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anto-pops · 2 months ago

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Restraint - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you.

It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, masturbation, intense pining, possessive behavior, cunnilingus, oral fixation/oral smut, explicit sexual content

This random Monday oneshot is also on Ao3

Sebastian had never been one for subtlety. In Ominis’ own words, he wore his heart on his sleeve and let his emotions fuel his tone, but there was little he could do to remedy that fact. Tiptoeing around a subject or beating around the bush never failed to frustrate him. He preferred it when people said what they meant and meant what they said. Being straight up and getting to the point spared him a headache and prevented him from losing his temper, which was the best case scenario for everyone.

Sebastian said what he wanted, did what he wanted, and never wasted his breath apologizing for his actions when he knew deep down that he wouldn’t mean it anyways. Placations were pointless.

Unless, however, you were involved.

Everything about you had driven Sebastian mad for the last three years. From the moment you had arrived at Hogwarts, he had been completely and utterly entranced by you. Then you’d gone and broken his dueling win streak in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the infatuation had turned into obsession. You were the one person he wouldn’t– no, couldn’t be authentic with. How could he be? You made him stupid. He could barely think straight around you, his mind imbuing him with the sorts of thoughts that would land him in an asylum if he voiced them. If he didn’t filter himself around you, it wouldn’t end well. Not for him, and certainly not for you.

He didn’t know if your obliviousness to his behavior was all for show or if it was completely genuine, but he didn’t want to risk finding out.

“Sebastian?” Your voice made him go rigid, the tired rasp to your voice sending his body’s entire blood supply straight between his legs.

“What?”

“Do you want to work on that History of Magic report with me later? I fell asleep and missed half of the lecture.”

He watched you over the rim of his cup, the steam from the hot chocolate wafting into the air and obscuring his view of you slightly. Of course he knew you’d fallen asleep– he had been watching your head bob up and down for twenty minutes in class before the fatigue had won out and you’d slumped over your desk. Professor Binns was always too preoccupied with floating listlessly around the chalkboard to take notice, which was why Sebastian hadn’t bothered to wake you up. If you were tired, you needed to rest.

More to the point, Sebastian enjoyed watching you when you weren’t looking. What better opportunity was there to do so than while you slept?

Your chin was daintily perched in your palm as you pushed around the food on your plate, waiting patiently for his answer. With your tired smile and half-lidded eyes, he was convinced you were on the verge of passing out again. How late had you stayed up last night? What had you been doing instead of sleeping? Had you gone out with your friends– or Merlin forbid– someone else?

He banished the train of thought from his mind, lest he piss himself off with the possible answers. “Sure. Library?”

“Hm… can we go to your room? If I fall asleep again, at least it’ll be in an actual bed.”

The mental image of you sprawled out on his bed did nothing to alleviate the growing bulge straining against his trousers. His jaw hardened as he breathed in deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his pursed lips. “Yeah, fine. I won’t do the work for you if you fall asleep, though.”

Your tired expression lit up as you beamed at him, and his stomach churned violently. It was pathetic how smitten he was. He knew he would agree to come to class in a ballgown if it meant getting to glimpse that dazzling grin of yours.

The smile he gave you was mildly strained, but you didn’t notice. Thankfully.

Sebastian spent the rest of lunch holding his breath and thinking of anything that fit the criteria of gross and off-putting. He had to. It wasn’t like he could rub one out in the middle of the Great Hall to get rid of the half-mast hidden behind his zipper. He couldn’t even excuse himself to go back to his dorm to take care of it in private– he’d be showcasing the full extent of the problem between his legs to the entire student body if he did. You were none the wiser to his internal turmoil as you rambled on innocently about one thing or another, but he could barely hear you over the rush of blood in his ears.

He checked the giant grandfather clock against the wall. Twenty more minutes for lunch. With any luck, it would prove to be enough time for his cock to calm the fuck down.

—

You were always late.

Sebastian had grown accustomed to your unyielding habit of showing up places behind schedule. In the beginning it had bothered him, if only because he was the exact opposite. He had to be early to everything on his agenda, otherwise he was panicky and on edge. But your reliable tendency to arrive after an agreed upon time was exactly what he needed right now, because if he didn’t kill the boner he’d been sporting since lunch, he was going to lose his fucking mind.

The dorm was empty since all of his roommates were either in the Library or in Hogsmeade, but Sebastian still tried to stifle his noises. Choked moans of your name were bitten back and swallowed as his fist furiously worked the aching length of his cock. There was nothing sensual or graceful about how he moved his hand– it was all frantic. Berserk, even. His fingers were pressed roughly against his shaft, his wrist twisting rapidly over the head as he tried to practically yank his orgasm out. Any other day he would be ashamed of how pitiful he had to look, but not now.

Right now, he was desperate. He had to stave off his cravings for you as a precaution before you showed up, otherwise he knew he’d be done for.

A quick succession of three knocks sounded from the door, halting his movements. Then Sebastian’s blood ran cold when he heard your voice from the other side. “Sebastian? Are you here?”

The stinging slap from his hand clamping over his mouth worked to snap his mind out of its lust-induced haze. Squeezing the base of his cock with bruising strength, Sebastian let his head fall back against the headboard of his bed as tears of frustration and pent-up pleasure filled his eyes. He blinked them back stubbornly, digging his teeth into his thumb as his entire body seized with agitation.

Figures that this was the one time you were actually early.

You started knocking again, your knuckles rapping against the wood of the door faster, your impatience permeating the air on your side of the wall until it was too much to bear.

Sebastian snarled as he hastily stuffed himself back in his pants, at a complete loss for how to proceed. He was hardly in a state to be around you right now. All of this had been so he wouldn’t be a fraught mess around you, but now things were ten times worse. His legs were tense as he swung them over the side of the bed and made his way to the door, taking an extra moment to readjust his painfully hard cock in his pants before undoing the lock and wrenching the door open.

“Finally,” you huffed angrily, your narrowed eyes widening when they took note of his flushed, sweaty face. “Merlin, what’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“You’re early,” Sebastian replied flatly, ignoring your question completely.

“Yeah, Garreth offered to help Poppy out at the stalls for me so I came over sooner. What’s the matter with you?”

“I–” Shit, what did he say? His brain scrambled for an excuse, his red cheeks and disheveled clothing leaving little room for interpretation. Unless… “I was working out. Getting ready for Quidditch next week. I thought I’d have more time to finish up and shower, but now you’re here.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I forgot about Quidditch. Figures Imelda is making you prepare early,” you waved your hand over your shoulder in the general direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead, don’t stop on my account. I can start reviewing what notes I did manage to take today.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure whether or not he was grateful for your lack of attention. The clueless facade you maintained where he was concerned made him equal parts angry and confused. Didn’t you know he was a man? An eighteen year old man who catered to your every whim? A legal adult whose room you spent an unorthodox amount of time in? Anyone with eyes could see that Sebastian was into you, and yet you never gave him any sign that you were aware of his feelings for you.

It was mind-boggling. It was frustrating. He was at the end of his rope.

And he still needed to shower.

“Give me ten minutes,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you. You nodded and stepped inside his room, watching as he stiffly grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before striding past you without a second glance.

If the universe held any affection for him at all, a cold shower would be enough to loosen the tight knot in the pit of his stomach.

—

Unsurprisingly, Sebastian’s excursion to the bathroom was unsatisfying. The shower head ought to count itself lucky that it was still mounted to the wall and not lying in a broken, dented heap on the floor. The icy spray of water had eased the problem between his thighs, but it had also snapped him out of his stupor, sharpened his senses, and left him with the grating realization that nothing would help him quench his thirst for you.

After donning a pair of pajama pants and an old Quidditch jersey that had definitely seen better days, Sebastian slowly– painfully– made his way back to you. He dimly towel dried his hair as he shuffled towards the door, giving himself as much time as possible to steel his nerves and barricade his lustful thoughts behind a mental, brick shield. A chill snaked its way up his spine as the cold air of the Slytherin dorms kissed his damp skin, but he barely paid it any mind.

He would rather be cold than embarrassingly hard.

When Sebastian pushed the door open, he found you laid out on his bed on your stomach, a textbook and a pile of notes situated before you. You’d shed your robes and were clad in your school uniform, the trousers you’d stubbornly kept since last year acting like a second skin. The passage of time was ultimately Sebastian’s greatest enemy, because with every month that went by, you changed. Physically changed. You were taller, curvier, and more womanly than ever. Instead of replacing your uniform with one that fit, you held on to ones from years past that had no business living in your drawers.

That perky ass of yours was going to be his undoing. Why did that outdated pair of trousers have to hug your hips so nicely?

He averted his gaze to the wall, curling his hands into tight fists that left violent red crescents on his palms. Get a grip, he thought to himself.

“You certainly made yourself comfortable,” he finally managed to bite out, his voice strained and pitched higher than normal. Idiot.

You glanced over at him with what he could only describe as a doe-eyed look. Those plush lips of yours were parted in mild surprise before they curled up into an easy smile, and your feet proceeded to kick up in the air playfully. “Your bed is much more comfortable than the one in my dorm.”

Deep breaths. Deep fucking breaths, Sebastian.

“Is that why you’ve practically moved in here? Not sleeping well in your own room?”

“Among other things,” you admitted around a sigh. “Don’t pretend like you don’t live for my company though. What else would you do if I wasn’t around to pester you?”

“Relax, most likely.” He allowed himself a shit-eating smirk, and he was rewarded by the sound of your indignant gasp. Closing the distance between you both, Sebastian sat down on the edge of the bed, confidently moving so that he was situated against the headboard for the second time today. You shifted around to give him more space, then brazenly draped your legs over his before shoving your notes into his lap.

His smirk vanished, and it took everything in him not to let out the choked groan that bubbled in his throat in response to the close proximity. “Whatever. You love me, and we both know it,” you huffed tauntingly, your downcast eyes keeping you from seeing the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed thickly. “Now read over this and tell me if I got most of the important material. Then I can start drafting the paper.”

History of Magic was the one class that never failed to make everyone sleepy, but presently? Working on an assignment like this with you in the wake of his shitty day? Sebastian had never been more awake, and it had everything to do with how pent-up he was. With excruciating restraint, he blocked out the feeling of your legs weighing down on his thighs and picked up the notes.

It was going to be a long, long evening.

—

It hadn’t been easy for Sebastian to maintain his composure for an hour straight, and there was even more truth to that fact now. You were still propped up against the bedpost with your notes scattered around you, your legs still tossed lazily over his, only you wouldn’t stop fidgeting.

Seriously. Sitting still was a foreign concept to you and had been for the last twenty minutes, because your feet wouldn’t quit fucking rubbing together. That wasn’t the direct cause of Sebastian’s frayed composure. It was the fact that your incessant twitching was pulling on the fabric of his pants, drawing the material taught over his groin over and over and over. It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to get so restless after studying for so long without a break, but considering that his impromptu masturbation session had been cut short earlier, he was loads more anxious than usual.

He didn’t mean to be so aggressive when he slapped his hands over your knees, stilling your absentminded writhing with a scowl. Later on he would apologize– and mean it– for being so harsh. But if he didn’t put a stop to your shifting, he was going to have bigger problems that superseded you being upset with him.

“Hey!” Your head snapped up from your notes, your grip on your quill turning white knuckled as you openly glared at him. “That hurts. Let go–”

“Stop moving so much, you’re driving me insane!” He fired back defensively, hating how gruff his voice sounded. “Is it too much for you to sit still?”

Your brows rose up your forehead in complete bewilderment, your expression warring between offended and shocked. “You could just ask next time instead of trying to dislocate my kneecaps. Merlin…” Sebastian didn’t know whether to be relieved or disgruntled when you attempted to withdraw your legs from his lap. Either way, he refused to let you move the limbs, and your loud sigh was laced with blatant vexation. “Let go, I’ll just move–”

“No. I don’t want you to move, I just want you to relax.”

Your wary gaze pierced right through him, and if he wasn’t already coiled tighter than a fucking spring, he would stiffen at the way your lower lip jutted out into a pout. You obeyed, though, your legs staying mercifully still as you went back to reading over the notes he had added to, and Sebastian took the opportunity to watch you through his lashes while he pretended to look down at the papers in his own lap.

Mussed strands of hair fell into your face, a byproduct of how frequently you’d run your fingers through them. Following summer break, you had returned to school with a light smattering of freckles dusting your nose. They couldn’t hold a candle to the ones that covered damn near every inch of him, but they were still pretty. Cute, even. The dark rings under your eyes would have looked sickly on anyone else, but in your case, they made the whites of your eyes all the more vibrant. You looked like a doll.

A scrumptious, effortlessly beautiful doll.

He watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, scratching out something you had written before hastily replacing the sentence with another. When the bit of skin was released, it was left red, swollen, and far more tempting than it had any right to be.

He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to bite at your lips, your neck, your breasts, and leave imprints of his teeth all over you. He wanted to mark every inch of your body and lay his claim in some primal, unseemly way that went against every lick of gentlemanliness he had been taught. He wanted to toss his inhibitions to the wind and indulge in the taste of you– something he had wondered about for a long, long time. Were you as sweet as he imagined? Would your thighs work to crush his head if he found himself situated between them, lapping up your essence like a man starved?

When your head popped up to glance at him again, Sebastian was unprepared for it. He was still staring– no, ogling you– with his eyes narrowed and his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fantasies had gotten the better of him and had left him a panting, lust-drunk mess. Another cold shower couldn’t even begin to lessen the painful throbbing of his cock. All of his hard work at keeping calm and in control had just flown out the fucking window, and he could only thank the stars in the sky that he had a pile of notes in his lap, concealing the evidence of his innermost thoughts.

“Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” You asked him, abandoning your quill against the mattress so you could sit forward and scan his very flushed, very tense face.

“I’m fine,” he looked away, trying and failing to wave you off.

Stubborn as ever, you didn’t back down. “You’re all red. Do you have a fever?”

“Seriously– I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, just finish your report already.”

The force of his heart hammering against his sternum left him worried that it was about to jump out of his ribcage. Your hand was suddenly closing in on him, concern etched across your features as you shifted your legs to move closer into his space. The tantalizing smell of your perfume oil invaded his senses, filling his nose and setting his blood alight in his veins. There was something to be said about how primal humans could be when it came to scents. Yours had always been incredibly intoxicating, and Sebastian was all too willing to breathe it in deeply as the back of your hand made contact with his forehead.

He was so fucked.

“You’re burning up. Maybe we should call it a night… you probably need to sleep it off.”

“I don’t need sleep,” he insisted with a frown, reaching up to pry your hand away from his face. “I already told you; I feel fine. Just drop it.”

That spark of rebellion you reserved for your most loathed enemies came to life behind your irises, burning brighter than the sun as you narrowed your eyes at him and tried to plant your hand against his forehead again. Sebastian held you back with little effort, your arm shaking with the force you exerted in your attempts. “You’ve been weird all day– if you’re sick, you need to be checked out. So either you tell me what’s wrong with you, or I’ll drag you to the Hospital Wing myself.”

That dark, animalistic part of him that conjured up the most obscene of daydreams silently laughed at your threat. Drag him? You couldn’t move him if you tried. He was infinitely stronger than you– broader, faster, tougher. You were the prey his inner predator yearned to claim. It was your fault that he was so out of it today, and yet you had the gall to order him around?

With the utmost difficulty, Sebastian checked himself in record time, reining in the bestial side of him as his grip on your wrist tightened. “For the last time, nothing is wrong. If you can’t accept that, then leave. There’s the door. You have your notes– go finish your report in your own room.”

You scoffed and strained in his hold, realizing that your attempts at moving your hand forward were fruitless. Then, faster than Sebastian could process, you threw your other arm out– deciding that if he was going to hold back your left hand, your right could pick up where the other had left off. He instinctively jerked you sideways to throw you off balance, which sent you careening forward against his chest. A guttural, almost pained groan ripped from his throat when your palm pressed directly against the throbbing bulge in his pants, your efforts to catch yourself effectively giving him away.

The jig was up. Your hand was right on his cock, the notes in his lap crinkling loudly as your fingers flexed in alarm. His eyes, which had squeezed shut in response to the abrupt contact, cracked open to find you blinking up at him blearily. “S-Sebastian?”

“Stop. Just don’t,” he grit through his teeth, his molars clenching together so roughly that he was certain his jaw would lock.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t– I shouldn’t have–” you tried to backpedal away from him to remove yourself from his personal space, but you only succeeded in applying more pressure to his groin. A choked whimper escaped his lips, the sound forming too quickly for him to stifle it and too loudly for you to have missed it.

Fuck.

Sebastian blindly yanked you forward so the brunt of your weight was pressed against his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from escalating the situation further, and the sigh of relief that slipped through his teeth when you moved your hand away from his cock was pathetic. He was pathetic.

He was glad that you couldn’t see his face when he desperately whispered, “Don’t– don’t fucking move. Please, just… give me a minute.”

That was all he needed. A moment of reprieve. He needed sixty, uninterrupted seconds to focus on his breathing– to imagine a Dugbog in a swimsuit, or Madame Scribbner in lingerie. He needed to cycle through the things that never failed to kill his libido, and he could only do that if you let him.

You didn’t. Fuck– you didn’t even give him five seconds to open his eyes. Before he knew what was happening, your hand was back on his cock, your fingers digging into the parchment that covered his lap as you fucking squeezed his pulsing length with intention.

The effect was instantaneous, and the sounds that fell from Sebastian’s lips were ones that would be seared into your brain until the end of time. His brain, too. He had never made such a wretched noise in all his eighteen years of living.

“Don’t make me throw you off this bed,” he growled slowly, but the high-pitched edge to his voice made it seem like despite his words, he was secretly pleading for it.

The image of himself climbing over you on the hardwood floor, pinning those damnable hands of yours above your head with one hand while the other was knuckle deep in your tight, fluttering cunt flooded his mind, and the brick wall of restraint he had constructed earlier crumbled into dust. He sucked down a shaky breath, his entire body vibrating with need as you gave him yet another testing squeeze, and that was what finally prompted him to seek out your eyes.

They were glimmering with unrestrained curiosity, something strangely like wonder dancing behind your pupils. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted breathlessly, the prettiest flush Sebastian had ever seen spreading across your cheeks as you glanced down to where you gripped him. “I just… is this why you’ve been so out of it today?”

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he rumbled, his mind urging him to shove you away while his body begged him to arch into your touch. “You better stop while you still have the chance.”

“But…” you trailed off, squeezing him for the third time and jumping when he hissed loudly through his teeth. “This seems pretty bad. Painful, even.”

If he wasn’t so wound up, he would have laughed. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Sebastian was convinced that he was the hardest he had ever been. The dual sensations of your hand on his cock and your shallow breaths fanning across his cheek had him dripping precum, the fluid swiftly soaking through the fabric of his pants and creating a stark wet patch that you noticed immediately. Almost testingly, you swiped your thumb over the spot, sending a bolt of arousal straight through him that left him gasping with need.

His willpower was shot. It was going to take a fucking miracle to come back from this. You had effectively taken every last bit of Sebastian’s resolve and crushed it all beneath your heel, leaving him trembling and keening as every part of your being invaded his senses and held him hostage.

“Fuck– please,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He couldn’t look at you right now– it would be the end of everything if he did. The end of this insanely euphoric moment, the end of his restraint, and maybe even the end of his friendship with you. This was… uncharted territory. He was scared to explore it, but gods, did he want to. “Please, I can’t– I can’t take it…”

He heard you swallow, your hesitation evident in the way you paused before lifting your hand away from his groin. The wrist he had held apart from you slipped free, his fingers closing over nothing but air, and a wave of disappointment crashed over him. Every inch of skin you pried away left him emptier and emptier, his heart and his dignity deflating with each passing second. His chest felt tight, and he was fully prepared to sit there in agonizing silence while you gathered your things to leave as fast as your legs could take you.

But then your hands were back– on either side of his face to tilt his head up to yours– and his sharp intake of breath was smothered by your soft, delectable lips pressing against his.

Bloody hell.

You weren’t leaving.

A switch flipped.

A carnal growl ripped from the back of his throat, and then he had you splayed out on your back with his knee wedged insistently between your thighs. He faintly heard the sound of your notes being scattered across the floor, but your startled gasp transforming into a hapless moan was more important. His lips crashed back into yours with zeal, the mask he had maintained this entire time dissipating like smoke in the wind, and his tongue bullied its way into your mouth, probing and tasting as though he didn’t have enough time to memorize every facet of information he unearthed.

You tried to match his pace the best you could, nipping at his lips and breathing heavily into his mouth, but your attempts only annoyed Sebastian. He asserted dominance by grabbing your chin between his index finger and thumb, then pried your lips apart with his tongue and conquered your mouth wholly and without subtlety.

“I need you,” he panted against your face, his fingers digging sharply into your hips. “I need you so bad, darling.”

You could only moan shakily when Sebastian dove back in to latch his lips over your pulse, peppering your neck with wet, sloppy kisses and decorating it with an assortment of love-bites. His teeth left a trail of imprints that his tongue worked to soothe, comforting you like he always had while hopelessly committing the taste of your salty skin to memory.

Sebastian felt you shudder as he worked his way up the column of your neck to the sensitive area below your ear. He nipped at the warm flesh waiting for him there, and when you whined and shamelessly bared more of yourself to him, he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his clothed cock against your hip. “Please, fuck– let me taste you. I’ll do anything you ask, just spread your legs and let me make you feel good.”

Your breathing hitched, and you tried to turn your head towards him, but he was too busy panting against your neck to meet your flustered stare. “S-Sebastian–”

“Please, darling. I’m fucking begging here. Let me in. Let me do this.”

Sebastian sounded drunk, his mind positively swimming with lust. The prospect of getting to see you like this, of getting to touch you, was driving him absolutely insane. His voice was airy and reedy– almost choked as though he couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

“I– I’ve never done this before,” you stammered softly, your cheeks flushing with humiliation at the revelation.

Sebastian’s head snapped up, a fire burning behind his eyes as he stared down at you with newfound hunger, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had to look deranged. “You– no one has ever touched you like this? Never?”

“I mean, I’ve been kissed before, but not…” you trailed off, suddenly bashful in the face of your inexperience. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Something buried deep inside of him broke free at that moment– a wild, untamable piece of himself that salivated at the fact that you were a virgin. No one had ever laid with you before. No one had ever glimpsed the intimate, private parts of yourself that were always hidden beneath that damn uniform. He would be the first– he would be your first. It should have been impossible, but the thought alone made him harder, his cock straining and leaking so much precum that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was dripping through the fabric of his pants.

Rational thinking returned to him then, and he was able to blink back the fog that shrouded his morals. “We can stop,” he croaked, not meaning a fucking word of it. “Fuck– tell me to stop and I’ll leave you alone. We can’t come back from this. Tell me to back off and I will.”

“I…” uncertainty washed over your pretty features, and much like before, Sebastian’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He was so selfish. He was such a self-serving bastard– he didn’t want you to call him off. He wasn’t the religious type in the slightest, but for the first time in his entire life, Sebastian started honest to God praying that you wanted this. That you wanted him.

He was going to have to make a point to pray more, because after a few tense beats of silence, he heard you shyly murmur, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Fuck. Thank Merlin.

There would be time later to be embarrassed about how his body sagged with relief. He was too busy kissing you again to bother with such a trivial emotion right now. Savoring your taste with a deep groan, Sebastian allowed himself a minute to grind against your hip, then moved back so he could begin the laborious process of stripping your too-tight trousers from your legs. It took longer than he would have liked, but once the attire reached the base of your ankles, he was able to rip them off and discard them haphazardly over his shoulder.

“Need to burn those,” he growled. “They drive me crazy.”

A brief huff of amusement came from you, and you squeezed your knees together in some feeble attempt to hide yourself from him. “They’re just pants.”

He didn’t have the mental capacity to get into why he had such a potent love-hate relationship with the clothing. Instead of explaining himself, he reached out to pry your legs apart, taking immense satisfaction in the way you squeaked and your entire face turned red. “Let me taste you. I’ve been wanting to for so fucking long– I swear I’ll make you feel good, love.”

Sebastian was sure that if he opened a dictionary to look up the word ‘disoriented’, there would be a photo of your face printed right next to it. You had never looked at him like that before; flushed, wide-eyed, and with traces of both confusion and arousal shadowing your tight features. Your expression had no right to rile him up the way it did, but he wasn’t interested in hiding his thirst for you. Not anymore.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, voice quivering. “That– I mean, if it’s gross or anything, don’t feel like you have to.”

Sebastian scoffed. You had no clue how extensive his fantasies were. As if he could ever be grossed out by you.

The level of innocence you displayed only spurred him on faster, and he eagerly sat forward to cover your mouth with his again, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your blouse so he could wrench it over your shoulders. Even though he was vibrating with barely contained need, he had to allow himself a moment to take in the sight of you completely bare, the staps of your brassiere hanging seductively over the sides of your arms and tightening the knot in the pit of his stomach. Your undergarments had to be as outdated as your trousers, because they were snug, short, and way too sheer to qualify as new.

He needed to burn those, too.

Sebastian watched you with predatory intent as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your unmentionables, letting his nails scratch against your thighs when he began to drag the clothing down your legs. Without your blouse in the way, he was able to see the full extent of your reddening skin, the color more vibrant than the Gryffindor banners that hung in the Great Hall. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, then stilled when the underwear was fully removed. Save for your brassiere, you were completely bare before him, and Sebastian audibly moaned when he looked down to find your folds glistening with moisture already.

“I’m going to drink up everything you have to give me until there’s nothing left,” he braced his hands on either side of your hips to lower himself onto his stomach, taking care to plant soft, revering kisses against your hip bones. “I know you taste so fucking good. I just know it…”

Your entire body tensed when you felt Sebastian exhale against your damp center, his eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. Then before you could collect your bearings, he was licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, collecting as much of your wetness as he possibly could, and the sensation made you jolt. “S-Sebastian–” you gasped, digging your fingers into the rumpled sheets of the bed in a bid to ground yourself.

“Yeah, say my name,” he urged roughly, his chest swelling with male pride. The sound of his name on your lips had the same effect as a bolt of lightning; it sliced through him to his very core, electric and unbelievably erotic, and he brazenly covered the entirety of your cunt with his mouth, licking and sucking at whatever parts of you he could reach.

The wetness that covered you was so extensive, it was hard to tell whether it was your own arousal or Sebastian’s saliva to blame. A cacophony of moans and whines tumbled from your throat without restraint, prompting him to dig his nails into your sides as he hauled you closer. He fucked his tongue into you with inhuman vigor, his jaw aching in protest, but he ignored the discomfort and continued to devour every drop of your essence like he would die if he didn’t.

It was so messy, too. Sebastian could feel the moisture dripping down his chin, but that only inspired him to work harder– his grip on your waist turning so severe that he knew he would find finger shaped bruises there later. Another mark left by him. Another brand proving that you were his.

“I knew it,” he panted hoarsely, his voice strained and deep as though he’d been screaming before now. “You taste so good, darling– so fucking sweet.”

“I– Sebastian, I–” you covered your face with your hands, the appendages shaking in earnest as your muscles began to tense. “Fuck, I think I–”

He sucked your clit between his lips then, laving his tongue over the swollen bud with so much pressure that your hips bucked against his face. The chuckle he let loose was guttural and dark, and he broke his unwavering concentration to glance up at you. “Are you close? You want to come for me, huh?”

Sebastian knew you had to be embarrassed, because you were still hiding behind your hands, the heels of your palms digging into your sockets. He could faintly see the row of teeth-shaped marks that lined your neck, but the majority of his hard work from earlier was concealed by your forearms. That wouldn’t do. He reached up and wrenched one of your arms away to reveal your watery stare, the glassy sheen covering your eyes telling him everything he needed to know about how close to the edge you were.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to see your face when you fall apart on my tongue.”

“It’s embarrassing,” your voice shook, as did the hand Sebastian held in his own. “I can’t– it feels hot. Like I’m on fire. I can’t even think–”

“Then don’t,” he interjected immediately, tenderly kissing the insides of your thighs in a way that made your stomach churn. “Don’t think. Just feel. Let me do all the work, and you just sit there and enjoy every second of it.”

It was a simple enough concept, but you still yelped when he dove back in, the singular hand he kept on your waist pulling you down so he was smothered by your wet, pulsing cunt. Sebastian didn’t waste any time picking up where he’d left off, his eyes burning as your potent scent drove him into a frenzy. He inhaled sharply as his tongue poked and prodded incessantly, its only goal to collect as much of your slick as possible, the ferocity of his movements making you tremble. Your nerves were totally scorched as the heat within your body reached new levels, the pleasure building in your gut nearing a peak that you were almost afraid to fall over.

“S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah!” Your words transformed into a keening moan when Sebastian sucked your puffy nub into his mouth again. The bedframe shook in time with your own vibrating, your eyes crossing as the symphony of ecstasy he gave to you climbed to its crescendo. Sebastian’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen he sucked down, but he didn’t care. If he suffocated to death while fused to your sopping wet cunt, he would die a happy man.

Breaking away from your clit for a brief moment, he hastily murmured, “Come on, love, let go. Use me and let go.”

He released your arm and tucked his hand somewhere under his chest, your confusion lasting for all of two seconds before you felt his fingers snaking their way inside of you. There was no resistance thanks to the slick gushing from your hole, the wetness saturating his hand and making him groan with desire. Sebastian’s tongue continued to flick and press against your bundle of nerves with reckless abandon, his fingers pumping and curling in and out of you as you deliriously cried out his name. Your walls tightened around his digits, sucking them deeper at the same time your brows furrowed in alarm, and Sebastian knew he had you right where he wanted you.

“Sebastian– wait, I can’t– I’m going to–”

His eyes strained as he fixed them on your face, his lips barely parting from your clit as he encouraged you. “Come on, darling, come on my face. Be a good girl and let go– just let go.”

The praise drove you clean over the edge, the coil in the pit of your stomach finally snapping as his voice and his fingers and his tongue reduced you to a quaking, moaning mess. Sebastian’s desperation for you consumed you, pure rapture washing over your limbs before they fell boneless against the mattress. Stars danced in the corners of your vision, and you heard and felt Sebastian groan against you before his unrelenting grip on your waist went slack.

You hardly registered him slipping his fingers free from your cunt and climbing over you until his face was right in front of yours. Sebastian took a flurry of mental snapshots of you, tucking each one into the far reaches of his mind and vowing to himself that he would never forget the fucked-out expression you bore. He made a point to suck the remnants of your pleasure from his digits while maintaining eye contact, and you whimpered breathlessly at the sight.

“You were so good for me,” Sebastian cooed as he gathered you up in his arms. He moved so his back was nestled against the pillows before repositioning you so your head was tucked against his shoulder. Soothingly, he carded his fingers through your hair as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you managed between deep, shuddering breaths. “What about you?”

“More than okay. Don’t you worry about me.”

“But…” your eyes flicked down at the same time he tried to cover the blossoming wet patch on his pajama pants. “I thought you didn’t–”

Almost sheepishly, he admitted, “I did. Trust me, that did more for me than you could possibly imagine. I’m sorry for being so aggressive. And for being such a prick today. I just… it’s been hard to rein it in around you recently.”

He felt your chin dig into the side of his pec as you glanced up at him, the virtuous, doe-eyed look you fixed him with threatening to undo him all over again. “Rein what in?”

“You can’t honestly tell me you don’t realize the effect you have on me, right?” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut as he dredged up the very thoughts that had been hounding him for years. “I’m hopeless where you’re concerned. I get stupid. I act like a daft, brainless idiot, and you just strut about without a clue. I thought I’d finally gotten the hang of keeping that under control, but…”

“Apparently not,” you helpfully supplied, and Sebastian grunted confirmingly. Those blasted trousers of yours had nullified the remnants of his restraint. So had your eyes. And your hands and your voice. All of you was to blame, really. Like he’d said from the very beginning; he was hopeless where you were concerned.

“Anyway, thank you for… well, that.”

“Please don’t thank me,” your face pinched, your body going rigid. “Then it will feel transactional, and I don’t want that.”

Fair point. “What do you want, then?”

That rosy flush reappeared against your cheeks, and Sebastian had to beat back the smile that threatened to split his face in the wake of your obvious shyness. “I– well… is there anything I can do for you?”

Yes. No. Maybe? Sebastian’s laugh was humorless, mostly because there wasn’t anything funny about how his cock twitched in interest at the offer. “I don’t think we need to venture down that path right now. Especially since you’ve already given up so much tonight. I honestly feel kind of bad that your first experience was me jumping your bones…”

“But what if that’s what I want?” His heart leapt up into his throat so fast that he nearly choked. The kind of uncertainty that went hand in hand with inexperience was written all over your face, but the stubborn set to your jaw told Sebastian that you were serious. Was he dreaming? Maybe he had passed out in the bathroom and this was all a very lovely, very cruel figment of his imagination. You pressed on, “Maybe I want to walk down that path with you. There’s no one else I trust as much as you, so… what would be the harm?”

This time, Sebastian’s chuckle was genuine. He blinked rapidly, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes that it would settle his nerves and calm his racing blood. It didn’t work. “In that case, there’s plenty you could do for me, darling. I still think we should save it for next time, though.”

You appeared to chew the inside of your cheek, your brows furrowing as you contemplated something that interested Sebastian to no end. Then, before he could process what you were doing, the hand that had been splayed against his chest inched down tauntingly, your nails dragging lightly across his skin. His breathing hitched, and then it stopped entirely when you gripped him through his pants. Much like he’d expected, the conversation had roused his cock back to life, and he was achingly hard in your hand.

“I want ‘next time’ to be right now,” you declared stubbornly, pulling a hiss from him when your fingers rubbed over the sensitive head of his length. “I’m a little curious about this. You recovered pretty fast, but if you’re too tired…”

The wicked gleam in your eyes conveyed quite clearly that you knew exactly what you were doing. Where had the bashful innocence gone? Sebastian had blinked and suddenly it was like he was staring at a different woman, the challenge in your voice leaving him with one daunting realization.

Either he had created a monster, or there had always been one lurking beneath the surface.

His cock twitched again, and Sebastian knew that he was so, so fucked.