#quidditch!sebastian

[hogwartslegacypics]

the closest we’re gonna get to seeing beater!seb

[alliezarin]

context: 6th year. they had a fight right before the match but he still proteccs ✨

[wedonthaveawhile]

When she says my name.

Garreth Weasley x F!MC (18+)

Garreth finds himself entangled with the heroine of Hogwarts. As their encounters become habit, they devolve into a game of power dynamics and possession.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, possesive!Garreth, dominant!Garrreth, public sex, dirty talk, aged-up characters, unrequited love, pining.

AO3 // Word count: 3k

Garreth picked at the splintered wood on his broom from a recent tussle with a bludger, scanning the courtyard intermittently for any trace of his Quidditch team. Their head of house had recently delivered a stern criticism about their hero complex. Apparently, each member was too focused on personal glory, neglecting the importance of working as a cohesive team.

He eventually detected a figure on a broom, although quickly realised they displayed a level of nimble grace far beyond what he'd expect from one of his lumbering teammates. Hogwarts' resident hero was evidently making a return from one of her mysterious outings.

His eyes swept the courtyard again, a scattering of students strolled across the well-kempt grass, a handful basked in the sun near the fountain, but none he recognised. Thinking about it, Garreth wondered whether he should hang around for this team-building training. It was probably wise, considering he was not only the captain but also the one who had organised the whole thing. However, they were running late, and he had spotted far more appealing company.

Before he could put much more thought into it, he swung his leg over his broomstick and began to silently trail the unsuspecting witch.

He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started noticing her disappearances. He assumed he just hadn't been paying much attention to her whereabouts prior to her inquiry regarding his more 'unobtainable' potions. His tactics hadn't evolved significantly since fifth-year when he’d charmed the newcomer into pilfering Sharp's office for supplies, but he had become far more adept at sneaking around for rare ingredients.

He agreed to assist in whatever scheme she was cooking up, on the condition she helped him obtain the key component. Partly for the benefits of having someone on the lookout for wandering faculty, but mostly because the beloved heroine of Hogwarts could do no wrong. If their covert operation were to be exposed, her involvement would mean the detention time his aunt dished out would be significantly reduced.

They needed snakeweed, which he was fairly certain was cultivated and harvested in the greenhouse. However, Professor Garlick was extremely protective of her plants, requiring their thieving to be done after curfew.

Moonlight wiggled through the twisted tendrils of the countless plants scattered throughout the greenhouse as they dispelled their disillusionment charm and got to work.

"What do you reckon all of this is?" The witch gestured towards a dense blanket covering the harvesting bench, a few neatly folded sheets at one end made it appear like some kind of makeshift bed.

"Perhaps the rumours about Garlick and Kogawa are true. Maybe we've stumbled upon their secret little sex den.” Garreth turned around and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, narrowly avoiding stumbling into a venomous tentacula lurking in the shadows.

She pulled back the cover, unveiling a project in progress—mallowsweet leaves neatly laid out, drying between the two blankets.

"You need to get your mind out of the gutter,” she scoffed, laying the covering back over the golden foliage. “Or you need to get laid.”

"It was a logical assumption," he argued, crouching beneath a table, casting a dim lumos across a collection of small plant pots. "The height of these tables are just right for it."

"Should I ask how you know that?"

She lifted herself onto the table as if testing the height for herself. Garreth smirked as he shifted the pots around with flicks of his wand.

"I’m a warm-blooded male, I'd say I'm an expert in these things."

Spotting a small propagation of snakeweed, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping a watchful eye on the door. She wasn't. She was perched primly on the edge of the table, legs pressed together from knees to toes.

His eyes roamed across her body, and he realised he had never really had the opportunity to thoroughly check her out. She was like forbidden fruit, always flanked by her two Slytherin gatekeepers. It's not that he hadn't noticed she was attractive, she certainly was. Her feminine figure hinted at subtle signs of muscle earned from days spent sprinting around the castle.

His lusty gaze travelled up to her face, only to discover she had been watching him the entire time. Suppressing the flicker of embarrassment, he instead leaned into his Gryffindor bravery. He grabbed the small pot and approached her, his hips meeting her knees with an intentional bump.

"As promised," he presented her with the delicate plant, his fingers brushing against hers as he handed it over.

"That was easy," she raised the pot to catch the moonlight. Her eyes shifted from the plant to him, and her pupils bloomed. "You've earned yourself a returning customer."

"Splendid," he grinned, wondering whether this meant more after-hour hangouts, a thought that kindled his overactive imagination. "The first one's on the house, the rest might come with a price tag."

“I suppose I’ll have to start saving then. What's your price?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make demands beyond your means,” he backtracked, worried she might think he was being serious. “Wouldn’t want to scare off my favourite customer.”

"Snagged the title of the favourite customer without parting with a single penny?” She chuckled lightly, scraping her teeth across her lower lip, “Business must be crawling."

"I prioritise quality over quantity," his eyebrow quirked as he studied her face, purposefully lingering a beat too long on her lips before flitting back to her eyes. "Now, what assets do you bring to the trading table?"

"Let me think," she reclined on her palms. "What do I bring to this specific table..." she emphasised each word with a tap of her nails against the wood, "that a warm-blooded male might find tempting?"

Heat surged through his body, and he began to regret pressing himself up against her legs, there was no way she couldn’t feel his enthusiasm swell against her knees.

“Did I mention it’s one for the price of two?”

She laughed, the sugar-sweet sound tickling his brain and the movement of her body causing her legs to part slightly.

“See, what did I tell you?" he pushed his palms against the table on either side of her thighs as he slotted himself between them. "Perfect height."

"I took your word for it. After all, you're the expert." She gave his tie a tug before running the fabric through her fingers. “Well, so you say...”

"Correct," he answered simply, because the only other words rattling around in his head was an offer to sit on his face, and he was trying really hard to play it cool.

She cocked her head to the side, “Are you going to verify that claim?”

You would have thought they were time-fated lovers, not classroom acquaintances. She had been right. He needed to get laid, and she needed some stress relief. It didn't take long before her skirt was hiked up around her waist and he was showcasing just how perfect the height of the table was. He assured her the greenhouse was soundproof due to the mandrakes, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was true. Frankly, he didn't care. Her unrestrained moaning, nails scraping across the wooden table, heels digging into his back to pull him in deeper—it made a lifetime of detention feel like a minor nuisance.

The saying goes, once is a mistake and twice is a habit, but Garreth wondered when it tipped into addiction. Whenever she was stressed—and fortunately for him, that was often—he found himself happily yanked by his tie into the nearest broom cupboard, beneath the Quidditch stands before one of his matches, by the edge of the lake under a disillusionment charm...

Maybe this time, on the balcony of the highest tower?

That's where she gracefully dismounted her broom. He followed suit, touching down behind her without a sound. Her jumper was splattered with mud down one arm, but for the most part, she was reasonably unscathed which was a rarity. She tugged it over her head to clean it with a quick charm, and he realised the stain bore a suspicious resemblance to a troll's handprint.

He knew she could handle herself, she’d been doing so for almost two years without his observations. Nevertheless, he realised he’d begun to worry about her when she was away.

He cleared his throat.

She whirled around with startled eyes and he muffled her gasp with a kiss. She squirmed for a few seconds, but her resistance crumbled as his thumbs glided up her neck, tracing delicate patterns under her ears.

He wasn't certain if she was doing the pulling or if he was doing the pushing, but somehow her back ended up crashing against the wall. Her fingers wove through his hair as his lips tore from hers and latched onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she landed a weak thump on his bicep.

"You look like you lost a fight with a swamp," he mumbled against her skin, his hands wandering down to her hips.

"I'll have you know, I beat that swamp fair and square."

A ghost of a laugh dispersed across her neck, "I like the thought of watching you mud-wrestle. Let me come with you next time."

“Or you could come in me now?”

It was an obvious deflection tactic, but he gladly took the bait. His kisses grew forceful as he began to nip at her exposed skin.

“You better not be leaving marks, Weasley.”

He grumbled in protest against the light pink blotch he had begun to work into her throat. Something in the primal recesses of his mind itched to brand her. He wanted his lips stained on her skin, regardless of wherever or whoever she was with when she was gone.

"What if they're out of sight?" His fingers danced against her neck as he worked on undoing her tie, it fluttered to the ground before he finished asking for permission.

She withdrew her wand and uttered the incantation for a protective charm to shield their misdeeds from any potential spectators. He took that as consent, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Where have you been?" he probed before his teeth dug into the plump flesh above her breasts. It had been nearly nine days since their last encounter, easily their longest dry spell in the two months since their greenhouse tryst.

"None of your business," She hooked her fingers into his trousers to pull him closer, trying to find some friction.

"I want it to be.”

"Tough shit, Weasley,” her voice faltered as he hiked her skirt up around her waist.

“Garreth,” he reprimanded.

She only called him by his first name when they were fucking. He was certain she’d been deliberately conditioning him with it. If he teased her too vigorously in class all she had to do was say, "Shut it, Garreth," and he'd have to discreetly conceal his excitement for the next ten minutes. She made him dumb, plain and simple.

"You'll have to earn that," she purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.

He scooped her up, spinning her around until she perched on the balcony's banister. A yelp escaped her as she teetered on the concrete edge, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“I want to feel this tomorrow,” she popped open his buttons to speed up the process, “Please?"

“I've got you," he assured, feeling her pulse thunder against his chest as he positioned himself between her thighs. One hand supported her back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.

It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before she came along. The way she demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning. "Say please again," he whispered, nipping her lower lip as he moved her soaked underwear to the side and positioned himself at her entrance. "I like it when you ask nicely."

"Pretty please?" she simpered before kissing him, her tongue eagerly seeking his.

He swallowed her moan as he pushed himself into her, she felt better than he remembered. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave her everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she whined against his mouth, her head tilting back as her eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, her own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.

He pulled her close by the small of her back with one arm, maintaining his grip on her neck with the other, aligning her to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, she bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as he bottomed out.

So, it was fine when she left a mark. He'd certainly remember that.

“You feel so fucking good, Garreth-”

A fractured cry fell from her lips as he pounded into her because his name had floated off her tongue like a prayer, causing something inside him to shatter, like it always did. Defining the constantly shifting dynamic between them was impossible, but it was addicting - He always found himself craving a little more than what he was getting.

“Who do you belong to?”

Garreth threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging her head up to look him in the eyes. She regarded him with a dizzy stare but remained silent. He began to slow down, and she instinctively bucked her hips to maintain some friction as her building orgasm began to ebb away.

“I said, who do you belong to?”

She wasn't his, they were both aware of that. This was never more than a matter of convenient timing and a means of stress relief. Nonetheless, he took pleasure in the hold he had over the most formidable witch of their generation. The witch with unwavering principles and determination. The witch who never faltered in her beliefs. The witch who was currently lying through her teeth for the pleasure of coming undone on his cock.

“You,” she whimpered, “Please, Garreth. Don’t stop, please.”

He didn't know if it was the way she was begging or the frantic desperation of her hips grinding against his, but he was teetering on the edge of his breaking point. He bit down hard on his lip, struggling to hold himself together long enough for her to reach the finish line.

"Chin up," he demanded, his breath coming in ragged pants as he reached one hand between them, rubbing a lopsided circle around her clit. “You look at me when you come."

He groaned through clenched teeth as his words caused her to instantly tighten around him, and that beautiful, hazy look fell over her face. She pulled him in by his collar, kissing him so hard it carved itself onto his brain and he released nine days of pent-up desire. He rolled his hips against hers as they both rode it out, briefly forgetting he should be gentle considering she was perched on the edge of a several hundred-foot drop.

He had believed there was nothing better than watching her unravel in his arms before seeking his own release, but he was wrong. Feeling her orgasm spasming over his shaft as he filled her up damn near killed him.

He fastened his trousers and helped her down from the stone balustrade. She smoothed down her skirt, trying to hide the fact that she was wobbling. He hoped his performance had met her expectations and he’d still be making her legs tremble tomorrow.

He peppered kisses across the blemishes he'd left on her breasts as he fastened the buttons of her shirt, trailing up to nip at the delicate spot on her neck just beneath her ear, the spot only he knew about, the spot that made her head tilt back and her vision fill with stars. He whispered an "Accio" against her skin, summoning a tie from the ground. He secured it around her throat with a playful tug before pulling her jumper over her head.

“You have to go?” he murmured between kisses, finding it bothered him less when he asked rather than when she told him.

Her chest heaved as she sighed, planting a lingering kiss on his lips before bending down to gather her things. “I have a study group. You’re welcome to join?”

He gave her a foggy smile and shook his head lightly. “I have some Quidditch thing I’m late for.”

“Alright, well…” She cast a fleeting glance at her abandoned broom on the floor. They hadn’t quite mastered the art of goodbyes yet. “Later, Weasley.”

“See you later,” he offered her a half-hearted wave, hoping she wouldn't make him wait another nine days before flying into his line of sight again.

As he watched her leave, he found himself wondering what impulse had led him to fasten his Gryffindor tie around her neck. There was the undeniable hope her irritation at his bold act would result in some passionate hate sex, but it ran deeper than that. It felt territorial. He’d been growing increasingly irritated with Sallow's lecherous stare and Gaunt's persistent attempts to cater to her every whim. They seemed to believe they held a Slytherin monopoly on her affections, all due to some unspoken event that happened over two years ago. Garreth understood her on a deeper level. She wanted someone who wouldn't procrastinate for two years, someone capable of making her scream on a greenhouse bench at two in the morning. He had a claim too, a far more substantial one.

[kerimcberry]

Aaaand here's Part 3! ✨

I hope you all enjoyed Lyla's Quidditch shenanigans as much as I enjoyed drawing it out! Thank you for following along! :D

[hinatastinygiant]

Brewing Affections

ONESHOT: Brewing Affections ~ Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Masterlist

"Hurry up, Garreth, we're going to be late!" you groan as you look behind you while your brother struggles to take out his wand from his robe.

"Relax sis, we still have a whole five minutes," he retorts.

You sigh. "It's not a short walk to the potions room, you know," you reply, rolling your eyes as you turn back around. "You always make us late."

"Do not!" he retorts.

"Oh really? Last week, we were almost 10 minutes late to charms, and the week before, we were 15 minutes late, and the week before—"

"Okay okay, I get it!" he grumbles. "We'll make it, though. Besides, who's going to care?"

You sigh. He doesn't understand the importance of being punctual. You, on the other hand, are a stickler for being on time. It's the one thing you don't need to be smart to do at this school.

Finally, after a seven-minute walk, you arrive only slightly late to Professor Sharp's potions class. The two of you stand by your cauldrons with the other 7th year Gryffindors who tell you that Sharp is still writing something down on his desk, and hasn't begun. Unfortunately for you, this causes Garreth to stick out his tongue at you and say, "I told you so!"

You scoff, "Whatever."

The two of you get ready for the lesson, pulling out your vials, measuring spoons, and ingredients. But when Professor Sharp is finally ready to start class, he clears his throat and begins to explain that today's class will be slightly different. "Today," he says with a bit of a proud grin on his face, "I will be pairing you up with different partners. Good practice for some of you who can't seem to get along with the other houses in here."

"I swear to god if he pairs me up with that wannabe pretty boy Sallow," Garreth begins to complain to Leander on the opposite side of where you sit, "I'll fucking quit this class."

You roll your eyes. Garreth has always had a rivalry with Sebastian. It's not really a rivalry, but more so that the two are complete opposites of each other. You don't usually pay it much mind. They're both on rival quidditch teams, and have different opinions on nearly everything so it's pretty normal. However, the fact that they're both so competitive makes their arguments much worse.

"Now, please listen carefully, for I will not be repeating myself," Professor Sharp continues, "When I call your names, you will go sit across from your partner. Understood?"

There are a couple of quiet mumbles of "Yes Sir," before Professor Sharp continues.

"Mr. Cromwell, with Ms. Jones."

"Lucky Cromwell," Garreth nods to Leander.

"Ms. Huxley, with Mr. Prewett," Sharp continues. "Hm, then I'll have Ms. Weasley with Mr. Sallow."

Garreth's head immediately turns to yours and he mouths, "Better you than me."

You, however, just shake your head and shrug your shoulders. It's not a big deal to you, even though the two of you can't get along, you'll at least be able to get the job done.

You watch as Sebastian slowly makes his way across the classroom to your station. You're not sure why he's moving so slowly, but you think it might be his ego weighing him down.

"Better keep your hands to yourself, Sallow," Garreth whispers to him with narrowing eyes. "Touch my sister and you're dead."

"I think you better tell her that," Sebastian smirks as he leans against the table, "She's the one who couldn't keep her hands off of me yesterday."

Your eyes widen. What the fuck is he talking about?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Garreth's voice is rising. "You lying—"

"Hey hey," Leander holds his arm out in front of him, "Don't get yourself in trouble with Sharp."

Sebastian is smiling to himself as the four of you watch Professor Sharp call the rest of the class to their new stations. Once Garreth is gone, you're left to deal with Sebastian on your own. It's then that Professor Sharp gives directions, explaining that he will be giving each table their own, unknown potion and are expected to brew it before leaving the room. "Teamwork," he tells the class. "Will be imperative to completing this potion I promise you've never attempted to brew before. And, I have a feeling it will take some time," Professor Sharp shakes his head.

You try not to ignore how close Sebastian is getting to you as Sharp passes out instructions on a small piece of paper. Once you receive yours, you read it aloud to Sebastian.

"You know those directions are never accurate," he sighs once you finish, picking up way too much Serpentine Shadowroot than needed.

"Are you serious? I don't think Sharp would give us a mystery potion with incorrect directions," you shake your head as you snatch the shadow root from his hand.

"Yes, I am serious. You must not be familiar with Sharp's techniques then. Remind me, are you new here? Do you need me to teach you, Y/N," Sebastian grins, leaning in close.

You roll your eyes. "Don't pretend like you know him better than anyone else. You're always trying to prove yourself to everyone."

"And what's wrong with that?" Sebastian asks.

"You're so annoying," you shake your head as you measure out just the right amount of shadow root.

"You really want us to fail, don't you? Are you trying to spend extra time with me, Weasley?" he then asks you, his smirk only widening on his face.

"Merlin's Beard, you just can't help yourself, can you? I'm pretty sure I've made it fairly obvious I'm not interested in you flirting with me right now, Sallow," you grumble.

"Oh? Not right now?" he repeats. "So does that mean I've got a shot later?"

"Shut up, Sallow. Just read the damn directions again," you shake your head.

"Why? So you can be a goody two shoes and do all the work? That's what all your friends see, don't they?" he begins to provoke you.

"No," you shake your head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't?" Sebastian laughs. "I think I know you and your friends a lot better than you think."

"You don't know me," you roll your eyes.

"You're right. But I'm willing to learn," Sebastian smirks.

You don't even bother replying, you just roll your eyes and reach past him to get the next ingredient. "No, that's not next!" he suddenly shouts, causing you to pull back your arm so quickly that you bump your elbow against your cauldron and spill the contents onto the floor. You glare at Sebastian as the rest of the class stares in your direction.

"You ass, what the hell was that?!" you exclaim, reaching over and grabbing his shirt collar.

"I didn't mean—" he starts to defend himself.

Just then, Professor Sharp approaches and clears his throat. You let go of Sebastian and place your hands on your sides. "Apologies, Professor, but-"

"Save it, Weasley," he shakes his head. "I suppose the whole family really is the same. I thought you were different. To the Headmaster's office. Both of you!"

***

"Back again, Sallow?" Headmaster Black shakes his head when he sees the two of you begrudgingly enter his office. "You really need to stop getting yourself sent here."

"What? But I don't always come," Sebastian insists. "Scribner lets me go almost every time!"

"Oh does she now?" Black nods his head as though he had no previous knowledge of this. "Well, she must have been feeling particularly nice then."

You can't help but chuckle quietly to yourself as Sebastian gets reprimanded. You've only ever talked to Headmaster Black a few times over the past few years, and it was only really because of what happened to your parents in Hogsmeade two years back.

"I understand the situation with your sister, Anne, and wanting to help find a cure for her seemingly unmanageable illness, but this is not the way of doing things," Black continues.

"Yes, Sir," Sebastian sighs.

Your smile fades as Sebastian hangs his head down low. You didn't realize just how poorly his sister was doing, and judging by his reaction, you can only assume the worst.

"Now," Headmaster Black begins to address the both of you, "What was the incident today in potions?"

"She—" Sebastian immediately begins, before you cut him off.

"I bumped my elbow against the cauldron and knocked it over, causing Sebastian to get in trouble for my mistake," you explain.

"No, no, no," Sebastian insists. "That's not what-"

"But that is the truth," you insist, looking at the Headmaster, "I'll gladly accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate."

"Very well," he sighs. "20 points from Gryffindor. Now, leave. I have no need for further discussion with the two of you."

"Yes, Sir," the both of you respond in unison.

As you walk out, Sebastian leads the way, not bothering to turn back or wait for you as he heads toward the Slytherin dorms. "Sebastian!" you call out hopelessly, but it isn't until you run in front of him and hold out your hand against his chest that he stops.

"What?" he snaps.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't know that's why you were acting the way you were," you sigh. "I didn't realize that-"

"Piss off," he replies coldly, shoving his shoulder against yours as he continues walking.

"Please," you insist, following after him, "Listen to me, will you? I'm trying to apologize, you jerk!"

"Why?" he asks, stopping in his tracks. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because," you reply, "I didn't realize. I didn't know that was the case. But I know what it's like to lose someone I love."

"Anne isn't dead, idiot," he grumbles before walking away. You decide not to chase after him again.

***

"Hey, Y/N," Garreth taps your shoulder. You and the rest of your Gryffindor friends are sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, but all you can think about is the events earlier in the day. "You're going to the game tomorrow, right?"

"Huh?" you look at your brother and nod. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

"Who are you rooting for?" Leander asks.

You look at Garreth who passes you a smirk, though he doesn't let anyone else see it. He then makes a kissy face, mocking the way you know Leander feels about you.

"Gryffindor," you laugh, hitting your brother in the chest. "I'm a Gryffindor, why would I cheer for Slytherin?"

"Oh, yeah, well, I know that. I just thought maybe there was a certain Gryffindor you were interested in, is all," Leander blushes, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the table.

"I don't think there is," you answer coldly before going back to your trance. You can somewhat hear the laughter that erupts from the rest of the table at Leander's expense, but you don't pay it much care.

"Oh, that reminds me," Garreth then calls to you, "what happened in the headmaster's office with Sallow? He didn't throw you under the bus, did he?"

"No," you shake your head as you glance past him at the Slytherin table on the opposite side. "But I did cost us 20 points."

"Fucking serious?" Garreth grumbles as he turns his head to face the rest of the Slytherin table.

"What is it, Garreth?" you ask, still looking over as well.

"They're all just fucking pricks," he growls.

Sebastian isn't hard to spot at the table. He's rather tall and has a commanding presence, and that's not even counting his enviously soft hair and strong jawline. He sits, unbothered, as he talks to his friend Ominis Gaunt. When Garreth turns back around, you keep your gaze fixated on the handsome Slytherin. You didn't realize it at first, but the way he treats everyone is almost like a defense mechanism. It's like he tries to gain everyone's love because he's afraid he won't get enough somewhere else.

When the two of you catch eyes, he doesn't smile, but instead, his eyes widen. It's like he's surprised, or maybe he's nervous. Maybe he's embarrassed about what happened in the hallways, or the potions classroom. Either way, you avert your eyes before anything can happen.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Garreth then asks you softly. "Nothing happened to you, right?"

"No," you reply, your voice in a whisper. "I'm fine. I think I just need some air."

You quickly excuse yourself from the table and head outside. It's a bit colder than usual tonight, but the weather is still quite pleasant. The moon is bright, and there are some clouds scattered across the sky. You decide to walk around the school grounds for some time until you finally arrive back at the courtyard.

It's empty, you note. It must be past curfew already. You're not quite sure how time passed so quickly, but it did. However, before you can head inside, you spot someone sitting on the edge of the fountain. It's Sebastian.

Seeing him makes you hesitate. You don't know what to say, really. You wish you could apologize for being weird earlier in the day, but the last time you tried, it didn't go over so well. Instead, you approach him quietly.

As you get closer, you notice that his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are red. He looks sad, almost. Is he crying?

"Are you alright?" you ask him.

"What?" he responds, quickly wiping his eyes as he looks up at you. "Y/N, what're you doing here?"

"Uh, I'm not really sure," you respond softly. "Mind if I sit?"

Sebastian nods and scoots over slightly, allowing you to join him.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, your eyes glancing towards his.

"Yeah," he nods. "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure," you answer as you reach into your cloak and pull out a small handkerchief. You then gently hold it out to him and allow him to take it from you.

"Thank you," he says, reaching out his hand.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, not really saying much of anything. "Is there anything I can do?" you finally ask him.

"Not unless you know of a cure for Anne," he scoffs.

"Sorry," you shake your head. "But I do know what it's like to see someone you love be in pain. Two years ago my parents were in Hogsmeade when a large troll appeared and caused some trouble. They were caught in the crossfire. There was nothing I could do."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian frowns.

"It's alright," you shake your head. "The point of telling you that wasn't to have you pity me or anything. It was just to show that I know what it's like. You've got someone to worry about, but you should take comfort knowing that she's still here."

"Do you miss them?" Sebastian asks, looking at you.

"Every day," you nod.

"I know I would, too," he sighs. "If Anne were to-"

"We don't have to talk about that," you shake your head.

"Sorry," he sighs.

"No, it's okay. But it's getting late, we should head back inside," you sigh.

"Y/N," Sebastian suddenly reaches out and grabs your wrist. "Thank you. For sitting with me. And listening."

"No problem."

***

The next afternoon you walk down to the common room where the rest of your Gryffindor friends are dressed in their house's colors. Everyone is chanting about how the quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin is the most important game of the season and that they need to beat Slytherin. Once everyone is ready, you head out and make your way to the quidditch pitch.

When the game is about to start, the crowd is abuzz. They're excited for the game to begin. It's the only time the entire school can be unified and on the same team. But before the game begins, Leander Prewett, dressed in his Quidditch uniform, approaches you with a pale face.

"Leader?" you begin, but before you can ask him why he's not getting ready for the game, he bends over to his left and vomits up whatever he had for lunch.

"Shit," you grimace. "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

"No, I'll be fine," he shakes his head.

"You don't look fine," Cressida, one of the other 7th year girls, remarks.

"Cress, not now," Leander grumbles. "Y/N, please take my broom to Garreth. He said he's been wanting to use it so figured I'd give it to him since I can't play."

"Yeah, sure, but, uh, you really didn't need to walk all the way out here to give my stupid brother your broom. He's got his own," you sigh.

"Well, maybe I also partially wanted to see you," he smiles.

You chuckle softly. "I'll get this to Garreth. You go back to your room and rest."

As Leander nods, you walk to the side of the pitch toward the Gryffindor locker room. However, finding yourself preoccupied with thoughts of the night before, you enter the locker room and come face-to-chest with a tall, muscular Slytherin. Shit, you mutter to yourself, you've walked into the wrong room.

As you take a step back from the situation that you'd quite honestly love to be a part of in any other situation, you realize that the bare chest belongs to none other than Sebastian Sallow who's only dressed from the waist down. Finding yourself embarrassed, you look up and away from him before apologizing.

"Ah, hey there, Y/N," he calls out to you, grin ever present on his face. "Don't worry, it's not the first time a girl's seen me shirtless. You can look."

You roll your eyes. "Not interested."

"Are you sure about that?" he questions, his tone playful. "Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for what you said to me last night. You definitely did cheer me up and now I'm ready to kick some Gryffindor ass."

After he speaks, the rest of the men in the locker room erupt in an uproarous cheer. A few of them whistle as they crowd Sebastian, but you can still manage to spot the wink he sends your way before getting enveloped by his excited teammates. You roll your eyes as you walk out. Maybe you shouldn't have taken the fall for him in Black's office yesterday.

***

After returning from your delivery to Garreth, you walk up to the stands where the rest of your friends have saved you a seat.

"What's up, Cress?" you ask, taking your seat beside your friend who is folding her arms over her chest.

"Imelda," she grumbles, "is such a narcissistic bitch."

"What'd she do this time?" you sigh.

"She's the reason why Leander can't play!" Cressida exclaims.

"No way, are you serious?" you question.

"Yes! She gave him some weird potion so he'd get sick and not be able to play. We saw her on the way up to the stands laughing as she drank some kind of pink concoction. When I called her out, she just laughed and walked away," Cressida shakes her head. "It's fucking despicable."

"Oh wow," you reply. But before you can say anything more, the whole crowd shouts in an uproarous cheer. The game is beginning.

As the players fly around, hyping up the crowd before they play, Sebastian's broom stops just in front of where your group of friends happen to be standing. "I swear," you grumble, "this guy is fucking everywhere lately."

Cressida chuckles and nudges you in the shoulder before her breath suddenly hitches. Sebastian, his broom still stopped in front of the section where you are, blows a pink-lipped kiss towards you.

"Oh, Merlin's Beard," she gasps, grabbing your arm and holding it tightly. "He's flirting with you."

"Piss off," you mumble, trying to hide your embarrassment, "He's just an ass."

"He's so fucking cool," Leander shakes his head. You look at him in confusion as he gazes at Sebastian like a lovesick puppy.

"Why are you still here?" you ask with a nudge to his side. "Go home, Prewett!"

Finally, the lanky Gryffindor takes your advice and returns to his dorm room to rest. You're thankful. At least you can finally enjoy the game without worrying about him.

The crowd begins to cheer again when the game starts. Both teams fly around and try their best to score as many points as they can. But about halfway into the game, lightning strikes and the balls begin to act up.

"Think they're going to stop it?" Eric Northcott asks the group.

"No way, they can't stop it now!" Hector Jenkins adds.

"But if they don't, someone could get really hurt," Cressida adds.

That's true, you think to yourself. You're worried about Garreth, especially because he's not even on his typical broom.

Soon, your worry only intensifies as one of the Bludgers begin to act erratically. The crowd turns to panic as it rushes past the fifth row.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "It's headed right towards where Sebastian is!"

"Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here!" Cressida calls out to you.

"I'll be right there!" you reply, watching as they rush off before jumping down to the pitch. In all of the pandemonium, Sebastian gets knocked off his broom and nobody else seems to notice. "Sebastian!" you shout, running as fast as you can to his side. When you finally reach him, his body is bruised and bleeding from the fall. "Hey, Sebastian," you call to him, kneeling beside his body. "You need to get up."

"No," he groans, "I can't. Fuck, get the hell out of here, Weasley. It isn't safe."

"Hold on," you tell him, fumbling around in your clothes for your wand. Then, without another word, you Floo both you and Sebastian out of there. For some reason, the place your brain takes you to is the Room of Requirement.

When the two of you arrive, the room shifts into a sort of medical room. You immediately stand up and rush around for whatever bandages you can find. Sebastian manages to make his way over to a cot where he lets out a deep sigh.

"What the fuck was that?" he grumbles.

"I'm not sure," you reply.

"And why the fuck did you take me with you?" he continues.

"You were hurt and needed help," you retort, pulling out a vial of wiggenweld and some bandages.

"So what? Why did you help me? What happened to hating me?" he questions.

"I don't hate you," you answer. "You're just an ass sometimes."

"Oh yeah?"

"Don't make me regret saving your ass," you shake your head as you lift up his head and place a pillow beneath it. "Now drink."

"Are you serious?" he asks.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"There are a million things wrong with that," he answers.

"Well, you're not really in the best position to be telling me what to do," you scoff as you place the vial in his hand. Sebastian begrudgingly drinks it as you dab the blood off his head with a damp towel. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're so frustrating," he sighs, relaxing against the pillow as you accept the empty bottle back from him.

"Better to be frustrating than an asshole who leaves you bleeding out in the pitch," you smile to yourself. "Now get up, I'm bringing you to Nurse Blainey."

"No!" he quickly insists.

"No?" you look at him.

"Please," he shakes his head, reaching out and taking hold of your arm.

"Why not?"

"She's going to have a fit about it, and I don't want her yelling at me again," he replies. "I've been there too many times this semester. I don't want the lecture. Especially not with you there. Black will certainly have my head."

"Well what do you want me to do then?" you roll your eyes as you fold your arms over your chest.

"I dunno," he shrugs, hissing in pain when he accidentally moves his shoulder, "but maybe we could just stay here."

"Seriously? You're really going to be a baby and make me stay with you here all night? There's no way," you shake your head.

"Why not? Is it 'cause of before? I meant what I said, Y/N, it's not the first time a girl's seen me with my shirt off," he smirks as he attempts to sit up on his own.

You groan to yourself as you sit beside him on the bed. The two of you talk for a while, mostly about your siblings. You don't argue at all, just talk like genuine friends for the first time. Eventually, you begin to feel tired. It's only natural, considering the events of the day.

"Do you want me to walk you back to your room?" he asks softly, slightly waking you up from your half-slumber.

"Hmm?" you grumble, looking over at him.

"Do you want me to walk you back?" he asks again, a small smile growing on his face.

"Mhmm," you nod, "yeah, but, um, could we maybe wait one more minute?"

Sebastian chuckles as he stands up and grabs you by your hand. You feel suddenly a bit more awake as he pulls you to your feet and allows you to stand so close to him this time without saying anything to ruin the moment. "Come on, let's find the way out of here."

The two of you look, you really do, but neither of you can find the exit. "Are you sure there was a door?" Sebastian asks.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I mean, it's supposed to take you wherever you need it," you shrug. "Maybe there was no door because we don't need it. We just need to sleep."

"Does that mean the room is telling us we should sleep together?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow.

"That's not what I said," you grumble.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he chuckles. "But, um, are you okay with staying here?"

"I guess so," you sigh. "There aren't any other options, right? But there's only one cot."

"Don't look at me like that," he shakes his head. "I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor. I'm a gentleman."

"Sure you are," you roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on, Weasley, I thought we were over all that animosity," he shakes his head as he takes a step toward you. "And don't worry, that threat from your brother is clearly engraved in my brain. I won't touch you. Promise."

"I wasn't worried about that," you shake your head.

"Oh, really?" he chuckles. "Good. Then we should probably get some sleep."

With a sigh, you turn away from him and reach down to the hem of your shirt. Before you pull it up, you stop and look over your shoulder.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Stop watching," you insist.

"Oh, right," he laughs, shaking his head as he turns the opposite way to presumably do the same. You quickly take the opportunity to strip down and put on the shirt the room offers to you. It's a long shirt, which is fine. But the problem is that the shirt has no shorts to match. You take what you can get, though, and turn back to face Sebastian.

Your face heats up at the sight, and you hate yourself for it. Sebastian has nothing but boxers on, and he's already lying face-up on the cold floor.

"I won't look," he says, gazing up at the ceiling. "You can join me if you'd like."

"I'm good," you scoff, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing your arms.

"Okay," he nods, his voice soft.

"Sebastian," you begin.

"Yeah?" he replies.

"Thanks," you whisper.

"What was that?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Sallow," you shake your head.

"Alright," he responds. "I'm going to sleep. You should, too."

You don't respond, just lay down on the cot and shut your eyes. However, despite how hard you try, you can't fall asleep.

After what feels like an eternity, Sebastian speaks up. "Y/N, are you still up?"

"Uh huh," you answer, your eyes still closed.

"Can't sleep?"

"Not really," you shrug, opening your eyes and looking at him.

"What's on your mind?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," you tell him.

"Want me to keep talking to you until you fall asleep?"

"That might be a good idea, Sallow. You could bore me to sleep," you scoff.

"Oh, really?" he chuckles.

"No," you shake your head. "Talking to you is actually... kinda nice."

"Wow," he laughs, "you know, I didn't think we'd ever get along."

"Me neither," you answer honestly. "But it's not as bad as I thought, I guess."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I like being friends with you, Y/N. And if you need to talk, I'm here for you. And I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Okay," you nod.

"And, hey, thank you again for saving me out there. That could've been really bad," he sighs.

"I didn't want anything to happen to you, Sallow," you answer softer this time.

After that, silence befalls the two of you again, but in your mind, the silence is so overwhelmingly loud.

You're not sure what it is, but something inside you forces you to grip tightly onto your blanket and sit up from the cot. You take a few steps and kneel down beside where Sebastian is trying to sleep. He looks over at you, puzzled, but waits to hear what you have to say before making any remarks.

You feel so stupid in your mind, but without a single word, you bend down and press a soft kiss against his lips. After the fact, you quickly pull back, your face hot as the fire whisky you drank the last time Gryffindor won a match.

"Weasley, what was-"

"Sebastian," you interject, "do you like me?"

"I don't know," he replies honestly. "You make me feel so many things."

"Do you want to find out?" you ask quietly.

Sebastian answers by grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his lap. His hands slowly run up and down your body before finally settling on your thighs. When he kisses you, it's hungry and desperate, like he's been holding it back all this time.

"Shit," he hisses as you bite his lip, pulling his hair. "You're a fucking tease, Weasley."

"Shut up, Sallow, and touch me," you grumble, kissing his neck before he has a chance to respond.

"Merlin, you're fucking incredible," he breathes out as his fingers slip underneath the hem of your shirt. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I wouldn't be on your lap otherwise," you reply, leaning back a little so he can lift the shirt over your head.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls. "So fucking beautiful."

His hands trail up to cup your breasts, allowing the weight of them to fill his palms. His thumb traces around your nipple, and your head falls back as you let out a soft moan.

"Sebastian," you whisper, gripping his shoulder. "Don't stop, please."

He leans forward and begins kissing down your chest, his lips trailing between your breasts before reaching the space between them. He licks a line from the top to the bottom before gently sucking your skin, earning a small whimper from you.

"Sebastian, please," you beg, pushing your hips down against his. You can feel his hard cock against you, and it drives you wild.

"What's the matter? Impatient?" he smirks.

"You're an asshole," you reply, moving your hand down his warm torso and allowing your fingers to linger above the band of his boxers.

"Yeah, well," he replies, his hands resting on your hips as he pushes his erection up against you. "I just can't help that."

You smirk and kiss his lips once more before leaning back and allowing him to hover above you. "Do whatever you want to me, Sebastian," you whisper against his ear. "I'm yours."

"Fucking hell, Y/N," he curses before his hands grab your sides, pulling your hips against his. He grinds his hips into you, and the friction drives you mad.

"More," you moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "I need more, please."

"You're such a good girl," he breathes out. As he whispers words of praise in your ears, you look up at the ceiling and notice your reflection in the glass. Your eyes widen and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Sebastian," you gasp, your fingers curling tighter into his hair.

"What is it?" he asks, his hands still on your hips.

"The ceiling," you mumble, turning your head. "It's reflecting everything."

"I know," he chuckles.

You playfully shove him back as you realize that he must've been watching you this whole time, despite saying he wouldn't.

"That's fucking embarrassing," you scoff as he pulls himself closer to you again.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I couldn't help myself. I did try my best to keep my eyes off, but I couldn't. You're just too gorgeous.

"I like hearing you say that," you admit quietly.

"I'm glad," he replies. "Now, come here."

You lean forward, expecting another kiss, but instead, he rolls you over. You now lay on your stomach, and he kneels behind you. "Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about seeing you like this?"

"Really?" you ask, looking over your shoulder at him while his hands slowly caress your ass.

"Absolutely," he nods. "You drive me wild."

As your face heats up, you bury it into the blanket beneath you.

"Don't be embarrassed," he tells you, leaning forward and grabbing a fistful of your hair. "I want to hear everything. No holding back."

"Okay," you breathe out.

Sebastian's hand trails down your spine and stops right above your ass. "Tell me, have you ever done this before?"

"Y-yeah," you reply.

"Who was it?" he asks.

"Doesn't matter," you shake your head.

"Hmm," he hums before bringing his hand down to slap your ass. "That's not what I asked."

"Sebastian-"

"I'll only ask once more, Y/N. Who was it?"

"Eric," you mumble.

"Interesting," he remarks. "So, is that why he always makes sure to sit near you?"

"No," you answer.

"Did he touch you like this?" he then asks, his fingers slipping beneath your panties, between your folds, and gently circling your clit.

"Ahh, Sebastian, fuck," you whine, trying to push your hips back against his hand.

"Answer me, Y/N," he demands.

"Yes," you nod, biting your lip.

"What else did he do to you?" he asks, his fingers tracing over your wet cunt.

"He-" you stop, a whimper escaping your lips when his fingers slowly pump inside you.

"You're so wet," he remarks, his voice low. "I doubt you could get this wet to just anyone, Y/N. How many times did you fuck him?"

"I-I'm not sure," you stutter as his fingers begin to work faster.

"Oh, you little liar," he shakes his head.

"Twice," you blurt out, and his fingers stop their ministrations. "Just twice, okay?"

"And did he ever make you cum?" he then asks, his breath hot against your ear.

"N-no," you shake your head. "Only-only once."

"Well, we'll see if I can do better than that," Sebastian chuckles.

"What?" you gulp, not quite sure if you heard him correctly.

"I said, we'll see if I can make you cum harder than he did."

"Fuck," you groan, closing your eyes.

"What was that, Y/N?"

"Please, Sebastian," you beg, pushing yourself up on your elbows.

"What do you want, baby girl?"

"I want you," you whine, trying to push your hips back against his fingers. "I want you to make me come."

"Good girl," he chuckles, his other hand rubbing your clit as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you.

"Sebastian!"

"Come for me, princess."

Your orgasm rips through you and causes your legs to tremble. "Shit," you curse.

"Are you alright, baby girl?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," you nod, and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade.

"We're not done yet," he reminds you, his fingers slowly moving away from your cunt and toward his mouth. "Turn around."

You watch him lick his fingers, tasting you, and it sends a chill down your spine. "You taste incredible, baby girl."

"You're an ass," you grumble.

"Don't you know how to take a compliment, darling?" he chuckles, his eyes locking with yours as he grabs your ankles. He pulls them apart and kneels between them, his face hovering inches away from your dripping pussy.

"Sebastian," you whisper.

Sebastian hums in response as he sticks out his tongue and drags it up and down your slit. You whimper softly and try to squeeze your thighs shut, but Sebastian grabs them and forces them open.

"Don't be embarrassed, darling," he coos.

"Shit," you shake your head, grabbing the sheets beneath you and fisting them into your hands.

"You're so fucking hot," Sebastian groans, his mouth working fast against your cunt.

"Fucking hell, Sebastian," you cry out.

"What's wrong, baby girl?"

"I'm so sensitive," you shake your head, your hips squirming against his face. "You're making me crazy."

"Good," he chuckles, his hands sliding underneath your thighs and lifting your legs over his shoulders.

The room begins to spin around you, and your mind is lost in a fog. Everything feels like it's happening so fast. The feeling of his mouth and fingers is enough to drive you wild, but his tongue is absolutely insane.

"Fuck!" you scream, arching your back as he slips two fingers inside you.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you gasp, your nails clawing into his skin.

"You want more?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, yes," you whimper, tears forming in your eyes.

"Tell me, baby girl," he smirks, his fingers moving faster, his tongue moving slower, "who makes you feel this way?"

"You," you answer, biting your lip.

"Louder, baby girl. Tell me who makes you feel this way."

"You do!" you yell.

"Again."

"You, Sebastian," you nod, tears streaming down your face. "Only you. You're the only one that can make me feel this way. Please, Sebastian, please."

"Please what, Y/N?"

"Fuck, please don't stop," you cry out.

Sebastian, finally satisfied with your answer, moves his tongue and fingers faster. Your eyes roll back and you can barely breathe. You feel as if you're drowning, and the only thing keeping you afloat is the feeling of his hands on your body.

With a scream, your whole body spasms, and your muscles tighten. Sebastian's fingers slow down and eventually stop, but his tongue continues. He takes his time licking you clean before pulling away. "Mmm, you're so fucking delicious," he smirks.

"Fuck, I hate you," you groan.

"No, you don't," he smiles.

"Shut up," you grumble as the two of you shift your positions.

The next thing you know, Sebastian's standing above you while you're on your knees, holding your hair and fucking your head. You close your eyes and take all of him, moaning against his length.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, the things you do to me," he hisses, his grip on your hair tightening.

You moan against him and swallow him down, gagging a little as his tip hits the back of your throat.

"Shit," he gasps.

Your head bobs up and down his shaft, and his cock throbs in your mouth.

"Fuck," he grunts, "you're going to make me come."

You pull off him and lick the tip of his cock.

"Fuck, such a little tease," he growls, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "Don't think that just because we're doing this, I'm going to be nice to you."

"I don't expect you to be nice to me," you reply, smirking as his eyes widen. "But you're not the only one who can tease."

You take his cock into your mouth again, and his hands move to the back of your head, holding you in place. His hips thrust forward and back, fucking your throat.

"God, you're a little slut," he groans, his cock twitching in your mouth.

"Mhmm," you nod, pulling him deeper down your throat.

"Fuck," he hisses.

He pulls his cock out and strokes it quickly, and his come shoots out onto your face. It covers your cheeks and your nose. You make no attempt to open your mouth until he's completely done.

"Damn, Y/N, I didn't know you liked getting dirty," he chuckles. "Go ahead, you can taste it."

You stick out your tongue and lick the tip of his cock. He groans as you clean his shaft.

"Fuck, I could watch you do that all day," he shakes his head.

Once you're finished with him, you pull back and gaze up at his half-lidded eyes.

"Shit, baby girl," he smirks, kneeling down and cupping your face. He leans forward and glides his middle finger across the mess on your face before telling you to open your mouth. Without hesitation, you part your lips, and he pushes his finger in. You suck it, cleaning off the bitter fluid, and his cock twitches as he watches.

"You're amazing," he tells you, kissing your cheek. "Come here."

He guides you to your feet and leads you to the edge of the bed. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap.

"So, what happens now?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," you shrug.

"Well," he begins, "I suppose we should go to bed. It's late, and tomorrow is a new day."

"That's true," you nod. "But you haven't fucked me yet."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, his hands sliding up your thighs and squeezing your ass.

"Yes," you reply, biting your lip.

"Good," he smiles, "because I'm not done with you, baby girl."

The two of you laugh as Sebastian rolls you over. You lay on your back, your head resting on the pillow, and Sebastian hovers above you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, stroking himself above you.

"Idiot, get a condom," you smirk as you push him off of you. "I thought you said I was the impatient one."

"Oh, right," he chuckles, grabbing his wand and conjuring up a condom.

"Hurry up, Sallow," you tease.

"Merlin, you're a bossy one," he groans.

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry," you roll your eyes.

Sebastian slips the condom on and leans forward, placing a soft kiss against your lips.

"Are you ready, baby girl?" he asks, his lips lingering near yours.

"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip.

Sebastian reaches between the two of you and positions his cock at your entrance.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes out, kissing your neck and slowly sliding inside of you.

"Ahh," you whimper.

"Fuck, so tight," he groans, pushing further inside. "You're so perfect."

"Sebastian," you gasp as his cock fills you. "Slowly..."

"Don't worry, darling, I've got you," he smiles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

His hips move slowly at first, his cock stretching and filling you with every thrust. But as time passes, he begins to move faster.

"More," you pant, "I need more."

"You like that?"

"Fuck, Sebastian, fuck me harder," you beg.

"God, Y/N, the way you say my name," he growls, slamming into you. "It drives me crazy."

Sebastian reaches his right hand up to yours and grips tightly. You look up at him with wide eyes as his thumb strokes the back of your hand.

"Do you feel that?" he asks.

"Yes," you nod.

"I'm so close, baby girl. Fuck, I'm so close."

Your eyes begin to water as you glance down between your two bodies. He's so deep inside you, and it feels amazing.

"Come for me, Sebastian," you whimper, biting your lip and clenching around him.

"Shit, Y/N, I can't believe I waited seven years for this," he pants. "Merlin, and I'd do it again, too, just to get the chance to see you like this. To feel you."

His grip on your hand tightens as he pushes himself as deep inside of you as possible. Your orgasm rips through your body, causing you to cry out.

"That's it, darling," he whispers. "I'm right there. Come for me."

Sebastian thrusts one more time, and you feel his cock pulse inside of you as he comes.

"Fuck," he groans, collapsing beside you. "That's so worth getting hit with Weasley's crucio curse."

"Can you not talk about my brother right now?" you smile as you roll to your side to face him.

"Right," he nods, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay," you tell him, tracing the lines of his abs.

"That was fun," he tells you. "I do hope that wasn't a one-time thing."

"Yeah," you agree.

"Good," he smiles, placing a kiss against your forehead.

The two of you spend the night talking, and you end up falling asleep in each other's arms. You hate to admit it, but you do enjoy spending time with him... And it's not until the next day that you feel the repercussions of sleeping with a Slytherin.

***

The following morning, you appraoch the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall to a bunch of worried faces.

"Where the hell have you been?" Garreth asks as you sit beside down beside him like nothing out of the ordinary happened the night befoer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you scoff, reaching for a plate of roasted potatoes in front of you.

"You didn't come back to the room last night," Cressida remarks. "Where'd you sleep last night?"

"Uh," you mutter as you try to avoid the conversation by drinking a large cup of orange juice.

"Y/N," Garreth begins, "where did you sleep last night?"

"Well," you begin, setting your glass down and looking over at him, "I slept somewhere else."

Leander nearly chokes on his apple juice as he realizes the meaning of your words.

"I told you not to do anything stupid!" Garreth shouts.

"And I didn't," you shrug.

"You're unbelievable," he groans, shaking his head.

"Who was it?" Cressida asks you curiously. "Was it Northcott?"

"Couldn't've been him," Leander shakes his head. "He was with us."

"Well if nobody was missing from the Gryffindor dorms then that means..." Cressida trails off. "Y/N! You didn't!"

"Wait, what're you implying?" Garreth intervenes. But before anyone can say anything else, the Slytherin quidditch team approaches where you are all seated.

"Hey there," Imelda smirks at your brother. "How's everyone's breakfast? I hope you're enjoying it since it's the last one you'll be eating."

"What's that supposed to mean, Reyes?" Garreth scoffs, looking up at the girl.

"Nothing," she replies, her smile growing. "But, uh, Sallow has something he wants to give back to your sister."

You've never seen Garreth's head whip around so fast in your life when he realizes what Imelda is implying. When he notices the sorry look on your face he stands up and glares across the table at Sebastian. "YOU DIDN'T!"

"Um, Garreth, let's just go outside and-" you try to reason with him as you grab his hand

"No!" he replies, pulling away from your reach.

"Garreth, please," you beg.

"Not a chance in hell," he scoffs. "I'll fucking kill him, Y/N!"

"I didn't realize it was going to be like this," Sebastian shrugs, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"What did you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't really think about it, Weasley," he answers with a shrug.

"Yeah, that sounds like you," Garreth sneers.

"Listen, man, it's not what it looks like," Sebastian begins, his hands coming up in front of him as if to defend himself for Garreth's inevitable attack. "What I mean to say is, I thought Y/N would have already told you. I, uh, actually do like her."

"You can't be serious, Sallow," Leander speaks up, a frown etched across his face. "There's no way. You're a snake. A vile, evil, despicable snake, and Y/N doesn't belong with a Slytherin."

You, Sebastian, and Garreth all roll your eyes at Leander's comment. "Stay out of this," Garreth grumbles.

"No," Leander insists, stepping closer to Sebastian. "This isn't right. This isn't fair."

"Why not?" you question, turning to him.

"Because... because it just isn't," Leander replies. "He's a Slytherin, and you're a Gryffindor, Y/N."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," he shakes his head. "You're our friend. Not his. I won't lose you to-"

Before Leander can say anything more idiotic, Sebastian waves his wand and effectively shuts Leander up with a silencing charm.

"I know what you said, Weasley, and I can understand why you wouldn't want me being with Y/N, but the fact is, she does like me," Sebastian shrugs.

"And why should I trust you?" Garreth sneers.

"Honestly," Sebastian begins, taking a deep breath, "I have no idea, and if I were you, I probably wouldn't. But ask her for yourself."

When Garreth turns to you, your whole body tenses up. How much more embarrasing could this get? You're attracting attention from nearly the whole room and the last thing you want is to be the center of the school's gossip.

"Is he telling the truth, Y/N?"

"Yeah," you sigh, your gaze landing on the ground. "He is. As much as I'd rather not admit it."

"Why?" Garreth asks.

"Because... because..." you shake your head.

Garreth sighs. "Fine, Y/N, if being with a Slytherin obsessed with dark arts and practicing the Unforgivables is what makes you happy, then I can't stop you. Just, promise me that I won't ever have to see the two of you... together."

"Gross," you grumble.

"I don't practice the Unforgivables..." Sebastian says while scratching the back of his neck, as if he's trying to convince himself.

"Yeah whatever," Garreth sighs as he sits back down. "Are you sitting with us or not?"

Sebastian's smirk widens as he sits down across from the two of you. The look on Cressida's face is priceless as she scoots over to make room for him.

"Oh, I'm definitely sitting."

Masterlist

[niabridges]

You Look So Good In My Colours

Warning: MDNI. 18+ 🔞 EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT Word count: ~3800 Pairing: Sebastian Sallow | FemReader

Additional warnings: Rough sex, slapping, possessiveness, submission

We all had a Quidditch Seb fantasy at some point. Here is just me letting out some steam in that direction. Read below or on AO3

Her eyes flew open, heart pounding. Had she imagined it? The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the phantom weight of Sebastian’s arm around her waist... Her fingertips brushed the empty space, still warm, and a shiver ran down her spine. She buried her face in his pillow, breathing deep, the faint scent of his cologne a bittersweet reminder.

She stretched, blinking through the canopy, vision blurring then snapping into focus. Ominis stood by the basin, his usual focus now bent on the careful ritual of shaving. “Morning,” she managed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Morning, dove.” He didn’t turn around, his attention on the razor’s glide.

“Thanks, as always, for…” she trailed off, cheeks warming. How to explain the strange intimacy they’d fallen into? “...for everything.”

Ominis chuckled, a low rumble. “Blind, not oblivious, love.” Still focused on his task. One hand held his chin, the other meticulously dragging the razor across his pale face. “Besides, who am I to begrudge a girl in love a bit of nighttime comfort? Just don’t tell Sebastian I said so. I am keeping a stern attitude with him, otherwise, he’d have you over each night.”

She laughed, tension easing. “My lips are sealed.” Stepping closer, she couldn’t resist the study of him – the focused line of his jaw, the faint dusting of stubble. “Here, you missed a bit. May I?”

“Thanks, love.” He handed her the razor, and a jolt went through her as their fingers brushed.  Carefully, gently, she finished the task, his warmth so close. “You’re better at this than Sebastian ever was,” Ominis murmured leaning down to splash his face in cold water.

“Speaking of which, do you happen to know where he’s sauntered off to?” she asked as Ominis finished patting his face dry.

“Slept in, shamefully,” he admitted. “Not a peep from Sebastian. Odd, that.”

“Slept like a rock myself. Had the nicest dream, though I can’t remember it.” She tugged at her tie. “Ugh, Saturdays are for freedom.” With a toss, the tie landed on the bed.

Ominis straightened his robes. “Any plans for the day?”

“First, a proper wake-up with a bath... then I suppose I’ll try to hunt down Seb,” she shrugged. “What about you?”

“Prefect duties. Someone’s got to keep the chaos in check. Though I might just hide out with you two if you promise more of those… late-night ‘study sessions’.”

She laughed and playfully swatted at him, a blush warming her cheeks. “Must you tease? See you later, Ominis.” A lingering touch on his shoulder, then she was gone.

The common room hummed with the usual Saturday morning chaos as she emerged from the corridor – a heated whisper about a losing chess game, a burst of laughter from the first-years' corner. The air hung sweet with tea and candy. From the top of the stairs, where the seventh-year dorms spilled out, she scanned the scene below, hoping for a glimpse of Sebastian curled by the fireplace, lost in a book. But there was no sign of him, and a sigh escaped her lips.

She turned to enter her dormitory, relieved to find it empty. Then, Imelda’s Quidditch gear sprawled across the floor caught her eye. Of course! Sebastian must have left for Saturday morning practice. She’d find him at the pitch, but first, a bath was desperately needed.

Slipping into the bathroom, she ran a warm, bubbly bath, discarding her clothes in a haphazard pile. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced in the mirror and noticed tiny purple marks on her neck.  Her fingers traced them thoughtfully, thinking back to last night's activities before she turned to lock the door.

Finally, she slid into the water, a sigh escaping her as the warm bubbles enveloped her. As she relaxed her hand instinctively ran over the bump over her wet foamy breast, the touch instigating a nipple to firm up, as her finger slid back over it she felt tingles running through her body. Flicking her finger over her hardened peak her thoughts were on Sebastian again. His musky smell, him towering over her, his greedy hands kneading her breasts. She gasped and bit into her lower lip. 

Her other hand slid underwater to rub in between her aching folds. His voice rang like a deep melody inside her head “That’s it, my siren. Take it all.” And that chuckle of his, damn him. She began to tremble. Eyes tightly shut. The image of Sebastian was clear in her mind’s eye. With a combined effort of rubbing her nipple and her clit she felt a strong tremble rumble through her body. The slightest whimper and a moan escaped her lips as he came undone. Her heart aching to jump out of her chest. She exhaled leaning against the wall of the tub and relaxed, satisfied.

♡♡♡

“Eyes on me, for Merlin’s sake! That Bludger nearly took my head off!” Imelda barked, swooping closer to Sebastian on her broom. “What’s gotten into you, Sallow? I need you focused out here,” she demanded.

Sebastian snapped to attention. “Understood. Sorry.” He repositioned himself, wincing as the broom’s hilt pressed uncomfortably against his groin. Tight Quidditch trousers didn’t help matters either. He gripped the broom tightly, knuckles whitening. Then, a whirring sound from behind – he ducked just as a rogue Bludger whizzed past.

“You’re supposed to hit them, not dodge them!” Imelda yelled. “Bloody hell, Sallow, take five!” She snarled, flying off to regroup with the team.

Sebastian landed, sliding off his broom with an exasperated sigh. He'd been struggling on and off this morning with a particularly stubborn erection and was trying his best to hide that fact from his teammates. However, the ache seemed to worsen when his feet touched the ground. He groaned, feeling the weight and pain in his groin. Panicked, he quickly jumped back on his broom and zoomed toward Madam Kogawa's quarters. Thankfully, he knew she was away at the Ministry this weekend, leaving the quarters empty. He tossed his broom aside and, with a quick Alohomora, he entered inside.

When Imelda turned to scold him, he was gone, panting and leaning against the closed door. Bloody hell, all his blood seemed to rush to a singular spot, churning uncomfortably within him, making him squirm. It was all her fault. This morning when he'd opened his eyes, he'd immediately realized two things: he was running late for practice, and he'd woken up with a... pressing need. His body ached with desire, fueled by the warmth of her pressed against him.

To his great misfortune, this wasn't one of those fleeting morning wood situations. No, this one had persisted throughout practice – for Merlin's sake! He groaned, too afraid to even touch the bulge in his trousers. Carefully he lowered his hand. This was pathetic. Was he really going wank himself off in Kogawa’s office? Yet, he couldn’t go anywhere with his cock outlined against his trousers like that. Damn. Sebastian closed his eyes wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.

♡♡♡

She breathed the crisp spring air of fresh grass as she stepped onto the Quidditch pitch. Her eyes fixated on the group of green and white robes, and she quickened her pace hoping Sebastian would be among them. However, he was not.

“Hey Imelda, have you seen Sebastian?” she inquired, positively confused that he wasn’t at the practice.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Imelda retorted, annoyance lacing her voice. “He was slacking all morning and when I told him to get it together, the knobhead ran away! Oh, the audacity!” she scoffed angrily.

“Ran away?” She asked, her confusion growing.

“Yes. Now, if you find him, tell him to get his arse back to the pitch right this second. I’m not finished with him!” Imelda growled, straddling her broom.

As she watched Imelda take off. She scratched her head, the absurdity of the situation dawning on her, as she started to walk back to the courtyard. Her eyes scanned for any sign of him. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t far away. As she exited the Quidditch pitch, she noticed a discarded Slytherin (his) broom near the entrance to Kogawa’s office. She smirked. There you are.

She approached the door and knocked gently, testing her luck. Silence answered from the other side. She knocked again, this time more firmly.

“Who – who is it?” She heard Sebastian’s startled voice.

“It’s me,” she chuckled.

“Oh,” the tone in his voice shifted. He stepped back to the door and unlocked it. When he saw his girlfriend standing there, he thanked the heavens, and a smirk spread across his face. “You’re just in time,” he said in a sultry voice.

He pressed his hand against his aching bulge and breathed in sharply. "Okay, this might sound weird, but I need to be honest. My… uh… lower regions are protesting. Loudly . All because of you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. "Don't laugh at me. I'm serious! I need release, or I might actually end up in the hospital wing," he groaned, pressing his hand against the trousers where his arousal was tightly confined.

She bit her lower lip, taking in the sight of him. “You could give me a taste of what’s been keeping you in such a... flustered state.” Her grin was wicked, eyes flickering between his trousers and his face.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, a taste, you say?” He licked his bottom lip and stepped closer, grasping her hips and spinning her around. Pressing her back against the door, he murmured, “I'll give you a taste of my fantasies. But first…” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, “Please, let me have a taste of you.” He dropped to his knees, hands sliding her skirt tentatively up her thighs.

She shivered against the cool wood as he began placing feather-light kisses along her inner thigh, breathing in her scent. With each kiss, he worked his way slowly upwards. “Mmm, sweetheart, I’ve been a mess all morning,” he moaned into her skin, the heat of his breath raising goosebumps. “I’ve been bad,” he murmured. “Skipped my practice,” he mumbled as he teased her with tiny kisses against her sensitive area.

“Maybe I’ll have to punish you for that,” she purred, gazing down at him through her lashes, pressing his face closer between her thighs.

Sebastian chuckled, his fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, and a shiver ran through her as he slid them down, gently, yet with undeniable determination. He inhaled sharply, the scent of her arousal intoxicating him. Cursing under his breath, his eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure overwhelmed him.

Slowly, he gripped her thighs, bringing her glistening folds closer to his face, “Mmm,” he moaned “That’s what I love about you. You’re always dripping for me.” He slid his tongue inside slowly gliding up and down, savoring the juices. “Gods, you taste so good,” he growled against her flesh.

She quivered. Well-practiced ministrations of his tongue sent her into oblivion and her fingers tightened in his soft brown locs, pulling, tugging for a sliver of self-control. As if she ever had any when it came to him. 

Sebastian moaned softly as she tugged at his hair. It spurred him to plunge his tongue deeper between her folds, adding a finger to slide over her nub in a thoughtful circular motion. His other hand fell to the front of his trousers, lazily undoing the laces. His aching erection finally sprang free. He palmed around his throbbing arousal while still keeping attention to the movements of his tongue. The growls against her skin created vibrations that deepened her moans and whimpers which in turn gave him valuable cues. With each flick of his tongue, he felt her tremble more. “Shh baby,” he ordered, “don’t come just yet.”

His thumb circled the tip of his cock, spreading the gathering precum around his length, but it somehow wasn’t enough. He moved his face away from her if only for a moment to glide his palm over her dripping pool, picking up as much lubrication as he could. He then coated himself with the juices of her arousal, gazing up at her with hooded, lust-filled eyes. That, right there , would make her come undone if she weren’t holding back, enjoying his little show. 

“Look at yourself,” she grinned through soft moans while lazily rubbing herself. The sight of him on his knees drove her mad. Her eyes fixed on his form as he stroked his cock in long, languid motions. 

Sebastian stood up, “I need to be inside you…will you let me?” he pleaded, voice dripping with desire. He wanted her permission.

“Yes,” she cooed, “ yes ,” she repeated and pressed herself back further into the door as he started to grind his hips against hers.

“Not here though…mmm, so many possibilities,” he breathed, his breath hot against her earlobe before he gently nipped it. “Perhaps I’ll have you on your hands and knees taking me like the insatiable little minx you are.” His fingers trailed teasingly down her spine making her shiver. “Or… I could lay you out on this desk and have my wicked way with you, watching your face contort in ecstasy,” he purred down her ear before his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “The only question is which position shall I ruin you in first?”

She melted in his hands, arching her neck, and exposing it to him. The anticipation of his bruising touch made her skin thrum. “...desk... the desk,” she choked out, lust overriding any sense of control. His own words echoed back to her: “Ruin me, Sebastian.” A whimper escaped her, a mix of shame and the desperate desire he’d coaxed forth.

Sebastian pulled her flush against him his length pressing insistently against her sensitive flesh. “Precisely, darling,” he purred, “I plan to fill every inch of you, over and over, until you can think of nothing but my cock buried deep inside you.” He relished in the sensation of how those words made her shiver like a twig in his arms. He ground his hips against hers with more fervor. “You’re going to be utterly ruined for anyone else…” 

“Like anyone else ever deserved me…” she added, her insistent nods urging him on. With a swift motion, he scooped her into his strong arms, carrying her to Kogawa's desk. Parchments and clutter flew aside with a careless sweep of his hand, and he laid her down on the smooth wood.

“Oh you know me well, sweetheart, now…” his hands ran smoothly down her thighs, “let’s not prolong this any further.” His fingers glided across her slickness eliciting soft moans from her. He wanted to make sure she was thoroughly coated before rubbing some of her essence on his himself as well. “I am in pain, remember?” He groaned as he pushed himself between her thighs, his tip pressing insistently between her folds, he was about to…

“Wait,” she gasped, her hand pressing urgently against his chest.

“Sweetheart,” he growled, the guttural vibration of his voice a mix of frustration and desire. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I want…” her eyes fluttered and she bit her lip. “...I want you to fuck me in your Quidditch jersey.”

Sebastian closed his eyes, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, do you now?” His voice was a low rumble. “Take off your shirt.” She obeyed him. In one fluid motion, he stripped off his jersey, his toned, muscular physique rippling in the dim light. Possessively, he draped the jersey over her, the scent of his sweat and masculinity enveloping her. “Now, let me show you just how well I can handle my broom…” he smirked. No matter how ridiculous he sounded, he was lost in the moment.

Satisfied with the view below he surged forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, finally repositioning himself at her entrance. His tip glided over her slick wet folds. He groaned “‘Sallow’ looks so fucking good on you,” he gripped the hem of the jersey and with one swift motion thrust inside her, hitting the deepest spot.

She gasped her eyes wide open in surprise as she took hi,. “I always…wanted…ahh…this.” her words were coming out in between his measured thrusts.

His eyes gleamed with unbridled desire as he gazed down at her, his hands grasping the hem of his shirt on her possessively. “You have no idea how hot you sound,” he groaned while leaning in claiming her lips, bruising them, almost. His hips surged forward. He wanted to bury himself deeper into her welcoming heat. “Fuck, you look so good in my colours…” he growled, breath hot against her skin, his thrusts began to quicken drawing a cacophony of moans out of her. 

“The idea of somebody catching us…ah, Sebastian,” she moaned, her hips bucking to meet each of his thrusts, his scent driving her crazy. Her nails dug deep into his freckled shoulders dragging down his arms. Each time he leaned in for a bruising kiss, her tongue glided masterfully over his, teasing, and driving him more mad.

His hips snapped forward with renewed urgency, his thick length plunging deeper into her core over and over. His fingers released the jersey and glided upwards to cup her breasts underneath, kneading them until he deftly moved his fingers over her nipples, instantly hardening her peaks.

He flicked one finger over her nipple while the other hand found its way back down to her plush clit. “That’s it darling, let me see you come undone around me,” he groaned and flicked his fingers with more intention while maintaining a thrusting rhythm and he could feel her walls tremble. 

Her first orgasm washed over her whole body, erupting from her core and sending tingles down to her toes. Her walls clenched around his cock hard, and he strained leaning forward to devour her moans of pleasure. He moaned in desperation, as he felt his own impending release, he bit down into his lip making it bleed, tasting iron. He wouldn’t let himself come yet. This was just too good to end it here.

She laughed breathlessly beneath him. “Don’t stop,” she urged even though the sensitivity of the afterglow made her squirm beneath his insistent thrusts.

“Mhm, that’s it darling, squeeze me just like that,” he growled while regaining momentum and rolling his hips in a sensual grind. “I am going to wring every last drop from you. You feel so bloody incredible, dripping and clenching around me,” he cried out.

She arched forward eagerly meeting his every hard pulse. Hoisting up the jersey she pulled his face down to her breasts urging him to suck at her aching buds. Sebastian relished in the taste of flesh, his tongue capturing hungrily one of her pert nipples between his teeth and sucking on it, rekindling her arousal. His hips continued relentless pace, driving himself deeper, hitting her sweet spots over and over. “You’re mine, do you hear me? He growled, his other free hand kneading her other breast roughly. “Every inch of you belongs to me now. Say it.”

“I am yours,” she cried out through strained moans, his deep thrusts and rough handling making her head spin. “I am Sallow’s girl,” she moaned. Suddenly, she wanted to give in deeply to his possessive desires. She wanted his rough treatment to be even more intense. “Slap me!” she demanded.

“What did you say?” her demand surprised him, making him slow down momentarily.

“Slap me, Sebastian” she insisted. “I am yours. Have your way with me.”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed with unbridled lust at her wanton plea. With a feral growl, he brought his palm down in a sharp, stinging slap against her cheek. “You’re damn right, you’re mine,” he snarled possessively, his hips pounding into her with renewed fervor. He leaned in, dragging his lips over her abused flesh.

She pulled his hair tugging him closer. He buried himself to the hilt into her slick warmth. “Take every inch of me,” he nuzzled into her neck. She panted heavily chasing another wave of pleasure under his relentless rhythm. Beads of his sweat dripped down from his chestnut hair strands onto her shoulder. She hooked one of her arms around his neck letting it slowly trail lower until reaching his groin, gently squeezing, drawing out guttural sounds.

“Fuck,” he strained “Keep doing that love and you’ll have me spilling inside you…” his voice dropped to a ragged growl as he gazed down at her with pure lust burning in his eyes. “I won’t be able to hold back much longer…”

Her fingers teased and brushed his sensitive sac, making his breath hitch, his hips bucked forward involuntarily. “Bloody hell, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled, his voice thick with raw need. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fill you.”

Her hand found its way back to her clit, rubbing it tentatively chasing her orgasm and matching his impending release. “I’ll be there with you,” she breathed.

“Yes, I need you to…” he groaned, coiled tension within him threatening to shatter. His form contorted over her, toes curling, feeling her tight walls squeeze around him once again. He gripped onto the fabric of his green jersey. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, filling her deeply with his, hot pulsing seed.

“I am right here with you,” he breathed heavily against her hair, still coming down from his intense release. She could feel him tremble above her.

“That was a lot,” she breathed, as he collapsed down. Her fingers threaded through his damp locs. Their lips met in a long, languid kiss, a sigh escaping her. His fingers traced the flush on her cheeks, then moved to roam her face, gently worshiping each feature.

He pulled out slowly, not breaking their connection entirely. He marveled at her sated form beneath him, the glow of her skin, the way she still trembled. A glistening trail ran down her thigh, and he traced it with a fingertip before sliding his hand gently upwards back into her well-used folds. “There, that’s better,” he murmured, his voice rough with tenderness. He scooped her into his arms, her warmth a delicious weight against him.

She chuckled against his chest. “What’s so funny?” He looked down at her, a gentle kiss landing on her hair.

“Imelda told me to bring your arse back to the pitch the second I found you,” she murmured, giggling.

“There were… more pressing matters to resolve first,” Sebastian smirked, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“I'll take care of Imelda,” she murmured, kissing him again, a shiver running through her. “But don’t think this is over.” With a final, lingering touch, she stepped away, leaving him wanting more.

“There were… more pressing matters to resolve first,” Sebastian smirked, his fingers tangling in her hair.

“I'll take care of Imelda,” she murmured, kissing him again, a shiver running through her. “But don’t think this is over.” With a final, lingering touch, she stepped away, leaving him wanting more.

[shadesofgaunt]

The boys in their Quidditch uniforms

[radical-ghostface]

Is anyone else weirdly obsessed with the idea of Cheerleader MC x Quidditch Captain Seb, or is it just me?

[ultraviolet-x]

Gryffindor v Slytherin

Loving this new outfit mod

[shadowtriovibes]

pt. iii: sweat it out

pt. i: break a sweat || pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, fluff and smut, quidditch jersey porn, sexy massages, dirty talk, romanticizing doggy style

Summary: born of two requests: "what about sebastian fucking the reader while she's wearing his quidditch jersey. i can see him going feral when he sees his last name on her back" and "Maybe for Part 3, MC is giving Bash a much needed massage after all of his HARD quidditch practices and games… in nothing but his jersey."

Sebastian reluctantly turns over onto his stomach so that you can sit astride his hips. As soon as you rest your weight on top of him, he exhales tiredly as if he’s just set down a towering stack of books at the librarian’s desk – like he’s let go of a weight he hadn’t realized had slowly become so burdensome in his arms. "Relax," you murmur. "I've got you." Then he tilts his head to rest on his folded hands. You know he can’t quite see you at an angle this, but you still catch just a glimpse of his warm brown eyes before they flutter shut.

Climbing all the way up to the Room of Requirement after one of his weekend Quidditch practices must be excruciating for Sebastian, you think.

After practice, he’s usually sore just about everywhere – from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet he positively aches. Having seen him in action you know that he’ll often race upwards of a hundred kilometers on his broom simply doing laps around the pitch and tracking down the school’s enchanted practice Snitches.

To make matters worse, he’s forced to skip breakfast to be at the pitch by sun-up on strict orders from his captain, who goes on to keep the team well past eleven. Now he must be starving, but if you know your love, he’ll steadfastly ignore the temptation to go straight to the Great Hall for lunch and instead make the trek up to the seventh-floor corridor.

That’s precisely why you’re waiting for him there.

In the mornings when he has practice, you like to treat yourself to a bit of a lie-in and lazily wait around for his return so you can have lunch together. You would be happy to meet him downstairs when he returns to the castle, but lately, Anne and Ominis have protested whenever Sebastian joins the lunch table straight from practice still flushed, sweating, and covered in mud from the waist down.

(Those two have become exponentially more autocratic since they started courting.)

Thus, Sebastian usually decides to be a gentleman and change first.

In the months since the start of Quidditch season and Sebastian’s first overnight stay in the Room of Requirement, he’s slowly started bringing in his belongings until he’d effectively moved out of the dormitories and into a shared nest with you. Most of his clothes were there by now, along with his endless piles of library books and his cherished personal collection of secondhand novels from Tomes and Scrolls.

You assume he’ll probably want to quickly strip off his mucked-up robes and find something clean to change into so he can escort you downstairs for lunch. But despite the exhausting morning he must have already had, you don’t feel quite enough pity for your Sebastian to take it easy on him when he finally arrives.

When he enters the room, he finds you lounging on the bed reading one of his beloved Muggle novels – wearing nothing but one of his Quidditch jerseys.

“Sebastian!” you call out happily when you look up.

“Morning, love,” he answers as he shoves the heavy door closed.

“You’re finally free,” you joke, closing your book. “I thought I’d have to come down to the pitch soon and challenge Imelda to a duel to get her to set you loose.”

“I won’t mind seeing that,” he laughs. “That would have been quite chivalrous of you.”

He shrugs out of his Quidditch robes and pulls his own soaking-wet shirt up over his head. You watch longingly as his core flexes – all those hours on a broom have made him exceptionally well-defined, and you wish you could simply get on your knees right then and there to spend your morning tracing your tongue over every delineated band of muscle.

“You know,” he teases, pulling you from your reverie. “I had planned to just put on a clean shirt to go down to lunch, but it seems you’ve nicked my spare.”

“Did I?” you say, feigning innocence. “I just grabbed the first thing I could find, I swear.”

Sebastian glances at you skeptically before sitting down at what has become “his” desk to take off his boots. You frown when you catch him wincing while he bends at the waist.

“Are you hurt?” you ask him softly.

“No,” he insists. “Just sore all over.”

“Bash,” you croon. “Poor babe.”

“Come off it, I’m fine,” he laughs. “I just need some food and a nice long bath and I’ll be grand.”

You climb off the bed and saunter over to him in his chair, appreciating the way his eyes skim across the hem of his pilfered jersey. With every step, your hips sway and tease him with quick glimpses of the tops of your bare legs.

“Are you sure?” you ask sweetly. “Because if you’re feeling poorly, I can take care of you.”

Not even the promise of dry clothes and a warm meal could pull Sebastian’s attention from such a tempting offer, especially not while you’re wearing his clothes.

He sits back in his chair while you kneel in front of him to carefully unlace his Quidditch boots. After you take off his pads as well, it’s just too easy to climb onto his lap and wind your arms around his shoulders.

Sebastian’s gaze dips down to the space between your legs. He lays one palm flat against your thigh and uses his thumb to ruck up the hem of the jersey just a bit.

“You haven’t got anything on under this, do you?” he asks knowingly.

“Not a stitch,” you breathe.

Sebastian groans quietly and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you tightly against him.

“Leave it on,” he says in a low voice. “I want to see you in my jersey the entire time I’m taking you apart.”

“Not so fast, Sallow,” you counter. “Let me give you a massage first, it will help with the soreness.”

“A ‘massage?’” he asks hopefully.

When you merely raise an eyebrow at him, he looks simply crushed.

“You’re joking,” he says flatly. “You… you actually mean to ‘take care’ of me? In an actual ‘nurse-me-back-to-health’ sort of way?”

“I mean both the regular way and the devious way,” you laugh. “But if you’re aching right now, it’s not going to be much fun for you.”

“You are sincerely wrong about that,” he argues, but you’re undeterred.

“Let me do this first,” you bargain. “I promise you’ll feel better afterward.”

There’s a bit more whining and attempts to seduce you as you wriggle free of Sebastian’s lap and tug on his arm so he’ll walk over to the bed. He strips down to the garment layer he wears beneath his uniform pants and kindly allows you to shove him onto the bed.

He’s peering up at you expectantly, obviously hoping you’ll cave and climb onto his lap once again.

“Turn over, Sebastian,” you say with a fond eye roll. “On your stomach.”

“You’re malicious,” he gripes. “An evil, wicked sorceress.”

Sebastian reluctantly turns over onto his stomach so that you can sit astride his hips. As soon as you rest your weight on top of him, he exhales tiredly as if he’s just set down a towering stack of books at the librarian’s desk – like he’s let go of a weight he hadn’t realized had slowly become so burdensome in his arms.

“Relax,” you murmur. “I’ve got you.”

Then he tilts his head to rest on his folded hands. You know he can’t quite see you at an angle this, but you still catch just a glimpse of his warm brown eyes before they flutter shut.

Go on, he says without words. Touch me. I trust you.

You think you could just stay here all day with your hands on his slightly-chilly skin. Warming him up to your touch, you skim your hands across his firm shoulder blades, along the tops of his sun-kissed shoulders, and then down the solid expanse of aching muscle in his back. He’s so broad beneath you, you think, even on his stomach. Without his height to add to the imposing figure he usually cuts, he nevertheless looks perfectly capable of rolling you off of him should he desire.

Knowing that there’s very little he could desire less sends an excited shiver through you. It’s a privilege, getting to be gentle with a man like Sebastian.

After all, except for when his hands are on your body, Sebastian is anything but gentle. He’s headstrong, impulsive, and obstinately ungovernable when he knows he’s in the right. Physically, he’s grown into a body that matches.

You shouldn’t be surprised that despite playing as a Seeker, Sebastian is not the kind of athlete who relies on being lithe and quick on his broom. Whenever he finds himself in a dead heat for the Snitch, he routinely throws his whole body into a maneuver and hurdles himself into his opposing Seeker to knock them off their path.

He’s brutish on the pitch and offers no apologies for it, though he will extend a gentlemanly hand whenever he bests the other Seeker to their prize.

Worst of all is that he has no fear of mutually assured destruction. He wants to win, sure; but more importantly, he wants the other team to lose. If that means both he and his opponent must crash into the ground in a pile of torn sports robes and grass stains before being hauled up to the Hospital Wing by an exasperated Nurse Blainey, so be it.

(Needless to say, you aren’t the only one who calls him “Bash” anymore.)

You consider all this while you quietly work through some of the larger knots that have built up in the muscles of his back. His body has kept hold of a momentous amount of trauma over the years, and if you can help dissolve even a fraction of it with your hands, you’ll be overjoyed.

Carefully you splay the palms of your hands against his bare skin and concentrate hard on spreading warmth and relaxation through the striations of Sebastian’s muscles. You visualize your magic wrapping through the infinitely small tears and bruises he’s endured to diffuse a relief that emanates a warm, pinkish glow you can genuinely see.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asks, his voice slurred.

“How do you feel?” you whisper.

“Incredible,” he breathes. “Are you…? Is this magic that you’re doing? Ancient magic?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” you admit softly. “Regular magic, ancient magic… It’s probably a bit of both.”

“How did you–?” Sebastian asks before trailing off in a lazy, satisfied moan. “Merlin, it feels good.”

“Anne’s been showing me some of the healing magic she’s been studying with Nurse Blainey,” you say softly. “It’s actually quite interesting, Anne is quite talented with–”

“No more talking about Anne for a little while, love,” Sebastian grits out. “Just – just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. Please.”

You giggle softly while you slide your hands down further to the base of his spine, where you know for a fact he carries an unjust amount of tension. It’s precisely there that he stores his worries about upcoming N.E.W.T. exams, his all-important role on the Quidditch team, and the pressure he puts on himself to succeed so he can take care of Anne once you all graduate – you too, now, even though you insist you’ll be equals in every way possible.

“Feeling a bit better?” you ask him hopefully.

“Can’t remember the last time I felt this good,” he mumbles. “You should be a Healer.”

“I don’t know about that,” you demur. “I rather like the idea of only doing this for you.”

Sebastian’s soft groan sounds like one of assent.

You channel magic through him for a few more moments until you notice that he finally feels less inflamed beneath your fingertips. Then you let the glow fade away until it’s just you and Sebastian, no more magic thrumming between where your bodies touch.

He’s quiet for several long moments and you wonder whether you might have simply magicked him to sleep.

“Bash?” you whisper. “Are you alright?”

All of a sudden, he’s remarkably alive beneath you. He cants one hip to tip you off of his back and onto the bed beside him, earning an annoyed huff out of you when you land on your rear. But before you can put the words together to protest, he’s parting your legs with his hands so he can settle between them and rucking up the jersey until he can see your bare core.

“You’re incredible,” he tells you earnestly. “I feel better than I have in months, love.”

“Th-that’s good,” you stutter, a bit bewildered.

He continues, “And I’m going to return the favor right this minute.”

You barely have time to blink before he’s kissing you breathless and rocking his hips against yours. You gasp sharply into his mouth and he swallows the sound, pressing his tongue against yours in that filthy way that he knows gets you soaking for him every single time he does it.

“Bash,” you whine. “Slow down a little.”

“Not a chance,” he says against your neck. “I want you, you made me need you.”

…Merlin, did you?

You try to focus while Sebastian stretches out the collar of his own jersey to suck claiming bruises along your collarbone. Did you overdo it on the healing spell? Possibly imbue him with a little too much “love?”

But then he confesses, “You’re irresistible in my clothes like this, d’you know that?”

You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize that that’s what’s got him so worked up. It’s you in his colors, his rumpled clothing with his damn name emblazoned on your back.

That quickly gives you an idea.

“Let me turn over,” you grunt as you try to squirm out from underneath him. “Sebastian, please.”

He looks thoroughly displeased when you sit up, so you placate him with one more filthy kiss before he won’t have access to your mouth for a while. Then you settle on your elbows and knees, jersey shoved up to the middle of your waist.

Sebastian says some foul words under his breath when he sees you arch and present yourself for him. You wish he’d just bury himself in you, patience and preparation be damned. Together the two of you have discovered that there’s a time and a place for slow, intimate lovemaking just as much as there is for desperate, urgent, feral fucking.

You know which one Sebastian is craving.

“Take me like this, Bash,” you say breathlessly. “So you can see whose name I carry.”

He leans over you and drags his hand across the “SALLOW” stitched in thick, white letters across the broadest part of the jersey’s shoulders. Then he lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a growl as he grinds his hips against yours.

“I need to be inside you,” he grunts. Behind you, you can hear him shoving his base layer down his thighs before he drags two fingertips along your slit and uses your wetness to stroke his cock. “I can’t be patient.”

“Don’t be,” you insist. You sway your hips invitingly and arch your back. “I’m ready.”

“You need my fingers,” he tells you. “I’ll give you enough, I won’t hurt you.”

You stun him by reaching a hand back and showing him how you can press two fingers against your entrance that easily sink inside. You moan softly at how different the angle is from how you usually touch yourself, but it works to get the point across to Sebastian.

“I’m ready,” you repeat. “I was waiting for you.”

Sebastian traces a thumb along your slit beside your fingers, pulling you open a bit to let himself look his fill as you spread your wetness around wantonly.

“Is this what you were doing while I was at practice?” he asks. “Laying in this bed in my clothes, playing with your pussy, and thinking of what I’d do to you when I got back?”

Now that’s a word he most certainly picked up from those Muggle books he likes to read, but it makes you squirm desperately nonetheless.

“Yes,” you whimper. “B-but I waited for you to finish.”

“That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “I suppose I’ll have to make sure you’re properly seen to, since you’ve been waiting so long.”

He presses his thumb against your entrance with your two fingers and when you can easily take it inside as well, he decides you’re indeed plenty ready for his cock instead. His gentle hand on your wrist coaxes you into pulling out, and then he lines himself up and starts to press inside.

You whimper his name as you collapse onto your elbows. He feels impossibly big like this, and despite your insistence that you were ready for him, it’s a toe-curling kind of stretch that has you panting and trembling beneath him while your body alternates between its animal instincts to rear back or submit.

“Good, you take me so well, love,” he groans. “How do you feel?”

In answer, you loudly groan into the pillow you’ve bunched up beneath you.

“Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself,” he says smugly. “Hold on tight for me, alright?”

After a few easy thrusts to ensure you’re properly braced for the full weight of him, Sebastian starts to relentlessly pound you down into the mattress. He supports you with his forearm wrapped beneath your hips and one broad hand pressing into your back – right below where his name is inscribed.

You’re fiercely loud in bed with him, but even when you’re whining and nearly sobbing for him, you can’t drown out the sound of his foul mouth.

“Take this cock,” he grunts. “Take it all, it’s what you wanted, right? For me to fill you up?”

“Yes!” you wail, knowing he expects an answer.

“That’s right,” he growls. “You want it all, I’ll give it all to you, always.”

He leans over your back and grinds in deep and you feel a twinge that isn’t entirely pleasure, but you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop – it’s too good, especially when it’s straddling the line of being too much.

“I’m gonna give you everything,” he confesses into your ear. “My seed, my name on your back, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Give it to me,” you slur. “Go on, Bash.”

“I will love, I will,” he grunts. “But I’m finishing you first.”

He keeps murmuring filth into your ear while he works a hand underneath you to rub quick, firm circles against your clit the way he knows you like. He talks about how sweet you are for him, how you’re the best thing he has, how he wants to keep you right here for as long as you’ll let him, but whether he means in this bed or in his arms you can’t possibly know.

He deftly works you to a breathtaking climax – quite literally you lose your breath, and he just keeps drawing it out with his eager fingers and his cock buried deep in you for so long that you wonder when it will ever stop. When it finally relents, you rest your cheek against the pillow and lie boneless, content to let Sebastian hold your hips up so he can work himself toward his finish.

“Want you to keep it all inside,” he says mindlessly. “Keep it in, keep my jersey on too, fuck–”

When he spills in you, he grinds his sensitive cock against your hips for as long as he can take it to make sure you stay full of his spend. Then when he pulls out, he tucks that damn jersey back down over your ass as if to make the claim, Our work here is done.

You lay exhausted on your stomach while Sebastian cozies up behind you. Within minutes of catching your breaths his stomach growls, so you know you won’t be there for much longer, but neither of you seems to be in any hurry to untangle yourself from the other.

Eventually, you have to ask him, “...So, ‘my name on your back,’ hmm?”

You expect him to blush and stammer, or start talking about how maybe, someday, when he feels like he’s satisfied some sort of redemptive goal that will make him feel like he deserves it, that could be a reality.

Instead, he kisses behind the hinge of your jaw and murmurs, “I meant it. Whenever you want it, it’s yours. Just say the word.”

“Fine, but if I get the name, I get to keep the jersey,” you sigh.

He buries his nose in your hair and happily mumbles, “I think we’ll have to negotiate that one.”

[hogwartslegacypics]

Sebastian practicing his flying skills for Quidditch!

[pheexblack]

Quidditch Jock Seb - rail me in the locker room plz

[rogalekk-k]

so....... quidditch uniform....

also still not used to drawing decent backgrounds don't come at me im begging

also if you want to see smth specific for me you can ask in comments :) i love drawing him but sometimes i lack ideas

[kerimcberry]

I have no doubt in my mind that Imelda and Sebastian would be talented Quidditch players, but I can see Everett jumping at any opportunity to mess with them 😂

If there is Quidditch in the next game (🤞🤞), it would be a crime not to let Everett (voiced by Luke Youngblood, who also portrayed Lee Jordan in the films) be the commentator!

[my-maehem]

Yo Yo Yo If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ma shut it for you Punk

[deathlysallows]

Quidditch Practice 🐍🏆