suddenly brought out of your trance as Professor Snape smacks the back of your chair with his book.

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"Daydreaming again, Miss (L/N)?" he asks, his voice heavy with irritation.

My eyes snap open, the force of the smack bringing me back to reality. I look up to see Professor Snape looming over my desk, his lips curled into a sneer. I shake awake at his words; now fully processing it. “Oh shit..” I mutter . The class now quiet now as no one dared to say a word; the only sounds that could be heard were the bubbling cauldrons

“I-im sorry sir, im just a bit tired today” I say stuttering from embarrassment

“Well obviously you’ve been tired for the past three weeks , obvious by looking at your marks” Snape says harshly giving my seat another quick smack. I nearly jump in my seat , not daring to meet his gaze, I slightly tremble not knowing what to say next; what he would say next . “See me after class miss (L/N), at this rate I’ll be surprised to see you graduate this school” he says nearly snarling “I would hate to have you again as a student.” The class is still dead silent, as if everyone’s waiting for something to happen. “Yes sir” I say muttering trying my best not to make it so obvious I was beyond embarrassed at the confrontation about my marks. Snape eyes me up and down before returning back to the front of the class, his dark robes trailing near his feet as he walked briskly. For the rest of the class period, i try my best to focus on the lecture, but i can't shake the feeling of the embarrassment I faced earlier. Every time you glance at Snape, i can feel his gaze on me, like a hawk watching its prey. I thought to myself, “I knew I wanted his attention but this is NOT what I meant..” I tap my foot against the cobblestone floor nervously, keeping my eyes down either at my shoes or my empty notes.

As the class comes to an end, the students pack up their things and start to leave. My friends give me a look of nervousness, I knew I had to stay back but the fact it was going to be just me and him alone in the classroom was so terrifying but somehow it wasn’t in a scary way. Snape's voice rings out, stopping me in your tracks as i attempted to leave the classroom before he could see.

"Not you, Miss (L/N). Don’t forget you’ll be staying behind today."

I let out an annoyed groan before I turn around and face him, the realization that the only two people in this now empty classroom were you and him.

Your potion teacher, the one teacher you had the hots for

I feel my face slightly flush at the thought. The room was quietly; the only sound my nervous breaths in the still air. Snape stands at his desk, idly straightening some papers, his dark eyes never leaving you. I feel his eyes almost burning into me, even though i didn’t look up once after we were alone, i could just feel it. I take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row.

"You've been struggling in my class for quite some time," he says, his voice low and stern. "Why do you think that is?"

“I’m just a bit scared that I’ll graduate soon sir.” I let out a nervous laugh, I tap my foot on the floor once again but this time even faster. Snape's eyes narrow slightly and he stops straightening the papers, his full attention now on me.

"Is that so?" he says, his voice neutral. "You think that's a valid excuse for your poor performance in my class?" Snape stands up and walks around the desk, his footsteps echoing in the silent classroom. He stands directly over me, his body just a few inches away from mine. I'm not one to tolerate excuses, Miss (L/N). I expect excellence from all my students, and you haven't been living up to those expectations.” He snarls

I shake at his words, he’s never scolded me in such a way like this other than today, sure he’s called me out in class for sleeping or missing notes, but never this way, never this close. I couldn’t shake the feeling of fear and somehow, desire as well. For a few seconds longer I let my thoughts dwell until I bring myself to answer, “I apologize sir it’s just-“

He cuts me off slamming both his hands on the desk, the sound nearly echoing in the room. “I don’t want to hear any of your excuses” he groans, his facial expression changing to one that’s obviously more irritated. “I’ve heard it all before, you think I’ve never had a student who couldn’t care less about my class Miss (L/N)? You wouldn’t be the first he hisses” He says his eyes fixing on me.

“But sir that’s not it I swear to Merlin, I’ve just been distrac-“ I say frantically trying to prove to Snape wrong. Snape's hand reaches out quick and grips my chin, gripping it tightly and forcing me to look into his eyes. His eyes burn into mine as his face was mere inches away.

"You've been distracted?” he asks sarcastically , his voice a low growl. "It's a wonder how you manage to pass your other classes;if you even are at this point, with so much going on in that pretty little head of yours. Tell me, exactly what is causing this... distraction?” I tremble at let out a whimper as I feel his grip tightening on his face, He forces my chin up even higher to try to get an answer out of me. I see Snape’s lips curl into a slight smirk, my breathing became more unsteady by the second , as I feel my desire and arousal growing.

“Nothing sir” I say looking scared

Snape backs me up to his desk. “You must think I’m stupid little girl, do you really think I was born yesterday?

I see the way you look at me in class, this entire year, don’t try to deny it now miss (L/N), look at the way you’re quivering under my touch.” He says his voice trailing off and grip still steady on my neck. My breathing hitches at his words “fuck he’s right” I thought to myself. I feel my brows furrowing and my face becoming hotter by the second. I stir slightly at his grip needing more, more of his touch, I accidentally let out a soft moan. Snape nearly flinches at the sudden sound.

Your moan sent a shiver down Snape’s spine. He can feel your body responding to his presence, the combination of fear and desire making both of your heads spin. He eventually releases my chin and moves even closer to me, his body now pressed against mine. His hand shaking around my waist with a grip that was almost painful and apparent with desire.

"I know what you want little girl," he whispers in my ear, his voice low and seductive. "And I have just the way to get you to admit it." My arms wrap around his neck to bring him closer. Merlin you just had to feel more of him..

He nips at my earlobe, his teeth biting at my skin. The feeling goes straight to your core, and I can't help the small gasp that escapes my lips. I feel my legs shaking around his waist. I breathe heavy in his ear, my face turning even more red at the realization that he hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m acting this way.

Snape lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on you. "Hush" he says, his hand moving to grip your hip. "No sounds until I tell you, if you want to misbehave in my class then you’ll have to work for your pleasure. Bad girls don’t get rewarded."

“Yes sir” I say shaking

He shifts himself so I can wrap around him better, I can feel his hard length lining up with my core. I grip his robes tightly as I feel it throb under his pants, the desires I’ve had are slowly becoming a reality, I have a hard time accepting that and my brain feels as it’s nearly melting at this point. I hear him groan as the readjusted position seems to have an effect on him too. I lightly squeeze my legs together and push myself further down onto his hardness just to be a bit of a tease to him.

I feel his grip on my hips tighten , his nails digging into the flesh of my thigh. His hand comes back up to grip my chin once more, “you minx” he hisses before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was possessive and rough, I moan as I feel him hold me tighter against him. His tongue slips into my mouth, it feels demanding, dominating even, I give into the feeling and let myself be devoured in that moment. It nearly feels like forever until I pull away from the kiss slightly to meet his gaze, breathing heavily with a moan in between each breath.

With my swollen parted lips and my eyes slightly heavy with lust “Professor” I say huffing with desire “Ravage me.” His eyes widen at your words, a hungry grin spreading across his face. "You don't know what you're asking for, Miss (L/N). Are you sure you can handle it?"

“Please!” I say nearly whining, my heads thrown back and my legs are shaking now more than ever. I feel the desire pooling in my core making it impossible to speak properly, all my words come out in almost a babble, but deep in my head I know I’ve entered dangerous territory, but you can't help yourself. You want this, you want him.

Snape smirks, his grip on you tightening. "Very well," he says, his voice a dangerous growl. "I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."

I can barely prepared what happens next until I feel him spin me around and pins me against his desk. His body pressed against mine even harder than before, his hands roaming over my body, his lips finding my neck once again.

"You asked for this," his voice a low growl. "And I'll give it to you, all of it.”

I moan loudly at the sudden feeling , my backside now exposed to him, I feel my legs slightly kick and twitch in anticipation.

Snape runs two fingers up and down my soaked panties then pulls them to the side, my body shakes slightly at the pleasure, I subconsciously let my moans out. I feel a tight grip on my hair then my head being pulled back, I hear him whisper; voice dripping like sweet dark desire. “I thought I made myself clear when I said to hush?”

“m so sorry sir! ” I say with slight tears welling up in my eyes. He brings his face closer to my bare neck and I feel his lips biting on my exposed skin. I cover my mouth with one of my hands to muffle any potential moans that could come next. I shut my eyes and let my body accept the feeling.

“Such a greedy thing” he whispers in my ear as his grip on me tightens. I can only whimper in response“So bold of you to tell me to ravage you. You don't even know what you're asking for." His whisper turning a primal growl. I moan into my hand once more nodding feverishly, my body responding to his every touch and every word. His hand moves back down to my ruined panties, his grip tight and possessive on me. "But I'm going to give it to you, darling," he hisses. "And you're going to take whatever I give you, aren't you?"

“Yes professor!” I cry out, my hips moving against his hands greedily. I feel my heart racing, my head is spinning, and I can barely think straight. I hear him laugh, his hand continue down its path down your body. He tugs at the hem of your skirt, his breath hot on your ear.

"I thought so,” he whispers. “You’re trembling so much dear, you want this more than you'd like to admit, don't you?"

“Yes sir” I say burying my face into my arms shyly. My body still violently shaking with pleasure and embarrassment. I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling followed by the sound of fabric hitting the floor, he slips off my ruined panties as well. I nearly wince at the feeling of Snape rubbing the swollen head of his cock up and down my leaking slit. I moan loudly at the feeling and feel a sharp slap come down onto my behind. I arch my back at the sudden pain and shriek.

“You just never listen do you Miss(L/N)?”

“Please professor I can’t take it anymore” I say tears running down my face now. “Im begging you please” I could no longer create coherent thoughts and all the words that came out of my mouth became nothing but babbling.

Snape chuckles “Then let it all out then dear.”

I feel him push past my fold, sheathing his entire length into my tight insides. I let out almost a scream at the feeling of pleasure. “Professor!” I say crying out , I throw my head down even lower, not being able to keep it up any longer. He leans over my back and moans, “fuck, you’re so tight. It’s like your body was made for me to claim” He groans. He was now balls deep in me, I shake at the feeling of being stretched out so much and by the man I wanted so badly. He kissed and bites my shoulders and back wildly as he pounded me hard and primal into his desk. I felt my back arch as he gripped my hips tight and thrusted even harder. “You’re so perfect..” I heard him mutter under his breath as he moaned. “more please sir I can take it” I say babbling , gripping onto the edge of the desk for dear life. Snape happily obliges, I feel my insides nearly split open as he continues his rough pounding. Hearing his guttural moans sends me over the edge.

His grip comes up to my throat , the gasp that came out my mouth sounded strangled yet full of pleasure. I feel another sharp slap come down my ass. “Fuck!” I scream out

My potions teacher was ravaging my pussy, using my body.

My eyes begin to roll back into my skull as I let him do as he pleased with my body. I felt my desires begging to turn primal, “Professor breed m’ please” I said barely holding onto my composure. A dribble of drool began to seep its way out of the corner of my mouth as I huffed. Snape come undone by my pleas and need to be bred.

I hear his breathing hitch into gasps, I feel him trembling as he continued to pound behind me as I heard him speak “ you’re sure love? You want to take that chance? You’re willing to let me breed you? Without any protection?”

Though I couldn’t see behind me I still felt a smile creep onto Snapes face. “Yes please breed me professor let m’ have your children! I cried out” , whining at the need to be filled to the brim with his cum, to carry and become round with his children. All the thoughts and pleasure overstimulated me to the point where the only thing I could do was moan,whimper, and drool.

Snape fucks me even harder , the desk below me starts to creak and thump against the floor. I moan loudly at his brutal rough thrusts. “Gonna fill you up so full with my cum darling” “gonna be so fucking pretty with your belly full with my children, you’d want that wouldn’t you slut?” He asks , “yes please don’t stop” I babble not being able to lift my head up to speak properly. “

he groans at my fucked state, “gonna cum “ he mutters. I feel his grip on my hips becoming tighter, his nails digging into my behind, his thrusts became more and more sloppy by the second, “m’ too sir “ I say muttering; my brain nearly fried at that point. The volume of our moans combined eventually spilt us both over the edge. I feel Snape feel my warm cunt up full with his hot potent seed. Afterwards I felt him lean over my back for quite a while , obviously tired from that entire ordeal, maybe even a hint of hesitation when it came to pulling out played a part in that.

Eventually he did, drops of his seed dripped onto the floor under us, the withdrawal made me whimper at the loss of what made me feel full. Snape and I take another moment to collect our composure. He sets me upright on his desk and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

“Gorgeous girl..” he mutters , I smile at his words , “I’ve always wanted to do that” I say shyly

“I know” Snape says buckling his pants again.

I give him a pout at the fact he didn’t play along, “can I stay with you for tonight sir?” He rolled his eyes and nodded. I slip my underwear back on and readjust my skirt and top, I grab onto his arm, “don’t pretend like you don’t like me sir, I know you’ll miss me once I graduate” I say still giving him a pout.

He gives me an irritated look but I could sense a slight bit of affection through it

“I’ll still be seeing you after you’re graduated.”

I give him a sweet smile now holding onto his hand as he led me through the corridors to his quarters..

[slytherizz]

Fight or Flight - Sebastian Sallow/F!MC

Summary: Sometimes sleeping dogs don't lie.

Two years after his uncles death and with Anne missing the last remaining Auror who scents deception requests a testimony from the only person witness to what really happened between Sebastian and Solomon in the catacombs that day. In a bid to protect those memories and keep him out of Azkaban their marriage is arranged - A marriage Sebastian is hell bent on putting a stop to.

Word count: 15,000 (remember when I said I’d keep it under 10k)

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Angst, Masturbation, First Time

Link: You can find the complete fic on Ao3.

A/N: Sebastian ‘my wife’ Sallow. To the anon who requested this, I’m sorry it’s so late but it was so much fun to write.

Sebastian is almost certain he’d been on the receiving end of a lethal confundus charm. Either that or he was at present suffering a massive life altering haemorrhage somewhere amongst the sun deceptively warming his cheeks and the familiar groan of the dragon bones anchored above them, as it tilted its great head in greeting when they'd arrived in Hecate's office. Full of mysterious tombs and the lingering scent of smoke. Ash trampled so tightly into the grooves in the floorboards he doubted even the house elves could scour out the smell. 

He’d gotten too comfortable. No. Down right complacent as of late and now his psyche in a riotous act of self-preservation was giving him a blistering slap back into reality. 

Pull yourself together. 

Sebastian dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. He hissed at the sharp pain as he broke the skin. Felt the blood prickle hot against his sweat slicked palms as it beaded along the thin superficial wound. Uncomfortable. Stinging. And far, far too real. 

“What-?” he managed to croak around a lump in his throat. Praying to Merlin that if this wasn’t a dream it was some elaborate and albeit cruel practical joke. 

“Spousal Privileges,” Hecat repeated. Matter of fact. Her features were drawn and to his dismay betraying no hint of amusement. 

Sebastian choked violently on his own saliva. A hacked cough, raw against his throat. As if the wind had been knocked out of him by a patient and vindictive phantom.

“What this means is you couldn’t be forced to give a testimony or surrender any memories pertaining to anything to do with Mr Sallow. With his sister still missing, the only people who know what really happened in that catacomb are the two of you. If you can’t be forced to corroborate this theory that has been gaining traction at the Ministry that’s the way it stays,” his professor continued to address the witch beside him, unmoved by the blood draining rapidly from his face. 

Her eyes were fixed intently on Hecat, chin raised as she refused to meet Sebastian’s increasingly panicked eye. He shifted in his seat towards her. Turning rapidly back and forth between her and their professor. 

Waiting. A heartbeat and then more passed. Mounting up until it became a deafening drum in his ears. 

He wanted her to laugh. Let it loose. Burst the dangerous tension mounting with every second this insanity stretched on for. Most pathetically of all - he wanted her to save him. Wanted to watch her face crease with laughter at the absurdity of what Hecat was saying. Cling to some sense of normalcy, her stability by his side whilst the rest of him was spiralling out of control.

She was uncharacteristically still in her chair. As frozen as the statue of the mourning lover in the courtyard. Her fist clenched so tightly in the pleats of her skirt her knuckles blanched. A half finished braid she’d been fiddling with behind her ear hung abandoned. Not a shadow of humour remaining. 

“Why now? It’s been years since…”  she asked, with a more measured tone Sebastian felt the situation did not warrant.

She spared him a glance which did little to put him at ease. If anything the serious crease to her brow set him on a razor's edge. 

Sebastian was unravelling. The thread he’d used to stitch back together a semblance of a life was pulling apart at an alarming rate. And the only two people who had any hope of holding him back together were entertaining this insanity. 

“Some of Miss Sallow’s effects were uncovered at the former Feldcroft residence. It seems no one had tended to the home since your Uncle passed…unexpectedly. My contact at the Ministry informs me that there's only one Auror pushing for those memories. Sergeant Tuttle. Old guard. Worked closely with your uncle when they were both juniors in the department. The rest are happy to let Solomon’s memory remain as it has been for the past two years - the heroic final act protecting his young charges from a horde of uncontrollable inferi,” she paused and Sebastian felt the weight of every word. “Personally I am inclined to agree.”

Hecate’s already thin lips pulled so tight they almost entirely disappeared. Her inscrutable brown eyes peeling back the curtain seeing far beyond the truth to the crux of him. Weighing his mettle. And he wasn’t sure she’d be impressed at what she found. 

Because what he was - was careless. Sebastian supposed he could argue that his distress over losing his sister had made it too painful to return. Knowing Anne was not there, Feldcroft seemed rather pointless. 

But really all he’d been was too eager to turn his back on that hovel that had never been his home. Ivy grew thick over its stones and he hoped one day it would pull it down entirely. No one had touched the wards in over a year. Perhaps when he’d boxed up his feelings and shoved them away in his desperation to move past what he had done, he didn’t consider the possibility that there were others out there who, unlike him, may not want to move on so hastily from Solomon's death. 

Anne certainly hadn’t. 

“With you two being so close, this is the cleanest option-” Hecate continued. 

“I don’t bloody care about clean!” Sebastian broke from his stupor. Fist slamming on the table rattling the spoon from where it rested against his saucer. “Tell me the other options. I don’t care how messy they are. I’ll do them.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” Hecat said sharply. “This is your only option. And you’d do well not to leap to such dramatics if you want this to work, Mr Sallow. In particular I’d advise against taking such a tone with me.” 

Sebastian didn’t care. He’d already geared up to argue back against this preposterous idea when the statue of the witch beside him suddenly came to life. As if Pygmalion himself had loved her into life just to spite Sebastian. 

“We’ll do it,” she said firmly. 

Sebastian choked again, head snapping to look at her. “You can’t be serious!” 

She simply glared back at him, as if he wasn’t the only reasonable person left in the room. “I’ve kept you out of Azkaban this long-“

Their professor cleared her throat, having little patience for the squabblings of teenagers that was beginning to unfold in her office. It set Sebastian even more on edge. She’d thrown a bomb into their lives and was now regarding him as some petulant child causing a scene. As if instead while he was scrambling to hold it together she expected him to thank her for it. 

“I’d choose your words more carefully in front of an audience but I admire the passion. If you want this to succeed you’ll have to make them believe this. Believe you. You can’t cast any doubt on the reason for any of it. A young couple, so in love they simply cannot wait to be married.”

***

It was like taking a match to a forest doused in kerosine. How quickly word could spread overnight when students kept such close quarters and they were eager for anything to save them from revision. Whispers billowed up from steeped mugs. Steam laced with secrets curled around their lips. Huddled so tightly together they looked like hydras. Each set of eyes alight with amusement. Teeth bared ready to feast on their speculation. 

From the moment Sebastian had stepped into the Great Hall he’d felt it. The oppressive shift to the atmosphere that usually welcomed him each morning. Clouds dark, heavy with the foreboding rain swirled on the enchanted sky. At least it was fitting.

Instinctively he sought her out. Looked for hers amongst the hundreds of eyes turned towards him. Which he pointedly ignored instead following the remaining half who stole glances towards her. 

Blue. Green. Brown. Shifted between them assessing to see what they might do. 

She was boxed into the middle of the table by Onai and Sweeting with Reyes taking up the spot across from them. A vicious hound guarding her flock ensured even the most brazen little wretch who considered interrupting would think twice - give her wrath a wide berth. 

Reyes to her credit - snarling banshee that she was - looked as deeply horrified by the pathetic silver band on her friend's finger as Sebastian felt it deserved. 

They’d transfigured it hastily from a pair of silver spectacles once they’d stumbled out of Hecat’s office the previous evening. One she kept in an odd tangle of items in her satchel and the rushed magic had already begun to tarnish its appearance. It was a wonder anyone actually believed them with how dull and thoughtless it looked sitting on her hand. 

If her smile wasn’t so tight, or her laugh a little too airy she would be executing Hecat’s ludicrous scheme to perfection. 

Sebastian swallowed around the lump in his throat and sheepishly changed course. Rerouted himself away from the group of witches throwing his bag down on the bench and slumping into a seat at the Slytherin table. Which seemed to delight some of the onlookers. Clearly humiliation was a good seasoning for eggs, he thought as he poured himself a cup of tea from the pot and took out his potions essay in an attempt to look busy enough no one would suspect exactly why he was sitting alone. Or worse, try and talk to him. Not that they would dare when his face looked as thunderous as the sky overhead. It didn't, however, stop him from overhearing their animated gossiping. 

‘Do you think she’s…you know?’ 

‘Obviously! Who in their right mind gets married a month before they leave school? Clearly they’re in a rush before she starts to y’know...’ one girl smirked with an exaggerated flourish over her stomach.

Sebastian shot a glare across to the gaggle of Ravenclaw’s in the year below. Who giggled even more loudly when they caught his eye, one turning pink from the tips of her ears to well past the neckline of her jumper. Sebastian on the other hand felt like someone had doused him in a bucket of water from the lake. 

If Reyes didn’t skin him for the insulting piece of jewellery she certainly would if she suspected he’d gotten her favourite flying partner up the kyte. 

Sebastian tried to focus on his potions essay. List even a single ingredient of ‘Felix Felicis’ which was proving to be impossible when behind him a brazen fourth year proclaimed and loudly he’d caught them sequestered away between the stacks of the restricted section - her body bent over a desk. Sebastian’s grip on the quill tensed as he strained himself to write the differing effects between wyrm and dragon scale on a potion - and not a very vivid description of what he apparently looked like on his knees buried between her thighs. Ink blotted on the parchment. 

Sod Hecat on ‘selling it’. Why did they need to go to such lengths when apparently every gossiping vulture was content to click their beak and do all the work for them? 

Surely Azkaban couldn’t be worse than this? 

Well, that was delusional - but if he overheard one more person comment on if her robes looked bigger he was more than likely going to do something that would get him thrown in Azkaban regardless. 

Sebastian had anticipated suspicion but he still wasn’t prepared for how much it would chafe. 

He knew if they were not at the centre of this farce, the two main players on the stage they would have jovially picked apart their performance too. She would have speculated over their sanity as she picked idly at her cauldron cake. Made some snide comment about being too eager to get his leg over. He’d bet her a galleon they’d see the proof in nine months and she would have snorted, undignified unladylike into her pumpkin juice. 

Being the subject of this speculation however was mortifying. 

Would that be next? Bringing a child into the fucking mess he’d made just to cover his own back? If the thought of dragging her into a marriage him feel ill it paled in comparison to the feeling of crippling dread that conjured. 

But would she want that one day? In a young witch's sacrifice to keep him had she truly considered all the things she was giving up in his stead. Things she may not know she even wanted until the opportunity had already been bartered and sold off for the price of his freedom. What kind of man was he to take the hope of any kind of family from someone who already had none to show for it? Take away the chance for someone to love her. 

Or maybe she never intended to give up on that particular dream. And Sebastian would be expected to play his part - the cuckolded husband. 

Work late until the candles burned down to the wick to give her lover time to retreat. Share her with one; or with many. 

Vow now to never let her go without. 

Even go as far as to raise her children as his own. Glamour their cheeks with foreign freckles he’d wish were inherited. Brand them with the Sallow name with ink on thin parchment but not their blood; their ties to him just as flimsy and performative as hers.

Her easy smile as she lathered honey onto her toast set his teeth on edge. Sebastian felt in that moment like he never really knew her at all. Head pounding Sebastian stuffed his ink pot and notes back into his bag. Abandoned his breakfast in a rush to get out of the stifling hall. Away from the whispers that he knew would also be deafening in her ears. Perhaps even more so.

‘I didn’t even know they were courting. It’s a shame he’s off the market.’

‘Here’s the thing - I don’t think they were. Clearly, he’s marrying her to do the right thing. Now that she’s trapped him with a baby.’

She caught his eye, her eyebrows stitched together in concern but it did not offset the rigid lock of her furious ticking jaw. Teeth set, clamped together as if Hecat had clamped a muzzle on a fucking dragon and then handed her chains to Sebastian. 

Shamefully, he couldn’t bring himself to hold her gaze. Couldn’t even bear to face her in that moment despite knowing he was the reason she had to listen to these lies spread. He should tell her he was sorry. But instead he fled. 

Complete fic can be found on Ao3.

[newbienewness]

❤️💚💙

[crvcioking-deactivated20241031]

I’ll Fuck the Depression Out of You

Professor!Sebastian Sallow x FemaleStudent!Reader

Minors do not interact.

Professor Sallow knows exactly how to cheer up his perfect little student; the two indulging in their usual sexual acts. It was the only way she knew how to counter the depression. Getting fucked by her favorite professor. The only man to make her feel anything else and he certainly didn’t mind. As she was the only woman to make him feel alive again.

Warnings: Age gap, size difference, unprotected sex. Just jumping straight into the smut. PWP ish.

There is fluff too.

Disclaimer: University AU; characters are adults. This is just a work of fiction.

Divider Credit: @/thecutestgrotto

Sliding in and out of her slick and warm tight heat had him a groaning mess. One strong hand of his, firmly pinned her delicate wrists above her head as he pounded into her with enough force to make the bed creak and almost shift across the wood of the floor.

“Bloody hell… you’re so fucking tight, love.” He rasped out, thrusting with reckless abandon at this point. Making sure that she felt every inch of his cock in that tiny cunt of hers. The other hand gripping her hip strongly, enough to leave a mark.

To go along with the other various marks he left on her earlier; love bites, little bruises. A little pain mixed with the pleasure, just as his petite beauty wanted.

She loved it when he called her ‘love’… or any pet name that felt like a sign of affection. That made her feel utterly wanted by this man, in more ways than one.

“Ngh… mnn… a-ah…”

Incoherent moans and whines escaped her pretty, swollen red lips. Swollen from all the kissing and biting he did previously. Her pleasure reached a new height and he could feel it in the way her pussy wrapped so tightly around his cock, wanting to milk everything out of him.

As his hips kept rocking back and forth, making sure to hit every delicious spot inside of her—he would grind his cock wherever she felt most sensitive. Knowing every part of those warm walls that engulfed him, what made her writhe. To feel destroyed in orgasmic bliss.

A face so innocent; so fine like a porcelain doll yet underneath that mask of flowery visuals was filth. A corruption that she only shared with him, her favorite person in general, not just a professor anymore. Granted, he was the reason she got so corrupted in this world of sexual satisfaction.

“Hngh! S-sir…—” She started whimpering but he stopped her, giving her a forceful deep thrust that hit her womb; which made her cry out.

“Sebastian… sweetheart. You don’t call me that when we’re doing this,” he hissed out, not stopping as she shuddered under him. There were no formalities in this yet she still would accidentally let it out.

“You call me by my name… haa, only my name because right now, we’re two humans, sweetie. Not a professor and student— fuck,” he asserted a bit breathlessly, jaw almost wanting to clench. He couldn’t halt pumping into her; she just took him so well as if he was made to connect with her. He never experienced such fantastic gratification before; never. Only with her.

“After hours… you’re mine,” the utter need in his voice was oozing out and she shivered now. Goosebumps of delight all over her arms; her pussy almost vibrated around his large shaft for a moment.

“That’s right… you felt the truth…” a low growl as he rolled his hips more; his hand squeezing the wrists above her head.

“Mine and I’m yours,” another groan left his mouth. Every urgent movement of his causes a groan out of him and a wanton whine from her.

The tightness of her walls squeezed his cock even more than before; his eyes almost rolled back, “fuck… keep, ah…” he panted, “keep squeezing, such a good girl.”

At the praise, a needy wail came out. He knew she loved it… loved hearing it from his low-toned voice; the Scottish drawl when he was just as wrecked as she was. Her praise kink only made an ego grow; the fact that his words meant so much to her.

“That’s right… my good girl.” He pulled all the way out for a moment; making her hips buck up a little, seeking him out. He smirked then plunged his cock right back in, to the hilt.

“Ohh, gods… Sebastian,” she choked up, eyes rolling back in ecstasy and he almost let out a needy whine at the way she sputtered out his name. His name sounded so beautiful coming from her lips; as if it was a prayer made just for him.

This had become a new recent routine; fucking like frantic lovers who couldn’t get enough. Fucking her until her cruel depression numbed out, making her incapable of feeling anything but him and these moments.

She was his best student, a model example of intelligence and hard work. With that deep set of knowledge came a depression though. The other students envied her for constantly surpassing them in grades. Then it was the way she looked… a haunting little beauty, only planting more seeds of jealousy to grow.

Which had caused her to be quite isolated from the rest of her peers plus she did not think like the rest of her generation did. Loneliness would accompany her, reminding her that she was a misfit. She was somewhat of an old soul as well and Sebastian noticed immediately, slowly getting close to her without meaning to until one day, their desires spilled out in his empty classroom. He would never forget the first time he fucked her… the first time he made her cum and not even once but multiple times. The way her virginity got stretched out by him although he was hesitant that first time. Not wanting to cross that forbidden line despite being adults. Not wanting to hurt her either but he did enjoy being her first. A primal urge had escaped though, unable to resist her. It was those damn stunning eyes… those big, doe-like orbs making him feel like all she saw was him. The disappointment on her face when he resisted a bit at first, trying to hold onto morals. The way she began to accept it and walk away. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel that way.

Not when he needed her too. So he showed his desire again, coaxing hers back out. It was a first time she’d never forget either. A memorable one.

Never did he think… this would happen. A reoccurring routine of ruining her, helping her get out every wild fantasy she ever had but never acted upon. That he’d be fucking this perfect, doll-like young woman frequently. This woman would go far with all the wit she carried but he should have expected it, he thought to himself.

That he’d get to have her in his bed often once the classroom, bathrooms or his private office weren’t enough. That he would feel the way his cock just perfectly molded into the tightness of her—it almost felt like a crime for the sex to be this amazing. And a crime to get to have her always.

The way her tight heat would just swallow his cock up, every single inch until the lewd noises of flesh slapping against her ass would fill the room too.

She was everything, brains and etherealness. Almost a Goddess that he felt lucky to know. Sebastian wanted to worship her, praise her… remind her that she was perfect. Even that raw, dirty side of her was magic. Every part of her soul collided with him, igniting a flame that never burnt out but only grew stronger.

He couldn’t believe that this small Goddess wanted him. He was about twelve years older than her; freckled faced with tired eyes from countless tasks with his job and diving into books and research of his own. He felt his age very slowly catching up to him though he was not old at all. She was twenty years old but still; he thought she should meet a man her age. Someone who would age the same with her, alongside her.

He was devastatingly handsome; everyone knew; the other professors, the other students. Despite the slight cloud of darkness around him, he had the charm and looks. A brain that attracted his perfect doll to him first over anything. The way he’d teach… the way he’d sometimes mix in some fun and banter. He could be serious, lightly aloof yet attentive and engaging. Words flowed out of his mouth so poetically at times; it made her feel like a moth to a flame. Wanting nothing more than to listen to him for hours—he made learning better. His looks were just a bonus. That brown hair, stylized in a slight swoop showed some messiness still. He probably had curls but didn’t know how to properly work them out. That was okay since this worked out too. Deep-set brown eyes that appeared dark but would glow honey-like in the lighting, nice lips; the bottom half was plump. Freckles peppered all over that face like constellations in the night sky. Then that body… strong from his achievements in dueling and such. He was tall and built well as if he was sculpted by the Gods themselves.

Despite being confident and sometimes cocky; he had also been a man with deep insecurities and doubts. Almost feeling as if he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve her. He was a single man; not ever having a serious relationship yet. A man who was once lost in trauma but became a respected professor. He was known for going stoic, being hard to get close to fully. The hardships of life got to him from childhood to now but this woman stepped into his classroom, entered his life, and brought back the soul in him, gradually.

Maybe it was love because it wasn’t only during sex that he felt alive. It was any single moment with her. A person never impressed him as much as she did. It was so much more but those deeper feelings stayed unspoken between them for now.

“How does my perfect girl feel right now?” Words punctuated by his movements, “You better feel nothing but this… hngh, all that sadness, I want it fucked out.”

He hated her depression; didn’t want it to capture her and demolish her down the line—she was made for so much and had proven it. If this was what helped then he promised to her, ‘I’ll fuck the depression out of you.’

Who needed medicine when you had Sebastian Sallow?

Her back arched a bit, her hands trembling in his grasp—mind gone almost fuck dumb as he succeeds in his promise.

“Y-you… I only… feel you…” her broken yet lust-filled voice croaked out, “Sebastian…”

“That’s my princess… so fucking proud,” he beamed almost. “Letting my cock steal away any hurt… letting me fill this sweet little pussy of yours… gods, this pussy that was made to be fucked by me.”

That got her arousal at a fever pitch now; “fuckkkk… Seb…” and his cock almost felt like it grew larger inside her at that reaction. He was absolutely throbbing now.

“Nnn… you like it when I say dirty things to you, don’t you? You like hearing me confess filth… huh?” His eyes darkened slightly as that came out in an almost feral sound.

“Y-yes… yes.” She barely strained out, “I- I do…”

A young woman who can say so many words during class hours; someone so sophisticated… now unable to form many words at all.

Leaning his face down as his thrusts started to get more needy, knowing he would be close soon but he wanted her to cum first—he captured her lips in a burning kiss, tongue diving in to remind himself how divine she tasted. So sweet, like a freshly picked cherry ready to be eaten.

He felt her tongue try to swirl against his in an attempt at dominance. He found it cute, grinning a bit against her lips until he won that battle—showing her who was the dominant one here. Muffled moans came from her throat.

Swallowing up her moans like a starved man who needed to feast on her. His hand on her wrists let go, slipping down to find her perky breast; to knead it. To make sure more parts of her body felt worshipped. Even though he gave her plenty of foreplay and action beforehand, the tender love marks on her body as proof.

With her hands freed, they latched onto his upper body; nails digging in to mark him in scratches he’d proudly wear. He groaned into her mouth, lifting his lips off of her.

“You’re driving me mad, you know that?” His voice rasped more and then he felt it—her cunt tensing up around him; pulsating with need and the way she squirmed with her body… then the look on her face.

He knew what it meant.

He stared at her for a moment; panting harshly as he admired how she would look before coming undone. His eyes trailed down her body… the way she was much smaller than him. His heart rate increased more at the sight. He looked at his cock working into her… the size difference of it all made him feel a bit animalistic.

‘She’s gorgeous… perfect… fuck… how did I get so lucky…’

“That’s it, darling, let go for me.” His voice was hoarse because he knew he would be coming right after her.

“S-Sebastian.. I’m… ah—!” She could barely finish that sentence as the orgasm hit and her release coated him. Her back completely arching in the bed; nails dug in deeper, drawing out a little blood which he didn’t mind.

The flooding sensation of her release pushed him to the edge this time; he pulled his upper body straight up, still rutting into her through her orgasm as he felt himself about to explode. His cock was throbbing so violently now, the buildup forming viscously in his balls. Her body went slightly limp, loosening as her nails left his skin—dropping to her sides, lying on the bed. Her pussy waiting for him to be next, still a bit tight even after she came—always relishing it, the final piece of satisfaction.

“Fuck, where… where do you want me to…” he managed to get most of that sentence out, holding back until she answered. He always asked her… despite the answer being the same every time.

“Inside.” Without hesitation she moaned out, seeing slight stars in her vision.

“With pleasure, love,” and he finally let go. Spilling waves of hot cum into her; making sure to fill her to the brim so that she knows, they belong with each other. That only he can fill her like this. His hips jerked and cock twitched inside as every drop was taken by her. He always had so much cum to give her and hearing that final cry of his name from her when it happened made it end perfectly.

He gently collapsed onto her; their breaths erratic, chests rising up and down, and bodies covered in sweat. Glistening in the light they tried calming down. They felt beyond satisfied and spent—nothing else was in this moment.

He was still buried inside her as he didn’t want a drop of his cum to slip out yet; he thought he could stay inside of her forever.

Oh, how he wished.

His face nuzzled into her neck as he lay there, peppering light kisses when they started regulating their breathing better. Making sure she got delicate aftercare of love, only some small pants and gasps are still around.

“You were amazing… took me so well, as always,” he murmured against her skin and she smiled softly to herself, eyes half-lidded and dazed. A hand of hers moved up to his back, to rub soothingly up and down.

“You’re amazing too… you make me forget the world.” She whispered sweetly and he let out a soft breath against her neck.

“You do the same for me… beautiful.” He whispered back, slowly lifting his face off her neck so he could look at her properly. When he got some strength back, he moved to not smush her with his weight.

She was blushing at the compliment and looked at him with hearts in her eyes. It was at that moment that he realized, he really did love her. He needed to say it, the feeling was gnawing in his chest.

“Gods, I’m in love with you…” The sincerity in his voice was heard, “Not just when we do this… not because of sex, but because it’s you. You make me feel everything…” he took his hand and caressed her cheek tenderly, gazing at her with sheer fondness.

Her heart skipped a beat; a soft exhale escaped as she had waited for that… prayed for those words one day, “I’m in love with you too… there’s nobody but you for me. You make me happy, Sebastian. You make me want to fight in life, you give me strength. I can unapologetically be myself around you.”

His hand trembled a little on her cheek as he melted at her words, “I don’t deserve you but I sure as hell am never letting you go.” A possessiveness overcame him and he pulled out of her, fluids spilling a little to drip down her inner thighs. Had he stared there, he would have gotten hard again but he focused on her eyes, the confessions they finally shared.

He moved to her side, laying down in bed and taking her easily to make her lay on top of him now. Wrapping his strong arms firmly around her waist, “my love.”

She leaned her face to give him a chaste kiss on the lips, whispering against them with the same words, ‘my love.’

Honestly, this was the first smut I wrote & completed. I considered it just a tester… 😅 To see if I could actually write some type of smut lol. A little dip into. I don’t consider this that well written and from my recent fic, you’ve seen the direction I’d kind of like to go in now. Exquisite Hell… is my best work after all.

[brutallyfracturedtrinity-deacti]

Eating The "Kitty", Ominis Gaunt HC 🔞

18+ Smut || MDNI

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Hogwarts Legacy Fandom

All chars are 18+

-Ominis plants slow, languid licks and kisses from your knee to your inner thigh.

-Your panties are stuffed into his pocket while he allows you to keep your skirt on.

- Little nibbles here and there just to hear you gasp. He sports a self satisfied smirk.

-He doesn't ask, he just quietly places his hand in your opposite thigh and presses until your legs are spread wide enough for him to play.

-His kisses are soft and warm as he makes his way to your core.

-He sighs happily when your fingers run through his kempt hair, making it messy and fall into his eyes.

-He kisses all around your pussy, teasing you. Inner thigh kisses, and teasing misses of your core make you whimper with need.

-He uses his fingers to feel where he will kiss next, zoning in on where your core becomes slick.

-He reverently tastes you with small kisses and licks at your opening. He hums pleasantly, gently lapping at where his finger enters you.

-His other thumb presses just above your clit, pulling the skin to expose the nub hidden there.

-He slowly bings his mouth up and kisses your exposed clit. His tongue swipes over it before his soft wet lips encompase it.

-He gives you a gentle suck and lets out the lightest of chuckles when you gasp.

-The power he has over you in the moment, the way you relax your legs further apart causes blood to rush straight to his cock.

-He laves his tongue over your clit while his other finger presses directly against your gspot just inside your slick cunt.

-His finger presses inside you and rubs until your moans are louder and voice pleading.

-Ominis swirls his tongue in a circular motion over the throbbing nub.

-Your encouraging moans, the way you rock your pussy against his face, makes him speed up his ministrations.

-He laps at your pussy with increasing speed. He's so quick against your clit that you gasp, unable to take in a full breath if air.

-Your obvious pleasure makes his cock throb. He groans into your core, licking and sucking expertly with his warm tongue.

-His salvia drips down your pussy, soaking the bed with your mixed passions.

-He knows you're close when your fingers in his hair tighten and your thighs start to shake.

-He wants to say something to encourage you to cum, something dirty like he does when he fucks you. But, he can't bare to be parted from your pussy.

-His nose presses into your mound, tongue swirling just the way you like.

-It doesn't take long for him to bring you to your peak. After previous trials and errors, he knows exactly what to do now to drive you wild.

-He knows your body, knows just how you like to be touched and licked and sucked and fucked.

-You barely manage to warn him that you're cuming before your back arches.

-Ominis moans into your pussy, your clit throbbing against his tongue. He's in heaven, on cloud 9, as you chant his name with each pulse if your orgasm.

-He rides out the waves, lapping at your clit until you start to pull away from his overstimulating touch.

-His mouth moves down, kissing every inch of your pussy until he meets your entrance.

-He takes his time to clean up the mess you've made, lapping at the slick lubricant your body desperately made in hopeful preparation for his cock.

-By the time he's done cleaning you up, your body is already craving another round.

-"Again, my sweet?" He pauses.

-You nod, forgetting yourself before blurting out "Yes, ...please, Ominis."

-A flicker of a perfect gentleman flashes across his face before a devious smile takes over once again "Of course, my Darling."

[bluerainewrites]

Chapter 15

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

12k words. Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tags: NSFW / torture / physical injury / sexual scenes / angst / dark magic

Chapter 15: Love's the Death of Peace of Mind

MC

She had not seen it coming. 

Still rattled by the suspicious robed woman in St Mungo’s, MC had been so eager to get back to Sebastian, the weight of feeling like something could happen pressing on her chest, that she had been distracted. She should have been more prepared, more aware, but when she Apparated into Sebastian’s tent and saw the bed empty, her first thought was not to take out her wand, but to feel a sense of panic. The last 24 hours were beginning to take their toll, and she had been wallowing in her own whirlwind mess of emotions, exhausted.

The camp executioner was a big man, tall and solid, but he could still move with the stealth of a cat. His large, gloved hand had smothered her mouth from behind, his arm wrapped like a crushing snake around her, pinning her arms to her sides as they  Disapparated from the tent. There was no time to take a breath let alone shout a protest, and when they landed, she barely struggled in the executioner’s iron grip, a cold wind whipping at her hair. 

Shock had her rigid, but as she was roughly spun about with the turning of the executioner, her eyes landed on the Sallow twins on the ground. Anne was bound and gagged, Sebastian desperately clinging to her whilst shaking, his face a harsh grimace of pain. Her shock still rang in her ears, but she began to struggle harder against the executioner’s hold, fear creeping like a vine along her spine. 

“There she is,” Rookwood said, stepping into her view. He gave her a reproachful look. “We have been waiting for you, sweet one. Where did you slip off to in the dead of night? Your little bodyguard claims he didn’t know.” 

MC yanked at the hand covering her mouth, quickly trying to get control of her fear as she glared at Rookwood. The executioner freed her mouth, but his hand didn’t go far, it slid down to her throat, clamping it with just enough force to keep her still. She gulped against the leather clad vice, instinctively trying to suck in bigger breaths. She flinched as Rookwood stepped up really close, his hand sliding up her thigh and slipping her wand from its holster. He wiggled it before her eyes with a smile. MC eyed her wand, but kept her mouth tightly clamped shut, her magic already beginning to pull and surge in her blood.

“I’ll be keeping hold of this for the moment, if you don’t mind,” he said smoothly. “We wouldn’t want any more little slip ups like before. Luella is still most upset about her boots.” 

MC’s gaze glanced across to where Luella stood, her wand aimed down towards Anne. She had a different pair of boots on, her coat stylish and clean, hair neatly pinned. Her smile was smug, eyes glittering with triumphant malice as she looked down at Anne. Sebastian held his twin closer, his hands shaking. MC could see the fear in his eyes, but also his fury. 

“What did you do to them?” MC demanded, glaring at Rookwood. 

Rookwood strolled towards the twins, relishing the moment as he nudged his boot against Sebastian’s side. Sebastian flinched, gritting his teeth as he whined in pain. Anne struggled against her bonds, snarling like some kind of beast. 

“Think of it as a warning,” Rookwood said, turning to flash a smile at MC. “I’m not too pleased with how things seem to be happening around here. I thought perhaps a bit of leverage might be in order. I find people are far more cooperative when they have an incentive. Everyone has their weakness, MC. Even you.” 

Fighting against the tremble in her limbs, she tried to twist against the solid mass of the executioner, but a low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and the grip he held on her throat gave a subtle squeeze. “Easy now, little kitten,” he purred near her ear.

Revolted, MC almost gagged, her eyes watering against the chokehold and the stinging chill of the wind. Her magic bubbled and sparked along her veins, a pressure building in her chest. 

“I am doing as you asked,” she gulped, her hands gripping the thick forearm of the executioner. “We found deposits. That’s what you wanted.” 

Rookwood spun to face her fully, stepping up until she could feel the full force of his icy glare. “I did not ask for your impertinence,” he hissed. “You dare to issue orders to me, insult my flesh and blood. Let’s not forget who feeds you, provides shelter to you. You may hold ancient power in your grasp, but without me you are nothing. Just an ex prisoner the Ministry would seek to control. I offer you the chance to become more than what you are, and you disrespect me and mine.” 

MC narrowed her eyes knowing full well that he intended to strip her of everything she had, but she kept her silence. The whispers of her own insecurities began to echo in her head, that feeling of being nothing and nobody. Still trying to grasp who she truly was, Rookwood’s words scraped along sensitive wounds. Her gaze dropped to Sebastian on the ground, the rigid pose of his limbs. She knew how that felt. The torturous, blistering pain. She could see the frustration and fear in his eyes, and knew he would hate feeling so powerless. 

“Why bring them into it? What more do you want?” She asked, craning her neck against the choking grip.

Rookwood leaned even closer, lifting a hand to drag a finger down her cheek. His finger was cold, but smooth. Flinching, she tried to turn her head, but the executioner held her firm, her whole body now shivering with cold and fear. 

“Don’t…don’t touch her,” Sebastian grunted. 

Rookwood’s smile was cold and cruel. “And there it is,” he said softly, stroking her cheek. His eyes wandered lazily over her face. He was far too close. Her heart pounded painfully. “Loyal, protective, Sallow. A man so willing to step foot inside the black walls of Azkaban to retrieve a girl who murdered his own blood, and not for one minute does he seek revenge on you. A man who insists on staying by your side, no matter how menial the task. We find you in his tent, in his bed. You are not just old school chums. I think he has feelings for you, my sweet. Does he love you? I think the real question here is, do you love him?” 

Rookwood grasped her chin, her face and neck now claimed by two ruthless men. She gasped and stared up at him, gritting her teeth against the scream of fearful rage that was building in her throat, her magic blistered but she fought for control. If she let it explode, she could hurt the twins on the ground close by. It would also reveal that she could unleash it without her wand.

“Look at her left hand, father,” Luella urged, her boots scraping on the rough ground as she moved to crouch beside Sebastian, her wand still aimed on Anne. Sebastian cried out as she seized his left wrist, his limbs painfully sensitive to touch, turning his palm upwards to reveal the neat, red welt of his scar. “See? A wound that never fully heals, and she has one to match.” 

“The plot thickens,” Rookwood smirked. His fingers ghosted down her left arm, making her cringe back against the executioner. As MC tried to pull her arm away, Rookwood wrapped fingers like iron around her wrist and wrenched her hand up and out. She made a fist, her eyes stinging with tears as she glared at him. 

“Get off me,” she spat. 

He ignored her, turning his gaze towards Luella. “How sad that she isn’t playing nice,” he said, his voice laced with mocking woe. 

Luella smiled and calmly cast Crucio. Anne screamed against her gag, her whole body arching viciously, her head thrown back. Sebastian screamed, too, trying to comfort his twin, ripping his arm from Luella’s grip to hold Anne. 

MC might hold a bitter resentment towards Anne, but the sight of her twisted agony made her wince, a stray tear sliding down her cheek. Sebastian’s horrified scream echoed in her ears. “Alright, alright,” she gasped, unfurling her fist to expose her left palm. 

Biting back a whimper, she watched as Rookwood traced his cold fingers across her own red scar, his eyes lit with gleeful curiosity. “Such lovely, soft skin you have,” he crooned. “To mark such beauty shows real commitment. I have heard of these blood pacts, but to see one cast in such a young witch is fascinating.” 

MC could hear the twins sobbing on the ground, her own body so rigid, frozen in the moment as she stared at Rookwood. She had known that all this had been too easy. 

“What did you promise him, hmm?” Rookwood asked, tilting his head. “Is it something hopelessly romantic, such as never ending love? A fool’s game if you ask me, destined for failure, and failure isn’t an option when it comes to these pacts. No, I think this was perhaps something a little more in keeping with Sallow’s need for control. He found something pretty and shiny, and never wanted to lose it. Am I right?” 

MC glanced down at Sebastian, saw him stroking his sister’s hair. Anne lay limp in his arms, her breathing laboured. Much more torture, and perhaps she would die. Her physical state was already weakened by her curse. But, then she met Anne’s eyes. Brown eyes so like her twin brother, glaring up at MC from where she was held against Sebastian’s chest, lids narrowed as they blazed with ferocity. No. That bitch had an inner strength that made her cling to her pathetic life with a death grip, her stubbornness matched only by the twin she seemed determined to control. 

Hardening her gaze, she glared at Rookwood. “I can only assume you know little about love,” she said flatly. 

Rookwood laughed, his shoulders shaking as it bubbled up his throat. He let her go, twirling around, arms out as he laughed at the sky. “Ah, but there is nothing quite like the bold and heedless recklessness that comes from young love,” he crowed, theatrical as ever. “And that is where your weakness lies. Your feelings towards young Mr Sallow will be your undoing.” 

The words slid along her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach like a prophecy of doom. Everywhere she turned, it seemed there would always be reasons to doubt her connection to Sebastian. Ominis had warned her, Anne had sent her to prison to keep her from him, Leander begged her to choose him with those soft eyes of his. Solomon had tried to kill her. 

Every choice she made, every path she took, there had been pain and darkness. Magic had been her light, a self discovery that offered hope, and Sebastian had been like a conduit. Born with Gaunt blood in her veins, but somehow destined to be entangled with a Sallow. To whatever end. 

“I wouldn't expect you to understand,” she choked out. “Just say what you want and be done with this.” 

“Always so cold and to the point, aren't you?” Rookwood mused, rubbing his chin. “It's all rather easy, really. You do as I ask, or I shall be forced to use leverage.” 

“What kind of leverage?” 

“Well, let's play a little game, shall we?” Rookwood grinned. He gestured and Luella dragged Anne up off the ground, Sebastian trying to crawl after her. “Oh, look at her, poor thing. Don't imagine for one moment that I don't recognise you, little bird. How's that curse feeling? Cooking along quite nicely, I expect.” 

Anne struggled and growled behind her gag, Luella smirking with smug glee as she held her firm. MC couldn't help but wonder what Anne would say if she could speak. Sebastian crawled jerkily towards them, but Luella put out her booted foot, pressing it against his forehead before shoving him back to the ground. 

Rage swept over MC and she twisted harshly in the executioner’s hold, choking as he restrained her. “Leave him alone,” she hissed.

“I do love it when my toys fight back,” the executioner murmured into her ear, squeezing her throat in warning. “Keep wriggling like that and I might start to enjoy you.” 

“Fuck you,” she said harshly, pulling on his forearm, horror creeping over her flesh at his body pressed against hers. 

Rookwood chuckled. “Hurt him again, Luella. I don’t think she liked that.” 

“With pleasure,” Luella said silkily, aiming her wand down towards Sebastian where he was trying to get back up onto his knees. “Crucio!” 

Both MC and Anne yelled in protest as Sebastian fell to the dirt, flickers of red sparking along his frame as he screamed. His throat sounded raw, hoarse, his fingers like claws as he tried to fight the pain. Flickers of memory danced behind MC’s vision as she recalled the pain of that curse. The darkness of the Scriptorium, Ominis sobbing quietly, and the dusty bones of Aunt Noctua resting uneasily in the corner. Anne was thrashing like a wild cat, screaming in rage behind her gag as she watched her brother twist in agony on the ground. MC was tearing at the executioner’s fingers around her throat as she yelled through her restricted airway. 

“Stop it! I’ll do what you say! Just stop it!” Tears were now streaming down her cheeks. 

“See? Isn’t it all so easy when everyone understands the rules of play,” Rookwood said, utterly calm and unfazed at the torture unfolding at his finely polished, booted feet. “I make a request, and you oblige me. Failure to do so will mean pain for those you care about.” 

“What more would you request of me?” MC asked warily. “You already have me seeking deposits, what more would you have me do?” 

Rookwood’s smile was slow. “I want you to absorb that repository under Hogwarts. The huge vessel of power that Ranrok wanted. You’re going to go down there and take it.” 

MC stared aghast, her blood freezing in her veins as she pictured that shimmering darkness in the cavern beneath the school. She could have taken it into herself back in her fifth year, but she had stepped away from it, repulsed by the swirling mists of other people’s pain, stolen against their will. What good could ever come from absorbing such a thing? In that, the Keepers had been right. It should never have been made in the first place, no matter how good Isadora’s intentions had been in the beginning. 

Anne began spitting venom behind her gag again, fighting with whatever strength she had left, her eyes glowing like hot coals of vicious hatred towards MC. Rookwood chuckled and glanced between Anne and MC, his head tilting slightly. “Is it just me, or does my little cursed one not like you much, MC?” 

“What gave it away?” MC muttered, glaring at Anne and wishing she would just shut up. Revealing too much was dangerous, it only gave Rookwood more leverage to play with. 

“Isn’t she the one who testified against you before the Wizengamot?” Luella asked, gripping Anne by the hair in an attempt to hold her still. “Unlike our dear Sebastian down here, this Sallow twin clearly isn’t so forgiving about the murder of their uncle.” 

MC clamped her lips together, refusing to take the bait, her eyes dropping to Sebastian who was groaning into the dirt, his body twitching with aftershocks. 

“Ah yes, this is interesting,” Rookwood said, narrowing his eyes and twirling MC’s wand in his hand thoughtfully. “Perhaps we ought to play another little game. Untie Mrs Gaunt, if you would, and give her a wand.” 

MC’s pulse quickened and she stilled, her eyes widened as Luella obliged. Immediately, Anne yanked her gag free of her mouth and snatched her wand from Luella’s grip. “Are you happy now?” She hissed, staggering forward and aiming right at MC. “This is all your fault, but nobody would listen to me when I warned them about you. Not Seb, not even my Ominis. The only one who understood was Uncle Solomon, but he is now dead. Because of you. You and your poisonous magic.” 

“Anne,” Sebastian whimpered, rolling stiffly on the ground. “No…” 

Rookwood was lit up like Christmas in the Great Hall, watching with fascination as Anne advanced on MC. MC swallowed tightly under the choking grip, her eyes fixed on Anne’s wand. Surely, Rookwood wouldn’t let Anne hurt her. He needed her. To her shock, Rookwood stepped forward and held her own wand out towards her, a malicious grin on his face. 

“Stop her, little bird,” he urged, his voice like silk. He held out her wand, handle first. “It wouldn’t take a lot, she’s hanging by her last thread. Make her suffer for the way she speaks to you. Demand her loyalty. It’s a lesson you must deliver on your path to greatness, MC. You deserve so much more respect. Take it. Show her.” 

MC felt her lips tremble as she stared at her wand, her hand already reaching out for it. The burn in her blood was a rushing, fearsome force. A blend of her ancient magic, her bitter desire for revenge, and her blood bound promise to never turn against Sebastian. To hurt Anne, was to hurt him. If she hurt Anne, she would suffer the consequences.

“Expelliarmus!” 

The spell shot from Anne’s wand, snatching MC’s wand and sending it flying through the cold, morning air. It landed and rolled across the dirt, Rookwood turning to Anne in surprise. Anne was intent on her course, her gaze fixed on MC, ignoring Rookwood’s protest as he held up a hand towards her. MC struggled in the executioner’s grip, the man mountain not even flinching as Anne’s first cast hit MC near her hip. The stinging burn was breathtaking, and she gasped, her knees buckling. If she wasn’t being held, she would have gone down. 

MC felt the pressure in her chest expand, her eyes glowing with blue and white flames, and the world seemed to slow down. Both Rookwood and Luella made a lunge for Anne, arms outstretched. Sebastian was dragging himself across the dirt, his face so pale and grim with pain. If she didn’t do something, her body was going to sizzle up in the furnace of her emotions, boiling with the urgency of her magic as it raged under her skin. Just like in Azkaban, when the Dementors had been about to take Leander, her magic exploded out of her control. 

The first blue lightning bolt struck the earth between MC and Anne, the glare of it blinding hot, the crack of its impact deafening. Anne was blown backwards into Luella, both women sprawling out across the ground. The executioner staggered slightly, but didn’t let her go. MC didn’t have the time to appreciate the awestruck horror on Rookwood’s face as the second bolt of lightning struck, this time taking out the executioner. MC felt the sizzle of the blast on her flesh, her ears ringing from the impact as she was thrown to the ground. Pain bloomed down her side as she rolled, but she got to her knees, gnashing her teeth against the burn as she scrambled to snatch up her wand. 

Bolt after bolt of searing blue lightning struck the earth, scorching the ground and filling the air with the scent of burning. The executioner lay still, the flesh of his face steaming, and MC gagged as she threw herself at Sebastian. He wasn’t moving, and terror filled her as the air crackled and burned around them. She shook him, grasping his face with one hand. The ringing sound in her ears blocking out the screams of Anne and Luella as they resorted to cat fighting in the dust. 

Sebastian’s eyes opened to look up at her, hazy and unfocused, but he reached out a shaking hand towards her face. It was enough. He was alive, and he was her only priority. Grasping him to her chest, MC closed her eyes, fighting against her exhaustion as she Disapparated, leaving the chaos of the clearing behind. 

Leander

After managing a light breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Leander sat propped up against the pillows of his hospital bed as he sipped a cup of tea. He had watched the dawn break through the window, the sky lightening with shades of pink and autumn gold against a backdrop of the London skyline. The pain in his head had receded to a dull ache that had almost gone, his ribs were still tender but well on the mend. He didn’t need anyone to tell him how lucky he was to be alive. 

Ivy had filled him in on the events of their capture and escape, her eyes burning with curiosity whenever she mentioned MC. Leander kept his feelings to himself, unwilling to reveal just how close he had become to MC despite the Auror’s offer of help. So caught up in the knowledge that MC had risked everything to save him, Leander had taken a while to find sleep after Ivy had departed. Loving MC was a complicated and painful process, each step forward resulting in a stumble back, only to be yanked forwards again. She may insist that they could never have a future, but something deep in his bones told him that she felt something for him. He kept that little flicker of warmth safely tucked away in his heart, nurtured it, savoured it. Even if it came to nothing, maybe it could be enough just to know that she had dared to feel something for a man like him. 

Daydreaming into his tea cup, he jolted when his hospital room door opened and a nurse swept in, her pale green robe swishing softly as she approached the bed. She had black hair with strands of grey threading near her ears, pale blue eyes that seemed to appraise him with a calm curiosity. A new face, seemingly kind and warm as she paused beside him. 

“Good morning, Auror Prewett,” she said, her smile quick and bright. He couldn’t help but stare at her. There was something vaguely familiar about the shape of her eyes. “How are you feeling today? I read your notes. You took quite a beating by all accounts.” 

“I’m feeling much better this morning, thank you. I count myself very lucky indeed. They weren’t kidding when they said that designated Auror beds were a necessity,” he said, placing his tea cup carefully onto the saucer. A crease appeared on his brow. “Have we met before?” 

Her smile was there and then gone again, like the flicker of sunlight on a cloudy day. “No, we haven’t met before,” she said, gesturing towards his arm and holding up her stethoscope. “May I?” 

“Oh, of course,” he said, giving himself a mental shake. He had been staring, and a hot blush stained his cheeks as he placed his tea on his bedside table and offered her his arm. Her hands were warm and gentle as she rolled up the sleeve of his hospital gown, and with a quick flick of her wand, he felt the tightening band of pressure about his upper arm. She placed the stethoscope against the inside of his elbow and checked a little watch pinned to her robe. 

Leander felt himself staring at her profile again, noting the gentle slope of her nose, the constellation of beauty marks near her ear. There was a captivating beauty about her that pulled strongly with recognition. He felt like he knew her in some way.

Her pale blue eyes shifted his way, and her mouth curved upwards. “Your heart is beating rather quickly, Auror Prewett, and I can feel your eyes staring right into my soul” she said softly. “It’s nice to know I can still turn a head.” 

His face burned with shame. He slapped a hand to his forehead. “I’m so sorry. Please…gods, forgive me,” he spluttered, cringing at himself. “I didn't mean to stare, it’s just…well, you remind me of someone. Someone special.” 

Her eyebrows lifted and she released the pressure on his arm, rolling down his sleeve with deft fingers. “The young lady in your life?” She asked. 

He nodded, and then frowned, looking back up at her questioningly. She smiled again, fussing with his bed sheets, smoothing them neatly. “I was here through the night,” she said. “I saw two young ladies visit your room. One of them was your colleague, and she did not fall asleep holding your hand, unlike the other one. That one is very pretty up close, nothing like the unflattering prisoner photograph printed in the Daily Prophet of her, for sure.” 

Leander shifted in the bed, rubbing the back of his neck, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. “You recognised her?” 

The nurse paused in her work and gave him a piercing look. “You won’t receive any judgement from me, Auror Prewett. We are all human after all.” She moved back up towards the head of the bed and checked his pillows, her hand firm as she placed it on his shoulder to settle him back against the plush softness. 

“You called her someone special,” she said, furtively glancing at him. “I get the feeling that she thinks rather highly of you, too. She cried at your bedside before falling asleep.” 

Leander felt his pulse quicken, his senses kicking up a notch as he studied this nurse a little more closely. He tucked that little nugget of information away to savour over later, for now, his Auror trained mind was edging towards suspicion. “Who are you?” 

“Call me… Beth,” she said, a curious little smile on her lips as she moved away from the bed. 

Her hesitation was enough to suggest that the name had been plucked from the air. He leant forward slightly, concern etched on his features. “You’re lying. Why are you asking about MC? Did Rookwood send you?” 

Panic flared in his chest and he gripped the bed sheets, preparing to launch himself from the bed. She hurried forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, her pale blue eyes wide. “Do not fret,” she said quickly and quietly, glancing over her shoulder towards the door much like MC had done when she had been here. “I mean no ill will, nor do I wish any harm upon your young lady. I’d rather die than be a soldier for Rookwood. He is a stain on the earth.” 

“Then, who are you really?” He demanded. 

Something in her gaze softened as she stared back at him. “You are a good man, Auror Prewett. I’ve done my research on you. An honourable man, and I give you my thanks. You take care of her. She is safe with you.” 

Leander could only stare, his lips parted. The pieces to the puzzle were floating within his grasp, he just needed to slot them into place. Her smile was warm as she stepped back from the bed. She nodded at him. He had known as soon as she walked through the door, hadn’t he? It just took some time for his brain to catch up with itself.

Her eyes, her smile, the black hair… She even had beauty marks on her face like Ominis.

“Wait,” he called out, gripping the sheets again. 

Her hand was on the door, opening it. She turned back once, their eyes meeting in a strange, but final understanding, and then she was gone. Goosebumps spread swiftly along his arms as he stared at the now closed door. He felt like he had seen a ghost, but that nurse had been no ghost. 

Beth.

Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth Gaunt. 

He had just been visited by MC’s birth mother. She was definitely alive. And she knew about MC, she had been watching them both, and he had just let her walk out of the door. 

Sebastian 

The warmth of the bath water seemed to envelope him, soothing over skin that felt raw and sensitive as though he had the flu. His hands still had a tremor, but the worst of the shaking seemed to be over. Sebastian winced as he leant back in the cast iron tub, trying to allow himself to relax, but fear held his insides in an icy vice. 

Rookwood had Anne. If they were all still alive that is.

A shudder rattled through him as he recalled the horror of every moment laying in the dirt whilst pain ripped through him, but his fear for Anne had been greater. To see her twisted with the same pain had torn him in two. Closing his eyes, he could hear her screams, the whole sky alight with blue fire, the same fierce glow burning in MC’s eyes. Blinking away tears, he pressed his hands to his face and took a few steadying breaths, panic beginning to swell in his chest. He hated feeling this weak, this powerless, but he would take all the pain he had to if it meant keeping it from Anne.

He stared at the unfamiliar walls of the bathroom, the dark wood panelling and cast iron fireplace where a crackling fire blazed for warmth. Pale sunlight streamed through a window catching the dust in delicate sparkles as they danced in the air. This house was aged and unused, bought with old money. Gaunt money.

He could hear the muffled sound of voices from the other room, Ominis and MC, still bickering, still unable to come to any sort of agreement. When MC had brought him to Ominis and Anne’s house, the fallout had been on a scale Sebastian had not seen since the day of the catacombs. Ominis went from being anxious about Anne’s whereabouts, to downright livid with rage when he discovered what had happened. Sebastian felt certain he had blacked out through some of it, the uncontrollable shaking and the unbearable pain stealing all rational thought from him. When he had come around again, they were no longer in Anne’s kitchen, but miles away amid the peat marshes of Norfolk, safely away from prying eyes in Noctua Gaunt’s riverside house. 

Weak, and exhausted, Sebastian had slumped on the settee as potions were poured into his mouth, MC’s hands carefully smoothing back his hair with worried glances. Ominis had paced, muttering and pressing his hands to his ears, reliving old horrors as MC recounted the torture. It seemed the darkness would never recede, it would always be there waiting in the wings to claim them, and for the first time, Sebastian felt a deep and true sense of guilt and shame. For so long he had walked the darker path, shrugging off the consequences of his actions, but to feel that pain, to experience first hand the true horror…

Sinking lower into the bath water, he let the burn in his eyes succumb to tears until his shoulders shook with his sobs. How much more of this could they take? How much more could he take? The weight of it all crushed over him, dragging him under until he felt like he would never breathe clear again. 

But, he still had to fight. He had to keep the game in play. Now, more than ever. He had to get his sister back. 

The click of the bathroom door made him look up. MC peered around the dark wood, her face pale and drawn, her eyes dark. “I just thought I would check on you,” she said softly. “Are you alright?” 

He didn’t think he would ever feel alright ever again. “I’m feeling better,” he nodded, managing a weak smile. 

Her teeth worried at her lower lip as she studied him. “Ominis left for the Ministry. He is going to report Anne as missing,” she said, still lingering behind the door. “Harrington is going to be all over this. I should contact Leander, too.” 

“If it means they get Anne back home, then maybe that’s a good thing,” he sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I just said that.” 

MC pushed the door a little wider. “May I come in?” 

Sebastian reached a dripping wet arm out of the tub towards her, his fingers splayed outwards. “Come here,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. 

Closing the door behind her, she moved carefully across the floorboards, putting a hand to her side as knelt beside the tub, taking hold of his hand. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, frowning in concern. 

She waved him off. “I’m fine, don’t you worry,” she insisted, pressing her lips to his palm, over and over. “You’re cold,” she grimaced. She reached to dip her hand into the water, her eyebrows lifting in surprise at the heat of it. 

His smile was grim. “Must be that cold blood of mine,” he said darkly. 

She met his gaze. “You are definitely not cold blooded,” she whispered. “Too hot blooded for your own good sometimes, if anything.” 

He watched her through lowered lids as her gaze dipped to his chest, travelling slowly downwards where he lay back in the water. He made no moves to cover his modesty, watching with curiosity as a flush of pink coloured her cheeks. She cleared her throat, blinking rapidly as she averted her eyes, swiping back loose strands of hair. It put the beginnings of a fire curling in his belly to see that spark of desire in her eyes, to know that she still wanted him, even if she did try to hide it.

She had bathed and changed, too. Wearing a blouse of snowy white, it contrasted with the midnight ebony of her hair. There were dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes, her cheekbones still looked too sharp, and tension lingered around her mouth, but she was beautiful still. His heart ached for her in ways he could never explain but he didn’t move as her fingers stroked his hand. She slid them slowly over his skin, tracing over his wrist and along his forearm until she came to the tally of black marks he had cast onto his flesh. Her fingertip brushed over them as she frowned. “What is this?” 

“A mark for every soul departed by my own hands,” he admitted, swallowing thickly. She met his gaze, dark horror shadowing her face. “I don’t want to forget what I have done, MC. I carry the memory of them always, a reminder of my shame. It never gets any easier to carry the burden, and that’s how it should be.” 

“Oh, Seb,” she whispered, staring down at the black markers. Her horror turned to sadness, her eyes glassy and pained. 

“Don’t cry for me,” he said, touching a knuckle under her chin. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, either. All those marks on my skin are a stark reminder of all the bad shit I’ve done, but I would do it all over again, every single one, if it means that you and Anne are safe. I love you both. I would do anything for you, anything at all, but that’s my choice. So, don’t cry for me.” 

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” she said, her chin lifting in that stubborn way of hers. A determined gleam lit her eyes and she leant against the edge of the tub. “Once upon a time, you and I used to do fucked up shit together. For whatever reason, fate put you and I on the same path. I think it was set in stone long before we were both even born, and even when events try to separate us, we find each other again.” 

The seriousness with which she spoke made his heart clench, his pulse kicking up and fluttering in his neck, but he tilted his head and fixed her with one of his mischievous little smirks. “Careful, now, sweetheart,” he teased, trying to keep things light. “That sounds awfully romantic. Are you going soft on me?” 

“Someone is feeling better,” she said sourly, her brow creasing slightly. 

A hoarse chuckle left his lips and he tugged on her hand, needing her to be even closer. The bath water sloshed as he brought his other hand up to touch her jaw, his humour fading into raw honesty. “I always feel better when I’m with you,” he said. “Like you just said. Fate brought you to me, and I’m not letting you go without one hell of a fight. Rookwood was right about one thing. I did find something beautiful and precious, and if I’m selfish for trying to keep it, then so be it.” 

He sat up, the water sloshing noisily as he met her gaze nose to nose. “You’re mine. Body and soul. Bound by blood, bound by darkness, bound by the souls we have sent into Death’s hands to keep each other safe. I know it’s fucked up, MC, but it’s ours. I’d rather face all of this with you beside me than alone. You are the only one in the whole world who understands.” 

She nodded, leaning her forehead against his. “That’s why I’m going back,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I’m going back to Rookwood, and I’m going to find Anne. Not for her sake, but for yours, and for Ominis.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He frowned, apprehension stiffening his already tortured muscles. “Give me a few hours and I can go back myself.” 

“No,” she said firmly, placing her hand against his wet chest. “You need proper rest after what happened back there, and I don’t want you anywhere near Rookwood right now. I’ll go. Anne may hate me, but she won’t have a choice. She knows something, Seb, and I want to get it out of her.” 

He gave her a dubious look. “Good luck with that, Anne is more stubborn than I am.” 

“And that is saying something,” she smirked, her fingers gently digging into the solid flesh of his chest. His skin tingled harshly in protest, still raw, but he bore it. Anything to keep her hands on him. 

“You’re lucky I’m still weak and shaky, sweetheart,” he said, curling his fingers into the front of her blouse, his blood heating in slow, flickering pulses. He pulled her closer, his mouth barely grazing hers. He heard her soft gasp and smirked. “Keep sassing me with that smart mouth of yours, and I’ll be dragging you into this tub with me. I’m certain I could find another use for it.” 

He waited for the bite back, a smart comment, maybe she would shove him back down into the bath with one of her stubborn little looks, but she didn’t. Her hand slid slowly down his chest, fingers splayed, blistering heat following in a lazy trail as she dragged her fingernails gently across his stomach. His muscles contracted, pleasure and lingering pain sparking like tiny bites in his flesh, drawing a whimper from his mouth. Her pupils dilated, and he was entranced, caught in her gaze. Utterly in her hands. 

“In your state, I don’t think you could handle me,” she murmured, the low tone of her voice sending a shiver down his spine. 

“I’d happily die trying,” he gasped, his words more a desperate moan as her hand slid lower, fingers teasing at the edge of dark, curling hair. His dick twitched eagerly, hot blood rushing to swell him with an aching throb, the wet, silken tip grazing against her forearm. His eyes rolled, lips parted in a stuttering breath of sheer, teasing pleasure. Her mouth was a hot sin, her tongue so soft as she slid it over his lip. For a few blissful seconds he thought he might forget the pain as she kissed him, losing himself in her taste as desire blazed against the lingering ache in his muscles.

He trembled, one hand grasping the rolled edge of the iron tub as she reached for the bar of soap, and he watched with bated breath as she lathered it up in her hands before slowly spreading it downwards over his torso, the frothy bubbles swirling through the trail of dark hair around his navel and lower. He groaned and lay back in the water, biting his lip as the blend of pleasure and pain her touch conjured sung across his skin. 

“Am I hurting you?” She asked, her hands pausing at the apex of his thighs. 

“No…yes,” he whimpered, a crease appearing on his now sweat beaded brow. Desperation had him breathless. “Don’t stop.” 

Her slow smile did things to his insides, made him quiver with anticipation as her hands encircled his length, slippery and soapy as they glided up to the tip and all the way back down again. He didn’t even recognise the sound of the moan that left his own mouth, his pelvis lifting upwards from the base of the tub to chase the exquisite sensation of her touch. His head lolled against the tub edge, all rational thought eradicated as she worked with deliberate, slow strokes. 

“Good?” She murmured, watching him with dark eyes, a delicate pink flush highlighting her cheekbones. 

“So…so good,” he rasped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the tub. 

Heat was pooling thick and fast at the base of his spine, every muscle and sinew strung to their tightest point as tremors of flickering pain lingered in his limbs. He would have thought that the effects of the curse would have killed his desire, but no, he wallowed in the tub as pleasure and pain blended into one mind blowing sensation. He never knew how delicate the balance could be between two very different sensations, but put them together, and he was dangerously close to climax after a few delicious strokes. Of course, it helped that it was MC’s deadly little hands doing the fucking. 

She picked up her pace, two hands fisting with just enough pressure over the head of his dick to have him bucking greedily, chasing the blistering peak with desperate, breathless moans. It took all of his remaining strength to cling on to the edge of the tub, with one hand he moved to reach for her, needing to feel her, but gasping he clamped onto the tub once more as she slid one soapy hand lower to cup his aching balls. 

“Fuck,” he panted, staring up at the white washed ceiling now, sweat streaking down his neck, a vein throbbing at his temple. What was that he had said about dying happy as he tried to keep up? 

The pressure in his lower back expanded, waves of heat rolling outwards as his balls tightened. So violent was his release, he cried out, almost blacking out as he coated his chest and her arm in impressive amounts of cum. The bath water rolled in mini waves after the shuddering arch he had made with his back. Sinking back down to the bath base, he panted, trying to reassemble his scattered thoughts with his eyes closed. Exhausted wasn’t the word.

He heard MC washing her hands off in the water, felt the soft swipe of a wash cloth against his chest, but he remained still, lungs burning with every deep breath. Only when he felt gentle hands take hold of his face did he crack open his bleary eyes. She smiled at him. 

“There, that’s better. You feel much warmer now,” she said, smoothing a thumb over his heated cheeks. 

“I fucking love you,” he mumbled. 

She huffed in amusement through her nose and bent down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I think I quite like this submissive, well behaved Sebastian. Can I keep him?” 

“Don’t get used to it,” he warned, but his words were no more than a soft mumble. He lifted a shaky hand and touched his fingertips to her lips. “Once I’m back on my feet, I’m going to put you on your back and repay the favour.” 

“I shall hold you to that,” she said, kissing him softly on the mouth. Then she stood, fetching a clean towel that hung on a rail. She held it up. “Let’s get you out of there and into bed. You need rest.” 

He wasn’t even sure he could stand. The day's events slammed into him, the post climax glow making his muscles feel loose and sated, but the horror of earlier still clung to him. A lurking darkness hung over his head, but a deep, glowing sense of warmth settled in his chest at her words. The promise of more. It was in her smile as he clung to her, his legs shaking as she helped him out of the tub. It was in the way she touched him, the softness in her voice as she towelled him off and pressed kisses to his flushed skin. She was finally coming back to him, and this time, he wouldn’t let her down. 

MC

Only when Sebastian was settled in sleep could she gently let go of his hand. She had tucked him into the freshly made four poster bed, ignoring his requests for her to climb in with him. They had compromised with her sitting beside him, their hands clasped as he began to drift. Staring down at his face relaxed in sleep, it struck her how vulnerable he seemed. So used to his cocky smirk and hands on approach, it gave her pause to see him weak and soft like this. 

It reminded her of those dark days after Solomon’s death when Anne had abandoned him, her heart contracting with pain to recall the nights spent wide awake in horrified tension in the Undercroft. So much pain and suffering seemed to find them both. 

She watched the delicate flutter of his closed eyelids, the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath the soft bed sheet. Alive. It struck her deeply how terrified she was of losing him forever. To use his own words, he was the only one who understood. To lose him would mean loneliness with cutting finality. 

When she had found him in the bathtub, his eyes red from crying, the urge to take his pain filled her with longing. If she probed that thought deeper, perhaps she could understand the lengths that Isadora had dared go to erase pain from others. MC didn’t think she could ever go as far as that, however, and when she had seen Sebastian naked in the water, her own body had fancied a rather different approach. It still gave her shivers to think of how he had moaned, her hands coaxing him to pleasure, pushing back his shadows and reinforcing that connection between them.

If he was indeed fated to be her undoing, then so be it. She was in too deep now, connected to him in ways inexplicable, but rooted so far into her soul that it seemed impossible to imagine her life without him in it. 

Is this what they call love? As a teen she had believed it so, but had never been entirely sure. She held a strong affection for Leander, cared about him, but it could never be like this. It brought a tear to her eye to contemplate such heavy thoughts, the web of emotions thick and binding in her chest. As she stared down at Sebastian in his sleep, she supposed she really must love him if she was preparing to go and seek out his stubborn, vicious mouthed sister. 

Slipping quietly from the bedroom and closing the door, she wandered the old house that had once belonged to Noctua Gaunt. Ominis had brought them here where nobody would think to look for them, allowing Sebastian to recover before they made any other moves. Considering his rage, Ominis had been rather gracious. As she awaited his return from the Ministry, not wanting to leave Sebastian alone, she began to pay more attention to the house around her. After all, Noctua had been her aunt, too. 

The furniture and decor held a charm of its own. The house was reasonable in size, and yet it felt like a home despite years of being empty. Cosy and welcoming, the house was nothing like she had thought to expect from a Gaunt, but then Noctua had broken the mould when it came to her family. The art was light and pleasing, seeming to favour themes of flora and landscapes. MC trailed her hands against fine curtains and plush cushions, her boots crossing delicately woven rugs. 

Opening a door, she came across a room lined with many bookcases, a leather settee placed before a cast iron fireplace. A bureau style writing desk was placed against one wall, above it hung a portrait of two dark haired girls and a stern faced boy. MC moved closer, noting the resemblance to Ominis in their faces. First, she stared at the boy, likely Ominis’ father. There was none of the gentle nature in his hard eyes that she had come to know about Ominis. The set of his mouth was cruel, even at a young age. She guessed Mr Gaunt to be around fourteen in the picture, his arrogance apparent in the way he placed his hand on the back of the chair where the smallest girl sat. 

The older of the two girls had to be Noctua. MC had seen a portrait of her before that Ominis had shown her not long after their visit to the Scriptorium. It was the smaller girl in the wing backed chair that made her pulse quicken, her throat working as she studied the delicate features of the raven haired girl, sitting so straight backed and yet demure as she posed. A proper lady at approximately eleven years old.

“Hello, mother,” MC whispered, seeing her own blue eyes reflected back at her in the painting. They had the same shaped nose, the same hair. She found herself longing to know how she moved, the sound of her voice. What would it feel like to hear her laugh? It brought a lump to her throat. 

Pressing her fingers to her cheeks, she could see with her own eyes the similarities in her features to those of the three Gaunt siblings. If Ominis had been able to see, would he have noticed long before just how much she looked like his relatives? It chilled her to think that his family would have seen her photograph in the newspaper. Would they realise? But then, she remembered what Ominis had told her. That he had always believed his Aunt Elizabeth’s daughter long dead. 

Pushing back against the burn of tears, MC turned her attention to the fine writing desk, smoothing her fingers over the lid before carefully pulling it down. It made no creak or groan as she lowered the writing table, everything inside neatly stored, the wood finely painted with floral designs on the drawers and pigeon holes. Quills and bottles of ink, neat stacks of correspondence and notes, envelopes and a wax seal with the Gaunt family crest were all stored here. MC picked through the various items, not really reading any of the private letters still kept, until her gaze fell upon one that gave her pause. 

Her fingers shook as she held the parchment, her mouth going dry as she sank down into the antique chair placed before the bureau. 

My dearest Noctua, 

I felt compelled to reply to your recent letter at once. I fear that I may already be too late, but if I am not, then please…you must do nothing. You know how Father is. He would cut you off, or worse, he would see you cold in the ground before you betray your blood. Do not fret for me, sister dearest. I made my choice. I could never regret my love for William, and I already adore the babe that grows within me. He, or she, will be the light of my life, and if I need to run in order to protect my child, then that is what I must do. William and I plan to marry at the first opportunity. We shall go to Gretna Green to become handfast. It will be the start of a new life for me, away from the dark corners of Gaunt manor, and the wickedness that pours from Father’s wand. 

I shall remain, as ever, your most loyal and loving sister. I implore you again to be careful, and I beg that you press a million kisses to baby Ominis’ cheeks. 

Love always, your sister, Beth x 

This glimpse into her mother’s world only threw up more questions. What happened? How did a woman so intent on her new start manage to disappear, and the light of her life ended up in an unforgiving children’s home in the poorest part of London? Where was her father now? This William her mother spoke so fondly of. And how did Solomon Sallow fit into all of this? 

MC read the letter again before returning it carefully to the collection of letters in the desk, thumbing through the rest to see if she could find any more. Tucked to the rear of the desk was a rolled parchment, a broken wax seal displaying a circular symbol she had never seen before. Unrolling it quickly, she scanned the inked words and the mystery deepened. 

It was addressed to Noctua, and it spoke of a matter discussed at a previous meeting, however the details were not mentioned here. The sender of the scroll was signed only as Head of the Circle, whoever that could be, and they claimed that Elizabeth was safe and well. MC studied the document, noting the neatly scribed words, the delicate designs drawn at the top along with the words ‘The Circle of Avalon.’ 

Sitting back in the chair, MC let her hands drop to her lap, her gaze staring off across the room as she considered this. She had heard Avalon before, and she dredged through her memories as she tried to remember where. Sebastian would likely know, but she was loath to wake him yet. He needed to recover his strength. As she pondered this Circle of Avalon, the nagging feeling that she needed to talk to Anne hung over her. It didn’t appeal, but that stubborn bitch knew something, and she was hiding it from both her and Sebastian. 

Turning to the desk, she pulled out her secret communication parchment that she shared with Leander and smoothed it out on the table top. Tapping her wand to it, a single sentence appeared in his neat script. 

We need to meet as soon as possible. Lee x 

Expecting this to be about Anne’s disappearance now being known, MC took up a quill to write her request for Andrew Larson to look up The Circle of Avalon in the Ministry files, and promised to meet with him soon to explain. There was something she needed to do first. 

….*….

Time slipped into late afternoon by the time Ominis arrived back at Noctua’s house, his face drawn into one of tight fatigue. MC had been standing out on the back terrace, looking out over the river as the sun began its descent. The sky was a glorious sweep of golds and pinks, the Norfolk landscape a flat marshland as far as the eye could see, broken only by the many windmills scattered here and there, and the odd late sail boat making its way through the broads. 

“You’re still here, then,” Ominis said, holding out his wand, the tip blinking red. He could not hide the downward turn of his mouth, his grimness understandable. “Where is Sebastian?” 

“Sleeping,” she replied, pulling her cloak closer around her shoulders as she moved to stand before him, wincing at the bruising to her ribs. “Now that you have returned, I thought to leave him in your care. I intend to return to Scotland and see if I can’t find where they are keeping Anne. How did it go at the Ministry? Did you speak with Harrington?” 

“Harrington has put out an alert about Anne’s disappearance. From what I can gather, Prewett will be released from St Mungo’s this evening. I’m sure they will want to speak with you,” he said, fidgeting slightly, rubbing long fingers against his forehead. “Perhaps I ought to warn you. I also spoke with my brother whilst I was in London. We don’t tend to stay in touch, and so the meeting was rather strained to begin with before I even mentioned Anne. He is a despicable human being, much like my father. However, Marvolo is in cahoots with Rookwood, and I want my wife back.” 

“What did he say?” MC felt a shiver start at the back of her neck. As curious as she felt about her blood family, she had hoped to avoid Marvolo as much as possible. 

“He claims he knew nothing about Anne being taken, and quite frankly he didn’t seem to care,” Ominis scowled, his mouth a tight line. “He seemed more interested in how Sebastian took his torture, and if you were compliant in Rookwood’s game play. My distress has always been a source of enjoyment for him, I can’t see how this will change anything.” 

MC placed a tentative hand to Ominis’ shoulder. He immediately tensed under her touch, but she kept her hand there. “I am sorry, Ominis, for whatever part I have played in this mess. But, I want to fix it. Anne may not like me, but she means a lot to you and Sebastian, and you both mean a lot to me.” 

“You will do the evil that Rookwood asks of you?” He asked, tilting his head, his pale eyes luminous in the light of the setting sun. 

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” she said, letting her hand slide from his shoulder. “I can’t promise there won’t be anything dangerous about this, but it is the path we find ourselves on. Just make sure Sebastian stays here. He needs to rest, and I don’t want him anywhere near Rookwood until I know the state of things. I’m not having his death on my conscience.” 

“Nobody should have any deaths on their conscience,” he said bitterly. 

“In a perfect world, perhaps, Ominis,” she said sadly. “I shall take my leave, then.” 

Her boots scraped against the stone flagging underfoot as she took a step back. Ominis reached out a hand and grasped her sleeve, his fingers clenched tight. “Be careful. Come back to us.” 

The expression on his face brought a lump to her throat. “I promise,” she whispered. 

Slowly, he let her go, his shoulders seeming to carry a heavy weight. With a last glance back at the house, MC Disapparated out to the cluster of trees near the Ashwinder camp. 

The shadows were long and creeping as she stepped through the carpet of leaves, wand in hand. It was quiet. Too quiet. A chill wind rustled the canopy above, and she pulled her cloak closer as she peered around the trunk of a tree, a sinking sensation made her stomach clench. The camp had gone. The clearing ahead had been filled with pitched tents and cook fires, chatter and even some singing filling the air, but now, it was barren. Evidence of stamped out fires and flattened wild grass where tents had stood were all that was left. The Ashwinders had moved on and she had no idea where. 

Slumping against the tree she considered travelling to London and paying a visit to the Black Rose. Someone there would be able to tell her the new camp location, but that would risk word getting back to Rookwood that she was looking, and she had been rather hoping for subtlety. Perhaps that was Rookwood’s plan. Frustrated at being stumped at the first instance, MC sighed and rubbed her face. She would have to go back to Norfolk and ask Sebastian if he had a clue how to find them. 

A twig snapped to the left of her and she spun, wand out, but couldn’t see anyone in the rapidly descending darkness. On full alert now, her pulse quickening in her ears, she stared wide eyed into the trees. It could be an animal she supposed, but the hairs had lifted on the back of her neck. She didn’t feel alone. 

The flickering beam of a spell shot through the shadows, catching her off guard. Jumping to one side, she yelped as the sensation of coiling rope wrapped around her calf, slithering easily to bind both of her legs together. Losing balance, she thumped down into the bed of leaves with a cry of pain as she crushed her already sore ribs. Gasping against the winded feeling, she wriggled into a sitting position to aim at the binding curse with her own wand and release it. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, dragging her back to the ground and pinning her there, face down. Her spell scorched through the crispy leaves, missing its mark.

“Well, would you look at that? I’ve only gone and caught myself a cute little bunny in the woods.” 

MC twisted her head to try and see who it was, the voice vaguely familiar, furiously trying to buck against the hands holding her down. “I wouldn’t get too cocky,” she grunted. “This isn’t over yet.” 

He laughed, leaning down until she could feel his breath against her cheek. His cologne was fresh, citrus scented, and his fingers massaged into her muscles. “I love a feisty bunny,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. “We have to stop meeting like this, chosen one. Why are you always lurking in dark places? Oh yes, one should always expect that you are up to mischief. That was what you said, wasn’t it?” 

Her breath left her in a gasp, leaves fluttering at her nose. “Rosier?” She squeaked. 

“We meet again, MC,” he chuckled, rolling her onto her back. 

Leaves were caught in her hair and there was a fresh smudge of dirt on her cheek, but her eyes flashed indignantly as she stared up at his handsome face whilst he knelt over her. Even in the deepening twilight you could see the fine cut of his jaw and charming smile, his dark blonde hair swept romantically to one side. Her hands clenched. She hated being taken at a disadvantage, and had the urge to slap his smug face. 

“Release your spell,” she demanded through gritted teeth. 

His smile widened. “You’re lucky you Apparated into my surveillance patch, love. Otherwise you would be dealing with a lot worse than a little binding hex.” 

“What do you mean?” She frowned. 

He bent closer. “Rookwood expected you to come back, so he set watchmen to wait for you,” he said. He tilted his head, his eyes curious. “I’m surprised to see you alone, though. Where’s Seb?” 

“After what he went through? You seriously expect him to be up and about already?” 

Rosier’s face fell, no longer cocky, but serious. “He’s hurt?” 

MC studied him, unsure if he was bluffing. “Rookwood didn’t brag about his little torture show?” 

“No, he did not,” Rosier said tightly. His hands let go of her shoulders as he shook his head in annoyance. “Rookwood didn’t say an awful lot, to tell the truth. Is Seb alright?” 

Perhaps Rosier’s concern was genuine, but MC didn’t have time to debate it out. Whilst he was distracted thinking about Sebastian, she sat up, using her momentum to slam into him and take him by surprise. He grunted and lost his balance, falling sideways into the leaves. Her legs were still bound, but she threw her weight on top of him, aiming down at the ropes, and cast quickly. The ropes disintegrated, and as he grabbed her by the arms, she fought back, swinging her leg over until she could straddle his chest. She pressed a hand to his throat making him choke, forcing him to still, her wand tip pressed into his cheek. 

She smirked down at his surprised face. “I told you not to get too cocky.” 

His eyes gleamed as he smiled. “Nice moves. Sallow’s girl through and through, ain’t you, love?” He said, his throat bobbing under her palm. His gaze swept down over her, his eyebrows lifting up playfully. “This is quite the view, though. Can’t say I’m complaining.” 

Narrowing her eyes, she pressed the tip of her wand deeper into his cheek. “Keep it in your pants, Prince Charming,” she warned. “Look all you want, but keep your hands to yourself.” 

He groaned and bit his lip. “Merlin’s balls, you’re turning me on, love. Didn’t I tell you?  I love a feisty bunny.” 

She gaped at him and he laughed, his hands wrapping snugly around her wrists. “Relax, love. I’m messing with you. Seb would have my bollocks on a platter if I so much as laid one finger on you. He ain’t the revealing type, likes to play his cards close to his chest, but he has got it bad for you. I can tell.” 

She looked pointedly at his hands around her wrists. “You’ve laid more than a few fingers on me so far. A little daring for one who seems overly confident about his dick appeal. Maybe I should platter you up right now, hmm? I don’t need Seb’s help for that.” 

A delighted bark of laughter escaped him. “Oh, you are delicious. There will be no need for that, though. What can I say? I love a good game of flirting, and you are far too lovely to pass up on the opportunity for a spot of banter.” 

“You call tackling women to the ground flirting?” She wrinkled her nose in disapproval. 

“I couldn’t risk you disappearing on me now, could I?” He said, grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got that all powerful ancient magic thing in your favour. I had to give myself at least a little fighting chance.” 

She eyed him carefully. “So, what’s the plan? Are you to take me to Rookwood now that you have caught me?” 

“That is what he wanted,” Rosier said, attempting to ease her hand from his throat. “Care to do a man a favour, and come quietly?”

She gave his throat a gentle squeeze. “What if I won’t go willingly? I’m not too impressed with his performance earlier this morning. He made me watch as he tortured Sebastian and his sister in the dirt. Rookwood can go fuck himself. What do you say to that?” 

Rosier was quiet for a moment, considering her words. “Sebastian’s sister?” 

“Yes, his twin. Anne,” MC nodded. She frowned as a look of stunned realisation swept over his face. “You do know about her, right?” 

“Anne is Sebastian’s twin? I had no bloody idea!” He exclaimed. “Seb never really spoke much about his family. He always got cagey whenever the subject came up. When Rookwood mentioned this girl, Anne, I had no idea of the connection.” 

“What did Rookwood say about her? Do you know where she is?” 

She felt him swallow under her hand, his eyes wary as he spoke. “What makes you think I would know that?” 

“Sebastian will start ripping heads from necks if Rookwood has done anything to hurt his sister,” she said. 

He nodded awkwardly, still holding her wrists. “I can quite imagine it.”

“You and Sebastian seemed friendly enough. You shared a tent after all. Is there any honour amongst thieves?” She asked, shifting her weight on him. 

His eyes narrowed. “What are you asking me?” 

“I’m not going to let you drag me before Rookwood. There has been enough of that for one day,” she said bitterly. “I want to know how loyal you are to him. You may be buddies with Sebastian, but I don’t know if I can trust you.” 

“How about I prove my worth to you?” 

“I’m listening,” she said, tense and ready, her wand still pressed to his cheek. 

He cleared his throat and she eased her grip a little. “I know where Anne is. But, if you think you’re going to just waltz in and get her out, you’re mistaken. Luella is the keeper of the charm holding the house, and like I’ve warned you before, she isn’t a bitch you want to cross.” 

Hatred made MC’s skin crawl as she thought about Rookwood’s entitled bitch of a daughter. “I’ve come face to face with a few bitches in my time, Rosier. Luella Rookwood made her first mistake thinking she could put her hands on Sebastian. She picked a fight with the wrong woman when she pissed me off.” 

Rosier flinched back, letting go of her wrists as he stared up at her. “What the fuck is that in your eyes? They are glowing blue.” 

Her smile was slow as she dragged the tip of her wand down his face. “A reminder not to fuck with me,” she warned. “I still don’t trust you. Ashwinders are aptly named. Slithering snakes born out of chaos, spreading your flames until you’re all burnt out.” 

“You’ve made your point,” he said, swallowing hard. “Let me up, and I’ll take you to where Anne is being held. There isn’t a lot of honour amongst thieves, but Seb has always had my back and I’ve always had his. You can trust me on that.” 

“Time will tell, I guess,” she said, releasing her hold. Keeping her wand at the ready, she got to her feet, hesitating for a moment before holding out her hand towards him. “If this is some kind of trick, don’t think I won’t hurt you. I didn’t get sent to Azkaban for making daisy chains.” 

He eyed her hand, and then smiled as he took hold of it, allowing her to haul him up. He got to his feet, brushing loose leaves from his coat. “I’m only a fool when it comes to bedding pretty women. When it comes to survival, I know which side of my bread is buttered, love.” 

Now that he was back on his feet, his face held that ridiculously charming smile. She figured that smile could be dangerous to the unsuspecting victim. He made you want to smile back, the smoothness of his voice a clever ploy to lure you in. 

“So, where are we going?” She asked, expecting it to be somewhere like Rookwood’s old family estate, or maybe even somewhere in London. 

“Hogsmeade,” Rosier said, holding out his arm like a fine gentleman escorting his lady. “Shall we?” 

He returned her look of surprise with another disarming smile. She hoped to gods she didn’t regret this, but slipped her arm through his under the shifting shadows of the trees, that gut twisting tug behind her navel making her gag as they vanished. They landed on the windswept, craggy hill above Hogsmeade, the tall pointy roofs of the village spread out below them under a shroud of misty rain. The lights appeared like yellow, hazy glows, and in the distance stood the huge, hulking mass of Hogwarts. A magical, slumbering giant under low, heavy clouds. 

Rosier held a finger to lips and pointed to an abandoned building clinging to the edge of the rocky hillside, the flickering light of a candle dancing in a low level window. MC creased her brow in memory. She had been here before, a long time ago. Rosier took out his wand and cast the Disillusionment charm, his form vanishing in the misty rain. MC swiped at the dampness gathering on her cheek and did the same, apprehension settling in her chest. 

A hand sought out hers, warm fingers clasping firmly, but gently. “Follow me,” Rosier whispered. 

To be continued...

Tagging: @eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[mypoisonedvine]

Humbly requesting knotting with werewolf bill pleaseeeeee I’m thirsty 🥺

oh god oh jesus oh no oh god oh jesus this got out of hand quickly...

warnings: knotting and a few other a/b/o tropes but technically not a/b/o cause reader is 'normal', semi-werewolf bill (I don't get into the specifics it's porn), size kink and some pain, breeding kink, biting/marking kink

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, but his grip was getting tighter on your thighs; you knew he needed this. It's why you agreed in the first place— but the little fucker kept stalling.

Okay, actually, not a little fucker. That was exactly what was holding him back now: knowing he was anything but little.

"I would never forgive myself, really," he insisted, "if you— if it hurt you. If I—"

"Bill, it's okay," you promised. "I can take it."

You weren't actually totally sure of that; now that you'd seen his cock, and now that you'd read about werewolves and their... mating, you were a bit nervous that he really would ruin you. But you at least wanted to try— and you knew that whatever he needed, you could give. "But if you need me to stop—"

"I know," you sighed, "you'll be the first to know."

He sighed, looking down at you and tilting his head slightly. "You're too good to me," he breathed.

"Hey, just a favour between friends," you insisted, even though it was obviously more than that; he laughed a little, knowing this was beyond the typical bounds of a friendly offering. But you'd been the one to suggest it, when he explained to you how sick he could get if he didn't give in to his breeding instinct, and he had only checked that you really meant it about a thousand times before he agreeing to it.

His cock was already hard, of course; actually, it was throbbing, like it knew what was coming. He'd been struggling to control himself as soon as he smelled you— your cunt, your arousal, he swore he could hear your heartbeat. His body longed to fill you, breed you, claim you, and it was a little more than just his newfound werewolf qualities talking... but he wasn't quite acknowledging that consciously at the moment.

He laid his cock down over your stomach, pressing his base right up to where it would meet you if he was balls deep, and almost snarled at the sight of his tip surpassing your belly button. "S'how deep it's gonna be..." he whispered to you.

You swallowed thickly. "I can fit it. At least I'll try."

He shut his eyes, summoning a few more moments of patience, swearing to himself that he would be gentle with you even if it took more self-control than he felt he had at the moment.

"I-it's okay if you don't want to, with me," you added quickly, nervous with the way he seemed to keep hesitating. "It was just an idea..."

But he was so focused on admiring your body under him, your spread legs and the wet, waiting cunt between them— soft skin, a patient stare on your face; there was a sick little voice in his mind, shouting out from one of the deepest corners ruin, ruin, ruin. He needed you to be his. He knew how dangerous this was; but it nearly killed him last rut, not being able to fuck anything but his hand. He already felt the base of his cock pulsing, ready to swell and knot anything at this point. "I want you," he whispered. "Really fucking bad. Is that okay?"

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's okay. I want you to do it, Bill— take me. I wanna help you."

He nodded a little, before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was gentle, shockingly so— that was the last of his human resolve, it felt like. It was the way he imagined he should've kissed you a long time ago, if he wasn't always too nervous to try. You kissed him back, reaching up to gently hold onto his arms. You felt... little. Smaller than usual. Maybe it was your shyness, or maybe it was just that he felt big in times like this.

He pressed his swollen head to your opening, and sighed as he plunged forward. Your nails dug into his skin, but he kept going; you whined against his lips, but he kept going, going going until he was flush against you and your eyes were rolled back in your head. "F-fuck, Bill— s'deep..."

"Fuck," he groaned, lifting you up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close; he needed to feel you everywhere, as much as he could. "Is it hurting you?"

"No, fuck," you promised, holding onto him in return, "just move. I'm ready."

He tried to be slow, really, but it was hard not to just let his animal side take over. With all his patience, he managed to keep it not-quite-rushed but still not delicate either; you whined and hid your face in the crook of his neck, so he kissed the side of your head as he tried to remind himself not to hurt you. "It won't take me long," he assured, thinking that was a good thing in this case since you were probably struggling with it. "I— I haven't at all, since... since it happened. And I need it more than ever."

He saw your bare shoulder, and he shuddered with desire.

"You're so pretty," he breathed, "I want— I wanna bite you. Fuck, is that weird?"

"Do it," you pleaded, baring your neck for him; he was totally helpless to that, and he licked all over your skin before carefully sinking his teeth in. "Fuck! Bill, fuck, I like it— I like when you do that to me..."

He growled and did it again, on your shoulder; he wanted to mark you all over until you could never hide what he'd done to you. "Tell me it feels good," he demanded.

"It feels— oh god, Bill, it feels really fucking good... your cock is— fuck!" you moaned, and he could feel you shaking in his arms.

"I want you to come first," he whispered, "it might make it easier to take. I don't think I'll last much longer..."

He held your hips and tilted them just right, so your clit could grind against the spot above his cock— which was already just about ready to knot you, by the way, but he was holding it back somehow— and he hoped you wouldn't mind that he hadn't done much to tame the wild ginger hairs there.

He almost lost his cool when you started to rub yourself on him, rocking your hips just the way you needed, moaning louder in his ear. All he could've hoped for was that this would satisfy him, but clearly you loved it too, and that made him twice as desperate in an instant. "Fuck, it's coming— the knot," he warned with a gasp. "M'gonna breed you. Fuck. Gonna give you pups."

"Bill," you sobbed, but he couldn't stop talking as he fucked you faster and rougher than ever.

"Gonna be so fucking pretty— so fucking full," he groaned, "full of me. Gonna be mine now."

"Yeah," you panted.

"Gonna be so good for me, m'gonna breed you over and over—"

"Fuck!" you whimpered, and he could feel you pulsing, creaming around him; it was enough to make a growl echo in his chest.

"Mine," he insisted again, "my girl. Say it."

"Yours," you promised, "fuck, I want it— knot me, Bill, breed me—"

He already was, as soon as you said he was yours: the base of his cock filled and he heard your words break into a shaky sob as it pushed you to your absolute limits. He'd imagined he might pull the knot out of you before it got too big, to save you the pain, but now that he was here he had no intentions of keeping it anywhere but safe and warm inside you. "Good girl," he praised, "all fucking mine. Can you feel it? Feel me breeding you?"

You were speechless, just shivering and nodding; he could feel your tears, they were running down his chest as you pressed your face against him, and he should've felt guilty for how much he loved it.

Still, a bit of sanity was returning now that his knot was inside you, his come filling you— and not a drop of it would go to waste, with him keeping you plugged like this.

He held tighter onto you and laid you back on the beg again, kissing your tear-stained face.

"Tell me you're okay," he requested quietly, and you just nodded. "I'm sorry, I— not everything I said was— you won't get pregnant, there's a potion for it."

You smiled a little. "It's fine."

"It's fine, as in, it's fine that I said it, or... it's fine, you won't take the potion?"

Your wide, teary eyes looked up at him, and he figured he might have said too much, but he couldn't find the heart to take it back. "Would you... I mean, would you let me—?"

"Would I let you have my baby?" he chuckled. "It's your choice."

"That's... a pretty big favour for a friend," you mumbled, and he laughed before he nuzzled his face against yours.

"How about if I'm in love with you? What then?" he whispered. "And if you loved me to? Maybe we could..."

"Yeah," you breathed, "okay. Maybe."

He purred happily as he kissed one of your tears away. "Good," he said, "because I think when this knot goes down, we might have to start all over."

[thatsoanjie]

Hometown

Sebastian Sallow x Muggle born! reader

Summary : Sebastian visits you and your family home the summer after your sixth year. You sort through childhood trinkets, share a moment you thought you weren't prepared for, and more ensues.

Word count : 7.6k

Notes : Dual POV! Chose West Sussex for this one lol. Also your muggle parents' names are Thea and Gerald.

No warnings! Just some good fluff lol.

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the rolling hills of West Sussex. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, a stark contrast to the harsh, windswept moors of Feldcroft. Sebastian Sallow stood on the edge of your family garden, gazing out at the landscape with a mix of wonder and curiosity. It was his first time visiting your home, and he found himself captivated by the serene beauty of the countryside.

"It's so different from Feldcroft," he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You stood a few paces away, turning to look at him, a hint of amusement flickering in your dark eyes. "Not used to all this greenery, Sallow?"

He grinned, his eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. "It's not that. Feldcroft has its own kind of beauty, but it's… harsher, I suppose. This place feels more… peaceful."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "West Sussex is like that. It's always been a place where I could escape, especially when things get overwhelming."

He watched you for a moment, noticing the way the evening light softened your features, making you seem almost ethereal. "I can see why you'd want to escape here," he said softly.

You looked away, trying to maintain your usual cool exterior, but there was a slight flush to your cheeks that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. "Come on," you said briskly, turning on your heel and heading toward the house. "I want to show you something."

Sebastian followed you inside, his curiosity piqued. Your home was a charming, old-fashioned house, filled with the kind of warmth and character that only years of happy memories could create. The walls were lined with framed photographs, many of them showing a younger version of yourself with your family, your smile more open and carefree than he had ever seen at Hogwarts.

"Your house is lovely," he remarked as you both climbed the stairs to the second floor. "It's got a lot of personality."

"Thanks," you replied casually. "It's been in the family for generations. My grandparents used to live here, and my parents inherited it when they passed away."

You led him down a narrow hallway to a small, cozy room at the end. The walls were painted a soft lavender, and the shelves were lined with books, trinkets, and other mementos from your childhood. A large, antique trunk sat at the foot of the bed, its surface worn with age.

"This is my room," you said, your voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "I've had it since I was a kid."

Sebastian glanced around, taking in the details that gave him a glimpse into your past. "It suits you," he said, his voice soft.

You rolled your eyes, though there was no real annoyance in the gesture. "Don't get all sentimental on me, Sallow."

He chuckled, crossing the room to stand beside you. "Wouldn't dream of it."

You knelt beside the trunk, your fingers brushing over the worn wood as you opened it. "I thought you might like to see some of the things I’ve kept from when I was younger," you said, your tone casual, though there was a hint of vulnerability in your words.

Sebastian crouched down next to you, his interest piqued. "I'd love to."

You began pulling out various items, laying them on the floor between you. There were old, dog-eared books, a few stuffed animals, and a collection of pressed flowers, each one carefully preserved between the pages of a faded journal. As you worked, you explained the significance of each item, your voice growing softer and more thoughtful as you reminisced about your childhood.

"These were some of my favorite books," you said, handing him a well-worn copy of The Secret Garden. "I used to read them over and over again. They were my escape, I suppose, before I knew there was a real world of magic out there."

Sebastian took the book from you, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment before you pulled away. "I can imagine you with your nose buried in a book," he said with a grin. "Even before Hogwarts, you were always the serious type, huh?"

You huffed, though there was a faint smile on your lips. "I wasn’t always so serious. But I guess Hogwarts brought out a different side of me."

He studied you for a moment, noting the way you seemed more relaxed here, in the safety of your childhood home. "I like seeing this side of you," he said quietly. "It's different, but… it suits you."

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, and you quickly busied yourself with the trunk, pulling out the next item to avoid meeting his gaze. "Here," you said, holding up a small, wooden box. "This is something I haven’t looked at in years."

You opened the box, revealing a collection of small trinkets—shells, stones, and other bits and pieces that you had gathered over the years. Sebastian reached in and picked up a smooth, blue stone, turning it over in his hand.

"This is pretty," he remarked, his voice thoughtful. "Where did you find it?"

You smiled, your expression softening as you remembered. "I found it on a family holiday to Cornwall when I was seven. I was convinced it was a magical stone, like something out of one of my books. I carried it with me everywhere."

He chuckled, holding the stone up to the light. "It’s not magical, but it’s got its own charm."

You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange mixture of affection and nervousness. There was something about the way he handled your old belongings, with such care and interest, that made your heart ache in a way you weren’t used to.

"You know," he said, his tone turning more serious, "it's moments like these that make me realize how different our lives were before Hogwarts. You had all this… this warmth, this history. Feldcroft was… well, you know what it’s like. It’s hard, isolated. Anne and I didn’t have much besides each other."

Your gaze softened, and you placed a hand on his arm. "You had each other, and that’s something. I didn’t have a sibling, but I always wanted one. I’m glad you had Anne."

He looked down at your hand, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled, a bit of the old mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "You’re different," he said, his voice low and teasing. "I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone quite like you."

You quickly pulled your hand back, trying to maintain your composed exterior, though your heart was racing. "Don’t start, Sallow," you warned, though your tone was more playful than serious.

But he was undeterred, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Start what? Telling you that you’re intriguing? That I enjoy spending time with you?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re impossible."

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Maybe. But you like me anyway."

You tried to give him a stern look, but it was difficult to keep your composure when he was so close, his familiar scent filling your senses. "You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I just call it like I see it."

For a moment, the room was filled with a charged silence, the air thick with unspoken words and feelings. It was a moment of vulnerability, of closeness, that neither of you had quite expected. Your heart raced as you struggled to keep your cool, while Sebastian’s gaze softened, as though he were seeing you in a new light.

Finally, it was you who broke the tension, reaching for another item in the trunk. "Here," you said, your voice a bit too bright. "I want to show you this."

Sebastian watched you for a moment longer, as though considering whether to push the matter, but then he relented, leaning back to give you space.

You pulled out an old, leather-bound journal, its pages yellowed with age. "This was my first journal," you explained, your tone more subdued now. "I started it when I was eight. I used to write about everything—my dreams, my fears, the things I wanted to do when I grew up."

He took the journal from you, flipping through the pages with a gentle touch. "Did you ever write about magic?" he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, a wistful smile on your lips. "All the time. I didn’t know it was real, of course, but I was fascinated by the idea of it. I used to imagine that I was a witch, living in a world full of magical creatures and hidden powers."

Sebastian’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, his expression thoughtful. "And now you’re living that dream."

"Yes," you agreed, though your tone was tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But it’s different from what I imagined. The reality is… more complicated."

He nodded, understanding the weight behind your words. "It always is. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it."

You looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite name. There was something about Sebastian—something in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke to you—that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t been before. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"For what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"For being here," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor. "For understanding."

He reached out, gently lifting your chin so that you were looking at him again. "I’m glad I’m here," he said. "And I’m glad you let me in."

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Sebastian leaned in, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, you considered closing the distance between you. But then, at the last moment, you pulled back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"We should… we should get some rest," you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. "It’s getting late."

Sebastian blinked, surprised by your sudden change in demeanor, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you’re right. Tomorrow’s another day."

He stood up, stretching his arms over his head as he prepared to leave. "Thanks for showing me all this," he said, his tone genuine. "It means a lot that you’d share it with me."

You managed a small smile, though your heart was still racing. "I’m glad you’re here, Sebastian. I really am."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. "Goodnight," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Goodnight," you replied, watching as he left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, your hand coming up to rest against your chest as you tried to steady your racing heart. You had managed to keep your cool, but just barely. There was no denying the pull you felt toward Sebastian, but you knew you had to be careful. You couldn’t afford to let your emotions get the better of you, not when there was so much at stake.

But as you sat there, surrounded by the remnants of your childhood, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was a future for you two beyond friendship. It was a dangerous thought, one that you weren’t quite ready to entertain. But it was there, lingering in the back of your mind, a quiet whisper of what could be.

And as you finally settled into bed, your thoughts drifting to the boy who had become so much more than just a friend, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that whatever the future held, it was bound to be anything but ordinary.

·····

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian closed the door to the guest room quietly, letting out a long, slow breath as he leaned back against the wood. His heart was still pounding in his chest, a mixture of adrenaline and something else—something that had been building for years, ever since you had walked into his life.

West Sussex was nothing like Feldcroft. It was peaceful here, almost idyllic, with its rolling hills and lush gardens. The kind of place he might have daydreamed about as a kid, before the world had gotten so complicated. But it wasn’t the beauty of the countryside that had him restless tonight. It was you.

You were unlike anyone he’d ever met—mysterious, guarded, and yet so incredibly captivating. From the moment you arrived at Hogwarts in your fifth year, you intrigued him. But it wasn’t just curiosity anymore. The feelings he had for you had deepened, grown into something he wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

As he moved to the small window in the guest room, looking out at the moonlit garden below, his thoughts were consumed by the events of the evening. He could still see you there, sitting on the floor of your childhood room, surrounded by memories you’d chosen to share with him. It had been a rare glimpse into the side of you that you didn’t often reveal—a side that was vulnerable, human, and so beautifully real.

And then there had been that moment—that moment—when he’d almost kissed you.

He could still feel the warmth of your breath, the soft brush of your fingers as they’d touched while going through your childhood things. It had taken every ounce of restraint not to close the distance between you, to lean in and finally see what it would be like to kiss you, to taste the lips that had haunted his dreams for so long.

But you had pulled away. And that, more than anything, had left him reeling.

Sebastian wasn’t used to feeling uncertain. He was usually confident, even cocky, but you had a way of knocking him off balance. You had a coolness about you, a way of keeping your emotions in check that made him feel like he was always chasing, always trying to catch up.

But tonight, in that room, he’d seen something else. A flicker of something in your eyes, a moment of hesitation that told him you weren’t as unaffected as you pretended to be. It gave him hope—a dangerous, exhilarating hope—that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same way he did.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a surge of frustration. He was good at reading people, but you were a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved. Every time he thought he was getting close, you pulled back, retreating behind that carefully constructed facade of yours. It was maddening, but it was also what drew him to you even more.

Sighing, Sebastian moved away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed. He knew he should get some sleep, but his mind was too wired, too full of thoughts of you. The way you’d looked at him, the softness in your voice when you’d thanked him for understanding… It was a side of you he wanted to see more of, a side he wanted to bring out of you, even if it meant pushing a little harder, taking a few risks.

But then there was the other side of it—the fear that if he pushed too hard, he might scare you away. The last thing he wanted was to lose whatever it was you had, this delicate balance of friendship, flirtation, and something deeper that neither of you had quite dared to name.

Sebastian leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves outside the window. In the stillness, his thoughts drifted back to Feldcroft, to the harsh, windswept landscape that had been his home for so long. It was a place that had shaped him, hardened him, but it was also a place full of memories he’d rather forget.

Coming to your hometown was like stepping into another world, one that was softer, warmer, and so full of life. It was a world he wanted to be a part of, a world that you had invited him into, even if you hadn’t fully realized it yet.

He closed his eyes, the image of your smiling face lingering in his mind. There was a part of him that wanted to rush things, to make you see what was right in front of you. But there was another part—perhaps the wiser part—that knew he had to be patient. You were worth the wait, worth the effort, and if he wanted to win you over, he’d have to do it on your terms.

But damn if it wasn’t difficult.

He felt the weight of your journal in his hand, the one he hadn’t quite been able to let go of after you handed it to him. It was a piece of you, something deeply personal, and he found himself opening it, flipping through the pages with care.

The entries were written in a neat, precise hand, filled with the thoughts and dreams of a younger you, a girl who hadn’t yet been touched by the complexities of the magical world. He smiled as he read about your childhood fantasies, your belief in magic long before you knew it was real. It was like seeing a part of you that had been hidden away, a part that was still innocent and hopeful.

He paused on one entry, written in faded ink, the words barely legible. It was a dream you’d had, about a world where everything was possible, where you could be anything you wanted to be. You’d written about wanting to be strong, to make a difference, to find your place in a world that often felt too big, too overwhelming.

Sebastian felt a pang in his chest as he read those words, understanding all too well the feeling of being lost, of trying to find your way in a world that didn’t always make sense. But you had found your way, and you were stronger than you realized. It was one of the things he admired most about you, one of the things that made him want to be by your side, no matter what.

He closed the journal, setting it gently on the bedside table before lying back down. Sleep still felt distant, but he knew he needed to try. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to figure out where you both stood, to see if there was something more between you waiting to be discovered.

But as he tried to fall asleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: he was falling for you, and there was no turning back. Whatever happened next, he was in this—completely, utterly, and without reservation.

And he could only hope that, in time, you might feel the same way too.

·····

Your POV

The water cascaded down in a steady stream, warm against your skin as you stood under the showerhead, letting the heat soak into your muscles. But no matter how soothing the water was, it couldn’t wash away the frustration that churned inside you.

Why had you pulled away from him? The question kept circling in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. You’d felt it—the moment, the one where the air between you had practically crackled with tension, where the closeness, the intimacy, had felt like a fragile thread just waiting to be tugged. And yet, at the last second, you had stepped back, put distance between you and Sebastian, the boy who had somehow, over the past year, managed to get under your skin in a way no one else ever had.

You turned off the water with a sharp twist of the knob, the sound of the showerhead sputtering to a stop the only noise in the bathroom. The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the echoes of your own thoughts. You were angry—angry at yourself for being so guarded, for letting fear and caution dictate your actions.

You stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The person staring back at you was composed, calm, the same mask you wore every day. But beneath that exterior was a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to control, a whirlwind of longing, confusion, and something else—something that scared you.

You wanted him. There was no denying it anymore, no point in pretending that you didn’t feel the same pull, the same desire that he so clearly felt. But you had always been so careful, so determined to keep yourself in check, to avoid the pitfalls of vulnerability that could lead to heartache.

But now, standing there in the dim light of the bathroom, you realized that maybe—just maybe—being careful wasn’t enough anymore. Maybe it was time to take a risk, to stop holding back and let yourself feel, let yourself be open to whatever it was that Sebastian had been offering, had been waiting for.

Your heart pounded as you dried off, slipping into a soft, comfortable set of pajamas, your mind racing as you made up your mind. You had pulled away from him once, but you didn’t have to keep running. Not from him. Not from what you wanted.

Wrapping your towel around your damp hair, you took a deep breath and made your way to the guest room where Sebastian was staying. The house was quiet, the only sound the creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet as you padded down the hallway. With each step, your resolve strengthened, and by the time you reached his door, you were determined to finish what he had started.

You hesitated for only a moment before raising your hand and knocking softly. The sound seemed to echo in the silence of the night, and you held your breath, waiting.

There was a pause, and then you heard his voice, soft and questioning. “Yeah?"

"Sebastian," you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. "It’s me."

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there he was, standing in the dim light of the guest room, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was still dressed in his clothes from earlier, though his shirt was rumpled, and his hair was slightly tousled, as though he had been lying down.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting his as you stepped closer. "I’m sorry," you said quietly, the words coming out more easily than you’d expected. "For earlier. For pulling away."

His expression softened, and he stepped back to let you into the room, closing the door gently behind you. "You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn’t," you assured him quickly, shaking your head. "That’s not it. I just… I’m not used to this. To feeling like this."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he nodded slowly, his voice tender as he spoke. "Neither am I, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for."

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he might be holding back for your sake, that he was willing to put his own feelings aside just to make sure you were comfortable. But more than that, you felt a surge of affection for him, for the way he had always been patient with you, even when you had given him every reason not to be.

"Sebastian," you said softly, taking a step closer until you were standing just inches away from him, "I’m ready. I’m here because I want to be. With you."

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you palpable, charged with the weight of everything unspoken. Then, slowly, as if afraid you might change your mind, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re sure?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

You nodded, your own voice trembling slightly as you replied, "I’m sure."

That was all the encouragement he needed. In the next moment, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, his warmth seeping into you as you melted against him. It was the first time you had ever allowed yourself to be this close to him, to let your guard down completely, and it was intoxicating.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "I’ve wanted this for so long."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Me too," you admitted to both him and yourself, the words soft, almost fragile.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression tender, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. His hand slid down to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a gentleness that made your chest tighten.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid to break the spell that had settled over you.

But you didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to go back to the way things had been, always holding back, always pretending that you didn’t feel the way you did. So instead of pulling away, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses.

It was soft, tentative, as if you were both testing the waters, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you, a spark that ignited something deep inside. Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening slightly on your waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips warm and insistent against yours.

You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingertips. It was all so new, so overwhelming, but at the same time, it felt right—like this was where you were meant to be, in his arms, with his lips on yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The room was filled with a heavy silence, but it was a silence that spoke volumes, that said all the things you hadn’t yet found the words to say.

"I don’t want to hold back anymore," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. "I want to be with you, Sebastian."

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. "Well, now you’ve heard it," you replied, your tone light, but your words filled with sincerity. "And I mean it."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that made your breath catch in your throat. "I want this too," he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I want you."

There was something in the way he said it, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just about the attraction, the physical pull you felt toward him. It was deeper than that, something that had been building between you for months, something that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.

It was a connection, a bond that went beyond friendship, beyond the flirtation that had danced between you. It was something real, something that had the potential to be so much more if you were both brave enough to let it.

And in that moment, as you stood there in the quiet of the guest room, you realized that you were ready. You were ready to take that step, to let yourself feel, to let yourself be open to whatever it was that you had with Sebastian.

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian had barely settled into the guest room, his thoughts still a tangled mess from earlier, when there was a soft knock on his door. His heart leapt into his throat, recognizing the sound immediately—your knock.

"Yeah?" he called softly, not entirely trusting his voice to stay steady.

"Sebastian" came your reply, a quiet affirmation that sent his pulse racing even faster. "It’s me."

For a moment, he hesitated, a whirlwind of emotions storming inside him. He had convinced himself that tonight was over, that whatever had been brewing between you two would have to wait, maybe forever. But here you were, standing outside his door in the dead of night, and he could hardly believe it.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides and opened the door, finding you standing there in your pajamas, your hair still damp from the shower, your eyes searching his face with an intensity that made his breath catch.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, the words coming out before he could think them through. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was anything less than thrilled to see you there.

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his, and in that moment, Sebastian felt the air between you crackle with that same electric tension you had shared earlier. "I’m sorry," you said, your voice so soft and vulnerable that it cut right through him. "For earlier. For pulling away."

Sebastian’s heart twisted at the sight of you like this—unsure, almost apologetic, when you had no reason to be. He stepped back to let you in, closing the door behind you as a wave of protectiveness washed over him. "You don’t have to apologize," he said gently, trying to reassure you. "I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn’t," you insisted, shaking your head. "That’s not it. I just… I’m not used to this. To feeling like this."

Your words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, Sebastian was struck silent by the raw honesty in them. He had always known that you were different, that you kept your emotions close to your chest, guarded by that cool facade you wore so well. But hearing you admit that you were struggling with these feelings, that you were feeling just as conflicted and overwhelmed as he was… it made him want to reach out, to close the gap between you and tell you that you didn’t have to go through this alone.

"Neither am I, if I’m being honest," he confessed, his voice tender. "But I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for."

It was the truth. Sebastian had always been drawn to you, fascinated by your quiet strength, your intelligence, the way you carried yourself with a calm confidence that made others take notice. But he also knew how easily you could retreat behind that wall of yours, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, too fast.

"Sebastian," you said softly, taking another step closer, until you were just inches apart. He could feel the warmth of your body, the faint scent of your soap still clinging to your skin, and it made his heart race all over again. "I’m ready. I’m here because I want to be. With you."

The words hit him like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve in his body. For a moment, he simply stared at you, hardly daring to believe that this was real. But the sincerity in your eyes, the way you were looking at him, was all the confirmation he needed.

His breath hitched as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed his fingers against your cheek. "You’re sure?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He needed to hear you say it again, needed to know that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I’m sure."

And that was it. The last thread of restraint inside him snapped, and he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could somehow shield you from everything else in the world. The feel of you against him, soft and warm, sent a shiver down his spine, and he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he let the moment wash over him.

"I’ve wanted this for so long," he whispered, his voice shaking with the intensity of his feelings.

You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing, the rise and fall of your chest against his. "Me too," you murmured, the words so soft that they barely reached his ears, but they were enough to make his heart swell with emotion.

Sebastian pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face, memorizing the way you looked at him, the way you seemed to glow in the soft light of the room. His hand slid down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline with a tenderness that he didn’t think he was capable of.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He needed you to know that you were in control, that he would never push you further than you wanted to go.

But instead of pulling away, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in the faintest of kisses. It was tentative, hesitant, but it sent a bolt of electricity straight through him, igniting a fire that had been smoldering for months.

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that he could no longer deny. The world outside the room seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, caught in the whirlwind of your emotions, your desires.

Your hands slid up his chest, fingers tangling in his shirt as you responded to his kiss, your movements just as desperate, just as full of need. It was everything he had imagined, everything he had dreamed about, but it was also so much more, so much deeper, because it was real.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The room was silent, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts, but it was a silence that spoke of all the things you hadn’t said, all the things you had been too afraid to admit.

"I don’t want to hold back anymore," you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. "I want to be with you, Sebastian."

Sebastian felt his heart swell at your words, felt the last of his doubts melt away in the warmth of your confession. He let out a shaky laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Well, now you’ve heard it," you replied, your tone light, but your words filled with sincerity. "And I mean it."

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze soft and filled with a tenderness that he had never felt for anyone else. "I want this too," he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a gentle caress. "I want you."

And it was the truth. He wanted you, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But it wasn’t just about the attraction, the physical pull he felt toward you. It was deeper than that, something that had been building between you for months, something that neither of you had been willing to acknowledge until now.

It was a connection, a bond that went beyond friendship, beyond the flirtation that had danced between you. It was something real, something that had the potential to be so much more if you were both brave enough to let it.

And as he stood there, holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, Sebastian knew that he was ready. He was ready to take that step, to let himself feel, to let himself be open to whatever it was that you had together.

So, when you leaned in again, your lips finding his in a kiss that was deeper, more certain, he didn’t hesitate. He kissed you back with everything he had, pouring all of his emotions into that one moment, letting you know without words that he was all in, that he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

And as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, he knew that this was only the beginning.

Whatever the future held, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were in this together, and that was more than enough for him.

Because in this moment, with you in his arms, he knew that he had found something real, something worth holding on to.

And he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

****

Your POV – The morning after

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden light across the room. You blinked slowly, the events of the previous night coming back to you in a rush of emotion. The memories were vivid—Sebastian’s touch, the tenderness in his gaze, the way he had held you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. You turned your head on the pillow, your heart swelling at the sight of him beside you, still sound asleep, his breathing soft and even.

For a moment, you simply watched him, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. Last night had been more than you could have ever hoped for—filled with intimacy, trust, and the quiet understanding that whatever had been brewing between you had finally found its place.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed, your feet touching the cool wooden floor. As you stood, wrapping yourself in a robe, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what your parents would say when they saw the two of you together this morning.

You were certain they had been waiting for this moment almost as long as you had.

The house was quiet as you made your way downstairs, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. You found your parents in the kitchen, your mother, Thea, standing by the stove while your father, Gerald, sat at the table, reading the morning paper.

“Good morning,” you greeted, your voice a bit softer than usual, as though you were afraid to break the gentle peace that had settled over the house.

“Good morning, darling,” your mother replied, turning to you with a warm smile. “Did you sleep well?”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you quickly busied yourself with pouring a cup of coffee. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

Your father glanced up from his paper, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. “So, where’s young Mr. Sallow this morning?”

You nearly choked on your coffee, the blush deepening as you shot your father a look. “He’s… He’ll be down in a bit.”

Your mother exchanged a glance with your father, her smile widening as she turned back to the stove. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before you two finally sorted things out,” she said, her tone light but full of warmth.

You stared at her, a mix of embarrassment and surprise flooding through you. “You knew?”

Gerald chuckled, setting his paper down. “It was fairly obvious, love. The way you two have been dancing around each other for the past year… It was only a matter of time.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, a mixture of relief and amusement filling you. “I didn’t realize we were so transparent.”

Thea turned to face you, her eyes soft and full of understanding. “It’s alright. We’re just happy that you’ve found someone who makes you so happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the emotions of the past day catching up with you. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot.”

Before your mother could respond, you heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his hair still slightly tousled from sleep. He hesitated for a moment when he saw you standing with your parents, but then he offered a sheepish smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Sebastian,” your father greeted, his voice full of warmth. “I trust you slept well?”

Sebastian’s eyes flicked to you, and you could see the faint flush on his cheeks as he replied, “Yes, very well. Thank you.”

“Good, good,” Gerald said with a nod, clearly enjoying the moment. “Breakfast is almost ready. Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

Sebastian glanced at you, a small, tentative smile playing on his lips, before he nodded and moved to sit at the table. You followed suit, taking the seat beside him, your heart fluttering at the thought of how natural it all felt—sitting there with him, with your parents, as though this was how it was always meant to be.

Your mother set a plate of eggs and toast in front of you both, her eyes twinkling with barely concealed amusement. “So,” she began, her tone casual, “how long have you and Sebastian been… you know?”

You nearly dropped your fork, your eyes widening in shock. “Mum!”

Thea laughed, a light, musical sound that only added to your embarrassment. “What? I’m just curious. It’s not every day my daughter brings home such a charming young man.”

Sebastian chuckled beside you, his usual confidence returning as he glanced at your mother. “I think we only just figured that out ourselves, Mrs. Williams.”

Your mother beamed, clearly pleased with his response. “Well, it’s about time, if you ask me. We were starting to wonder if we needed to give you two a little nudge.”

Gerald nodded in agreement, a mischievous smile on his face. “We’ve been watching you two for a while now, and I have to say, it’s nice to see you finally getting on with it.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but there was no denying the warmth that spread through your chest at their words. They had always been supportive, always encouraged you to follow your heart, but hearing them speak so openly about their approval of Sebastian—it meant more than you could put into words.

Sebastian reached under the table, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. You glanced at him, finding his eyes filled with that same tenderness that had been there last night, the one that made your heart swell with affection.

“We’ll try not to disappoint,” he said with a grin, his voice teasing, but there was an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of light conversation and easy laughter, the kind that came naturally when you were surrounded by people who cared for you, who wanted nothing more than to see you happy. And as you sat there, hand in hand with Sebastian, you realized just how lucky you were—to have him, to have your parents, to have this moment.

When breakfast was finished, your parents rose from the table, your mother patting you gently on the shoulder as she passed by. “We’ll leave you two alone for a bit,” she said with a knowing smile. “Take your time.”

As they left the kitchen, you turned to Sebastian, your heart full to bursting with everything you felt for him, everything you hadn’t yet had the chance to say.

“They knew,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

He chuckled, pulling you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. “They did. They’re smarter than we gave them credit for.”

You smiled, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.”

“Apparently not,” he agreed, his voice soft, a hint of amusement lacing his words. “But I’m glad. It feels… good, doesn’t it? To finally be here, with you.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love for this boy who had somehow become so much more than just a friend. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt. “It feels perfect.”

And as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever uncertainties the future held, you would face them together—with the love of your parents behind you, and with Sebastian by your side.

***

This one was funnn!! Thank you for reading, requests are open. Hope you're having a good september!