#what if F!MC traveled back in time
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it's a sign of the times
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fic#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian x mc#sebastian x reader#my fic#time travel#i tried to stick to time-turner lore as much as possible while completely retconning it#(future) dad!bastian
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Mainseries Pokemon characters who can be argued to be bisexual-coded (due to their implied crush on the player)
1. Shauna (Pokemon X and Y)
Kalos takes place in France, and Paris is the city of love. So, in the words of Junichi Masuda, "I wanted to implement some elements of romance with Shauna when playing as a boy and express a deep friendship when playing as a girl."
However, due to the VERY few dialogue changes between female vs male protags (as well as actions Shauna takes that are intended to imply romantic interest being the same across all player types, such as her staying behind with the player in the early-game forest), this can be argued to be unintentional bisexual-coding.
2. Lillie (Pokemon Sun and Moon)
Lillie is implied to have a crush on the player. When the player character is female, on Exeggutor Island, she says, "I want to become a Trainer, and learn all the things you know, Selene..." When the player character is male, she says, "I think... I'd like to become a Trainer, too. And travel together with you, Elio..."
Obviously, the difference between these two dialogues makes it pretty clear that they want her dialogue with Elio to be interpreted as more romantically-inclined. However, much like Shauna, Lillie's actions and dialogue varying VERY little otherwise between female vs male protags can be read as unintentional bisexual-coding.
3. Kieran
Kieran is the first character here to receive absolutely zero dialogue changes across player gender. Additionally, I'd say he's the character that we get the strongest hints regarding romantic feelings towards the player with.
Kieran has multiple moments where he's implied to feel romantically towards the player. These include, but are not limited to:
His sister saying that he's "been all googly-eyed over you" since you met, and that he "wouldn't stop talking about you - even at home. I seriously couldn't get him to shut up." Kieran reacts with embarrassment when she says this to the MC.
Him saying, "You're...you're special," before pausing, then getting embarrassed and rushing to change the subject.
When the MC calls him a friend, he responds, "What?! R-really?! We're friends? F-friends... I feel all tingly and funny hearing that... Ehehe..."
After the MC changes into their festival outfit, Kieran says, "Whoa...", when seeing them for the first time.
The player can even seemingly flirt with Kieran; when Kieran describes letting Ogerpon move into his home, the player can teasingly ask when they, themself, can move in with Kieran.
These are all very common romantic tropes. I think Kieran is the closest thing that we have to a canonically bisexual mainline character at this moment.
4. Carmine
Carmine has a fewer number of specific moments compared to her brother, but she can still be easily read as having feelings for the player.
Her extreme reaction to Drayton asking the player on a date is the best example, with her bringing her hands up to her face, and saying, "A wha-?!" Once Drayton leaves, Carmine continues fuming. (This can also be chalked up to her general dislike towards Drayton and how he can be manipulative, but the fact that it's that request that sets her off specifically makes this also easily read as jealousy.)
And speaking of...
5. Drayton
While, like Kieran and Carmine, Drayton doesn't have any dialogue changes between if the player is male and female, it's not really clear how he actually feels about them.
He tells the player, male or female, that they can go on a cafeteria date to talk, which the game fully acknowledges as a romantic phrase via Carmine's extreme reaction. He also tells the player, "From one charming catch to another..."
This is very obviously him flirting with the player, but, due to his laid-back and just-a-liiittle-bit-sleazy nature, this more so comes across as him trying to tease the player character, rather than anything earnest.
If nothing else, he's at least confirmed to be comfortable with romantically teasing male classmates, which I would consider a win.
#today on 'azure is bisexual and autistic with a special interest in pokemon (and plans to makes those facts everybody else's problem)'...#let me know if i forgot any details that might be relevant via my inbox!#pokemon#bisexual#bisexual characters#trainer lillie#trainer shauna#trainer kieran#trainer carmine#rival shauna#rival kieran#rival carmine#trainer drayton#elite four drayton#bi characters#bi safe#pokemon sun and moon#pokemon x and y#pokemon scarlet and violet#long post#azure does a thing
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headpats from little shrimpy!
Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining.
Summary: Floyd doesn't know if YOU know that merpeople show they're interested in each other with physical contact, but one head pat from you and he's lost all forms of self restraint. Oops!
Author's Comments: Okay as someone who is HEAVILY FIXATED on moray eels and knows too many things about them and how they interact with other morays (+ shrimp in mcs case) this is such a TREAT. I LOVE THIS. Granted it's not scientific at all but still. Cute.
~~~~~
It would have been such an unimportant action to anyone else.
Having a cute little Shrimpy pat you on the head as they passed by with the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else.
But it mattered to Floyd Leech.
It mattered a lot.
It mattered so much, in fact, that he froze in his chair and stared at your retreating back. Was it just his imagination, or were you walking faster? Jolting out of his seat, he made a run for you and prayed he’d catch you before you disappeared into Azul’s office.
Unfortunately, you made it. Boo. No fun.
Floyd pouted, jiggling the locked doorknob. Azul had a habit of locking it when he was in a meeting, and that’s exactly what he told Floyd after he told him to go away.
How unfair! His Shrimpy was in there!
Officially in a sour mood, Floyd went back to the booth he was sitting in and pouted. He’d just wait for you to come out and grill you with questions! Yeah, he could do that!
...
Floyd Leech could not do that.
He ended up pacing around the Mostro Lounge for a few hours, passing through the kitchen to talk to Jade before he got bored again.
“Did you see Shrimpy pass through here?” Floyd asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the seventh time, “I’ve been waiting for them but they haven’t come out of the VIP Room!”
“The Prefect? They left about ten minutes ago.” Jade hummed, focusing on his simmering cream of mushroom soup.
Floyd wrinkled his nose at the pot before darting away from the kitchen, intent on finding you before you escaped from him once again. You must have slipped out while he wasn’t looking! You couldn’t just pat his head and not say anything!
It wasn’t like you knew the implications, but physical touch was a way for merfolk to show that they were romantically interested in each other. Floyd felt his mood souring even more when he realized that you might have just done that to do it. It might have not even meant anything to you.
“Boo. Shrimpy better have meant it.” he huffed.
It was like the entire school could tell that Floyd was in a bad mood, because nobody dared to stop him as he ran through the halls. Riddle looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he ducked into a nearby classroom. Floyd didn’t have time to antagonize him right now, though—finding Shrimpy and asking them about their head pat was more important!
Before he knew it, Floyd was bursting through the Ramshackle gate and sprinting up to your front door. You weren’t anywhere to be seen on the front lawn, so Floyd hoped you were inside. If he had to look for you any longer he’d be grumpy for the next week.
“Shrimpyyyy!” he called out, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther, “Lemme in! I wanna talk to you!”
He heard loud thumping inside as you rushed down the stairs, the sound of the lock on the door jiggling making him bounce on the tips of his toes.
“Shrimpy!” he beamed, throwing his arms around you the second the door was open.
“Hi, Floyd.” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly as he leaned over you, crushing you against his chest.
“Hey, hey! Didja mean it? You better have meant it!” he pulled away only to shake you by the shoulders, “If you didn’t mean it I’m gonna be so upset!”
“Oh...Oh, that.” you mumbled, squirming in his hold, “I...You mean the head pat, right?”
“Yes!” he whined, shaking you harder, “Do you like me like that?!”
“Like what?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.
“Like you wanna date me!” Floyd huffed, finally letting you go.
He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes glued to your face in hopes of an answer. You felt your face heat up at the scrutiny, turning away so you didn’t have to look directly at him.
“Well...yeah.” you mumbled, “I asked Jade what I could do to, um...make you realize that I like you. And he told me that merpeople...really value physical contact? So I thought if I just gave you a head pat that might be good enough...? And I guess it was.”
“Awww, that’s so cute. You went to Jade for help?” Floyd laughed, the high pitched giggles easing your nerves just a bit, “Well lucky you, Shrimpy! I accept. Now come here.”
Floyd pulled you back into his chest and patted your head gently, and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace.
“Cute Shrimpy.” he giggled into your hair, squeezing you tightly, “I’m gonna squeeze you every day now!”
#auburn's fics <3#floyd leech x reader#floyd x reader#floyd leech is a silly guy#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#floyd fluff
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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader
wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!
synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?
a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO
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sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.
It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.
Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.
Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.
As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.
“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.
“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again.
“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position.
He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too.
You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”
“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”
You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face.
“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You had a plan.
A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.
Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.
You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.
Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.
You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet.
“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”
You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”
Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence.
When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”
You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”
Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”
“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.
“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”
“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”
“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle.
You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”
After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.
“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”
You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”
“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?”
You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”
Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip.
“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”
This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.
“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”
You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.
“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it.
You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward.
Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage.
You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”
It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”
“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest.
“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”
“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were.
“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”
You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”
“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”
“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”
“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”
Oh. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.
“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.
You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.
Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.
Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”
“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips.
You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.
You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.
Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet.
Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top.
He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”
You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”
Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?
You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”
“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“
“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.
Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”
With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.
He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?
“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”
Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”
“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.
“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”
He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”
At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.
“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”
You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”
“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”
You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”
“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”
You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind.
Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away.
Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.”
You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“
Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.
Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.
You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly.
“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“
Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”
You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”
“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”
He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.
Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.
“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding.
You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”
Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“
You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.
“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”
Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.
You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.
Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.
“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss.
You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.
“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.
“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”
“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.
Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.
“What are you-“
You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly.
“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”
Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued.
His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock.
“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.”
You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“
Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”
You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”
“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?”
You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”
Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.
“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“
“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.
“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered.
“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”
You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.
“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”
“Shit.” You agreed.
“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable.
“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”
Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.
“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.
Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.
“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”
“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”
Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”
“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“
You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.
You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held.
They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.
The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour.
Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.
“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”
“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”
“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”
“Huh?!”
Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”
“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”
Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”
“Yeah.”
He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”
Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”
“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”
“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”
“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”
“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”
Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?”
You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”
Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”
You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?
Wait.
You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying.
It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.
Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.
You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance.
“Are you ready, dear?”
You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”
Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”
You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration.
You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.
You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day.
She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.
The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly.
Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”
They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.
Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.
You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.
Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.
He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.
The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”
You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.
In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.
Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?
Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well.
“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”
Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…
Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.
This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”
Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”
You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.
Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.
Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”
You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash.
In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.
You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.
Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you.
Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.
Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.
You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-
The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”
“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort.
“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”
You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”
Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.”
“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas!
After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.
Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-”
You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth.
You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this.
Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”
You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss.
He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”
“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.
Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish.
Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.
“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”
“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”
“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.
“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”
You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”
Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.
When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife.
Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”
“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.
You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.
“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”
Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could.
Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.”
Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”
You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it.
“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“
You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”
Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”
“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs.
You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so.
With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out.
Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.
“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”
Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.
You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”
Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”
You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”
Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust.
His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"
"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.
“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.
All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”
You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.
"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.
“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“
You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.
Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin.
There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”
You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”
“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.”
“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”
“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”
You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.
You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.
You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-
Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.
You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.
The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes.
You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.
You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.
You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.
“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”
You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”
Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”
Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?
“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“
“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”
Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”
Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”
She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear.
You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.
You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.
This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.
Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.
You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.
“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.
“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”
You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.
You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”
“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”
You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”
“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”
“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”
“I’m in love with you.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Sebastian misses his girlfriend. The solution? Well, surprise her, of course! Alternatively, needy and greedy Sebastian.
✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), face-sitting, needy Sebastian and lots of cheesy dialogue.
2.6k words
[Read on Ao3] | [Read on Wattpad]
Sebastian Sallow is an idiot.
He knows he’s an idiot and it isn’t because his roommates Ominis and Garreth tells him so almost every day. No, it’s because only an idiot—a needy, madman in love—would apparate, uninvited to his girlfriend’s flat in Marseille in the middle of the night.
This is the first time since the start of his romantic relationship with Sloane that they’ve spent significant time apart. While he works his apprenticeship at Gringotts in London, she is in the south of France, researching with an elite group of herbologists. Wary of the split from the start, time and distance has made Sebastian unwell, to put it mildly.
His need for Sloane is a thrumming pulse in his veins, an ache that won’t subside no matter how he tries to distract himself. To say he misses her is an incredible understatement. The separation gnaws at him, a relentless hunger that only her presence can satiate.
When did he become so co-dependent—or has he always been this tethered to her?
The yearning threatens to turn him mad. With an address and her in mind, he slips through space and time itself, traveling over six-hundred miles in the blink of an eye. Sebastian can smell the ocean when he materializes with a pop on a dimly lit street, glancing from the parchment in his hand to the placard on the nearby building.
He is an idiot, he thinks to himself again as he climbs the stairs as quickly and quietly as he can until he’s staring at the bronze number 8 pinned to Sloane’s door. It takes him several moments to collect his thoughts, practicing what he might say when she opens the door—Merlin, he hopes she’ll open the door.
What time is it?
His first few knocks are far too gentle, not nearly loud enough for anyone to hear. Glancing at his surroundings as if he is being watched by some unseen force, he shuffles his feet and tries again, this time rapping his knuckles a little harder against the thick wood. Nearly a minute passes and he wonders how acceptable it would be to just break in when the door creaks open.
Sebastian forgets how to breathe.
There she is, standing in the doorway—Sloane, dressed in the tiniest chemise known to mankind. Barefoot and bleary-eyed, she doesn’t seem to comprehend his presence, lazily covering her mouth as she yawns. His restraint is threadbare, fingers twitching at his sides as he resists the urge to yank her into his embrace.
“Do you always answer the door half-naked, sweetheart?” he teases, flicking his gaze from one exposed patch of skin to the next.
“I was asleep—” she mumbles half-heartedly, and he grins when realization settles across her face. “Seb—Sebastian!?”
Fuck it.
He crosses the threshold, and Sloane barely has time to react as he plucks her up off the ground and into his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, soft hands framing his face as he kisses her like the greedy bastard he is. Sebastian kicks the door shut, relishing in the heat of her body against his. He kisses her until his lungs burn for air, pulling away just enough to alleviate the sting and look at her through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Where’s your bed?” he murmurs against her lips.
Sloane, in a surprised haze, take a moment to reply. “Down the hall.”
Sebastian steadily makes his way through the small dwelling until they reach her cozy bedroom, an organized mess of journals, potions, and plants. Her bed reminds him of the sleeping arrangements back at Hogwarts—large enough for one person, barely enough room for two. Good thing he doesn’t plan on sleeping.
Sloane lets out a breezy laugh as he flops her down on the mattress, her body stretched out for him to admire. He remains standing bedside, mirroring her delighted expression, thankful she didn’t have a negative reaction to his surprise. She watches him with sparkling eyes as he disrobes, haphazardly shedding his clothes until only his socks remain.
“Are you really here?” she asks as he shifts to hover over her, bracing his weight on his elbows. Her fingers trace the outline of his face again as if he is a figment of her imagination that might disappear.
“Yes,” he simply answers, momentarily slowing down to pepper her face with sweet kisses before trailing down the curve of her neck. She smells like fresh rain and lemon zest. “Have you been dreaming of me?”
Sloane’s coy smile and brilliant blush is enough of an answer. Her breath hitches as he nips the delicate skin above her collarbone. “But why are you here?”
“Isn’t it obvious, sweetheart?” Sebastian teases, a devious chuckle echoing against her ear. He pulls back just enough so their eyes can meet. “I missed you.”
She sighs, something between pleasure and amusement. “It’s been—”
“Three months,” he quips. “I know. But…being apart from you, Sloane…it’s harder than I ever imagined it to be.” He steals a quick peck, and then another. “Work keeps me busy, but when I go home in the evening and you’re not there, I find myself…lonely.”
“And I can’t very well go sneaking into Ominis’ room,” he comments with only a little sarcasm. “Well, I could, but I don’t think he’d appreciate me waking him up for a snuggle.”
“Is that what you call it?” Sloane’s nose scrunches up as she giggles. “You really came all the way here to…fuck?”
“Don’t say it like that!” Sebastian murmurs, hanging his head at the tickle of shame that churns his gut. The optics of his impromptu visit made him out to be an even bigger cad than usual. “Good grief, woman, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“It isn’t like I’m spending every waking hour of every day in a perpetual state of sexual frustration—”
“You aren’t?”
He blinks, realizing Sloane is teasing him. She smirks, leaning up to kiss him in the soft way that always calms his heart. “I missed you too, Sebastian.”
For several moments they simply kiss, languid and unhurried despite the circumstances. A small part of him regrets this impulsive decision, knowing his time in Marseille is limited—a few hours at most. Time will tell if he’s inadvertently added to his suffering when he has to leave, not knowing when they’ll see each other again.
“How long can you stay?” she asks when he breaks away to kiss down her neck and shoulder, as if she can read his mind. Instead of answering right away, he follows the low line of her negligée, her breath hitching when he tugs the fabric down with his teeth.
“I have an appointment at the Ministry in the morning,” he says, words mumbled as he sucks her exposed nipple into his mouth. Sloane moans and it is a sound he’s been yearning to hear. “But I can be…late.”
Sebastian shifts, lowering his body down as he pushes her nightgown up, bunching it beneath her breasts. He kisses across her abdomen, dipping his tongue into her navel and grinning when she squeaks at the ticklish sensation. Sloane lifts her hips when he tugs at the band of her underwear, making it easy for him to peel them away and toss over his shoulder to join the pile of discarded clothes on the floor.
It isn’t until Sebastian is about to make himself comfortable between her spread legs that he notices something…different. He falters, eyes darting up to see Sloane biting back a cheeky smirk. His gaze drops back down to the apex of her thighs, where instead of the soft blonde curls he’s used to seeing, there is only bare flesh.
A strangled chuckle escapes him. “What did you do?”
“I did as the French do,” she simply explains, clearly amused by his bewildered reaction. “One of the other researchers here, a girl my age, insisted on taking me shopping.”
“Is this what they call shopping in France?” Sebastian sarcastically remarks, slowly brushing his fingers across her now smooth skin. Whatever Sloane’s response was to be dies on her tongue as she whimpers, hips twitching towards his touch. Fuck—she’s so warm, and soft, and he suddenly can’t wait to taste her like this.
Just as he’s about to dip his head down, a wicked idea flashes through his mind, a fragment of a fantasy he’d constructed while alone in his bed with only his thoughts and his hand. He pulls away, delighting in the mewling whine that slips from her lips. She watches him with a confused expression as he stretches out next to her, his head comfortably resting on the pillows.
“Straddle me,” he says, rather plainly, flashing a wicked grin. “Sit on my face.”
Sloane’s eyes widen and for a moment Sebastian is worried that he’s scandalized her, but he can’t take it back now. He licks his lips, carefully observing his sweet girlfriend’s face as she mimics the action, clearly envisioning the act in her mind. The second she moves, his hands are on her waist, helping to position her body above his. Her knees press into the pillow on either side of his head, and when she glances down, he thinks she must be an angel sent to escort him to the afterlife.
She flashes a shaky, uncertain smile, “like this?”
Sebastian groans in satisfaction, the scent of her arousal dizzying, intoxicating. She’s barely situated when he darts his tongue out, tightening his grip around her hips to keep her steady. He licks a stripe through her folds, repeating the action in broad strokes as he lavishes her, unable to resist. The taste of her is something he wishes to bottle, to drown in later when he’s forced to depart.
He wraps his lips around her clit, eagerly sucking the bundle of nerves that makes her quiver. Sloane’s breath catches, a broken whine spilling from her panting mouth as she braces herself against the headboard. Her fingers grip the wooden frame and her head sags forward, eyes clenched tight as she succumbs to his fervor.
“Rock against me, love,” he instructs, a raspy request made against her inner thigh. Sloane complies in a heartbeat, brows furrowing together in concentration. Sebastian supports her, his fingers squeezing around her hips as he guides her movements against him. “That’s a good girl—fuck—you taste so good.”
He’s relentless in his desire, desperate to feel her come undone. He pushes his nose against her, nearly smothering himself as he probes her entrance with his tongue, grinning when she makes a high-pitched, satisfied sound. Sebastian groans in response, gripping her tighter as her thighs begin to tremble, her body tensing as he edges her ever closer to oblivion.
“Sebastian,” Sloane gasps out, her voice a strained whisper, a plea laced with the ecstasy he’s drawing out from her. She arches, head thrown back as her chest heaves with every ragged breath. Her rocking becomes more frantic, seeking out the sensations his wicked mouth is conjuring.
Seconds later she shatters, crying out his name in a broken moan that nearly sends him over the edge as well. Sebastian holds her through it all, his arms moving to wrap around her thighs and waist as she convulses against him. All the while his mouth never ceases its frenzy, coaxing out every tremor until she’s slumped against the headboard.
When she starts to teeter, he’s there to catch her, gently placing her against the pillows so she can catch her breath. Sebastian is equally winded, but the slight sting to his lungs is worth it to see such a fucked-out expression on her face. He rolls to frame her body with his own, slotting his hips between her thighs so he can press his aching cock against the slick mess he’s just created.
“Do you need a moment?” he asks, gruffly. He balances his weight on one arm, using his free hand to tenderly cradle the side of her face. Sloane shakes her head, flashing a breathless smile as she shifts to accommodate his eager arousal. She hooks her legs around him and he reaches between them to guide himself, easily sliding into the tight warmth of her core.
As soon as he is fully sheathed inside, Sebastian takes a moment to absorb the sensation, wishing he could stay with her—inside her—forever. His initial rhythm is slow and measured as he watches Sloane’s face, memorizing every flicker of pleasure, every sigh and crease that forms between her brows as she loses herself to the feeling. His pace gradually builds, intensifying with each stroke as the fire between them burns.
Sebastian gathers her hands in his free one, pinning them above her head as he shifts his weight to grind down, the angle allowing him to slip deeper. Sloane responds with a litany of moans, her back arching up to meet each roll of his hips. Eventually his thrusts grow more insistent, more demanding as he craves to see her climax once more. Her legs sinch around his waist and her walls clench around him, urging him on, silently begging for the release that is so, so close.
He captures her lips in a searing kiss, both hungry and panting as the end draws near. Sebastian grunts as he ruts against her, completely losing control as her entire body shudders and tenses with the wave of her orgasm. His own builds at the base of his spine, a heat that threatens to consume him—and he might just let it. Before he can fully realize it, he’s spilling into her depths, the two crying out in tandem ecstasy.
The next coherent thought Sebastian has is when he’s blinking up at the ceiling, his heart still pounding in his ears from the intensity of their coupling. He attempts to steady his breathing, but it’s a lost cause. Instead, he turns his head to find Sloane in a similar state on her back, a content smile curling her lips in an adorable way.
She lazily glances at him and sighs. “I missed you.”
He nearly ruins the moment with a crass joke about her missing his cock, but decides that saying something earnest is better.
“I miss you every day, Sloane. And I can’t wait for you to come home,” he says, reaching over to delicately trace the curve of her cheek with his fingers. “Well, wherever you want to call home, that is. I don’t suppose you’d want to live in a tiny London flat with two other men–”
He stops when he realizes he’s rambling.
“Anyways…” he sighs, brushing through her hair. “I am ready to spend every night like this.”
“Every night?”
“Yes,” he quickly replies. “And morning. And afternoon. Every minute we can spare.”
Sloane smiles, and for several minutes they simply exist, gazing into each other’s eyes as the present and future looms. She exhales, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that he doesn’t want to see. “Are you sure you have to leave?”
“Are you sure you have to stay?” he counters, though he knows it would be unfair to ask her to come back to London. He attempts a tease, “you know, you could come visit me.”
“I could,” she agrees with a nod, though her tone indicates she’s skeptical. “But I don’t have roommates. Ominis may be blind, but he doesn’t need to hear us—”
“Nothing he hasn’t heard before,” Sebastian murmurs, earning him a playful pinch. He sighs, closing the distance for a moment to kiss her, knowing their time is running out. “We’ve always been resourceful, sweetheart. We’d find a way to be together.”
The levity gradually melts into a content silence, Sloane scooting to nuzzle against his side with her head on his chest. Sebastian wraps his arms around her, his hands slowly caressing up and down her back until he can sense she’s drifted to sleep.
He’ll stay, just for a little bit longer.
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow fanfic#sebastian sallow x f!mc#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow smut
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The Night Shift
AO3 Link
Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC
Word Count: 10,206
Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)
Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.
A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???
Night One
“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.
You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties. You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.
“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages. Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons. Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded. So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.
With few exceptions.
But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day. You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching. It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people. You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.
Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.
“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.
“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”
There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”
“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”
“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”
“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”
“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose. “And very few days off.”
“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.
Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch. I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”
You swallow thickly. It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow. At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another. You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.
“Oi, Larson! Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.”
Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit. He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.
You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion. Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel. He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.
“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”
Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice. It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out. And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years. The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.
No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work. You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.
Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”
The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.
There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly.
You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine. It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”
She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her. “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”
“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.
“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
You’re doing fine, you think. You’re at the top of your field. You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you. The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.
A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.
“I’m happy. Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”
You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom. It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital. It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.
Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes. Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains. Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline. Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward. Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.
The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames. A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth. There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information.
“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful. Lost a few–even more are bleeding. It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”
“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them. Can someone bring me a coffee?”
He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.
You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name. Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain. And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.
Before you even realize it, you’re running to them. The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.
Sebastian looks awful.
Correction–Sebastian looks dead.
“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”
“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects. His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”
“Move,” you urge the two of them. They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.
Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love. You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.
“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath. The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.
You let out the blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.
To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised. Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year. You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars.
“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”
You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting. He’d be thankful now that you did.
“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”
You don’t want to. Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest. You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.
There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut. The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.
“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later. In the meantime, there are others.”
Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.
“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”
“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.
Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done. From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included). Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital. But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them. Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring. They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.
After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened. You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.
You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.
But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.
“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you.
You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest.
Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.
Night Two
You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied. Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.
“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps. She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”
“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.
“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.”
You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.
“How is Sallow? The patient in 213.”
She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you. Do you know him?”
You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.
After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door. It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.
“Come in!”
Shit.
You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you. He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.
“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”
“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”
“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns.
You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”
“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”
You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”
He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”
“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”
He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really? I’ve lost five damn years in my head? What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.” Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.
“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed. Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.
His smile fades. “What?”
“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie. Was it a lie? You honestly can’t remember.
“I would never,” Sebastian bites back. “I would never break up with you.”
“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay. We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”
“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?”
You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water. Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.
“Here, drink this. You’ll feel much better,” you assure him.
Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes. He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere. But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period. It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.
Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body. With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him. The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso. Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.
You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.
The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy. He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room. You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.
That had been two years ago. You wonder what’s changed since then.
Night Three
Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered. Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.
There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off. His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union. You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.
Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you. You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.
You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”
“Anne,” you sigh into her touch. Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her. She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here? It’s so late.”
“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”
“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”
Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”
You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”
Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you. I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.
You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth. That we ended amicably. That we were fine.”
“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.
It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt. Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde. It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.
“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.
“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”
You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact? Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.
That’s a question for another time, you decide.
“It’s late, you two should be getting home. Visitor hours are over.” you remind them.
“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”
You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry. I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”
“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours. I decide whose side I’m on.”
Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks. Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart.
After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave. You’re finally able to start your rounds. Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward. Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week. Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.
Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in. Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep. He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.
“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.
“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”
“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart. Nothing particularly new, and no memories back. He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies. It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.
“Open your shirt, please.”
Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”
You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”
Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell. A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops. You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.
Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving.
“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”
“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.”
You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”
“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”
You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian. Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”
“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me. Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”
You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.
Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that. I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”
“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again. You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably. One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.
“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”
“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.”
That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.
The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.
“You’re engaged,” he croaks.
“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely. You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.
Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles. It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child. It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.
“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”
Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.
But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.
The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully. Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning. Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean. It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.
Night Four
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.
“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound. You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue. His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.
“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”
You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”
“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me. I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”
“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.
“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.
“I’m sorry for that. I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.
“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve. Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.
“I see you had quite a few visitors today.”
Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”
“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him). “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”
There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.
“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”
You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument. “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer. It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters. You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.
“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”
You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl.
“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it. She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”
You blink at him. He seems completely unbothered.
“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”
Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me. Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”
You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian. You’ve probably been dating a while.”
“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”
“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.
“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else. Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”
You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.
“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”
“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him.
Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”
“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind. Only ever thought about myself, my career.”
“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”
You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”
“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”
“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable.
Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”
You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”
“Nice. That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”
“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.
“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”
“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”
“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.
“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.
Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.”
“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”
“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold. I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.
“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”
Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?”
“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”
Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies. You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.
“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).
“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron. When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man. He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.
“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles.
You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face. The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful. Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable. And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore. In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.
“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”
Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen. He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights.
You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight. You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname. And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.
Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.
Night Five
Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room. But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.
The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you. At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes.
“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily.
You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”
“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”
You stride over, running your hands over them. Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars. They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.
“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”
Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”
“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.
“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart. I want the details.”
You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.
“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.
“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”
“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.
“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure. That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.
“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”
“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.
“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”
“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have. You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”
“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”
“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”
“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”
“I didn’t know that. So I packed my things and left.”
The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back. After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted. Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love. He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley. Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.
“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.
“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror. A damn good one. The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.
“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others. I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.
“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”
“I was talking to Clopton about you. We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks.
“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement. A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it. But it feels right rolling off your tongue.
“Everett said something about you being engaged. It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight. And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.
“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.
“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay. That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly. “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”
“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him.
“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t. And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.
“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him. From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.
Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.
“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”
“Why?” you ask.
“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger. And that’s good–it’s good for us now. It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.
“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”
“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy. I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”
You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man. That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you. But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.
“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly. You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”
“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”
“You ran away.” You remind him.
“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love. You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”
“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest. I’ll leave you be.”
He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together. The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy. Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.
“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.
“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”
Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat. Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.
It would be insane.
You haven’t talked in five years.
He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.
He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.
Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration. At least he was when you were younger. Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even. The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.
Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.
Don’t marry him.
The words replay in your mind. It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years. That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.
It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.
Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.
Night Six
It has been a long, long day.
What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened. That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself.
You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.
You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room. You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion. Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.
When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual. Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.
This is it. This is the start of the rest of your life.
You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed. It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.
“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.
They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”
You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”
“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”
“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red. You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”
They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”
You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan. There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives. The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.
Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.
Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings. You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.
The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs. Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included. Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.
“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group.
“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”
“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head.
“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”
“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin. He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”
“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.
“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”
“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.
“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”
You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon. For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door. Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub. Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.
Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers. You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one. Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker. It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.
It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.
“You’re here,” she breathes.
“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”
“Can I come in?” you ask.
Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”
You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room. He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).
Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night. He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”
“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”
“Shut up.”
Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”
You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life.
“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.
“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him. I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life. He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”
You have been too, you think.
“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.
“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”
You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs. The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk. Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.
Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face. He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.
“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”
You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.” You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin. The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine. You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.
“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.
“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”
“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done. That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.
“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”
“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.
“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”
“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”
“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.
“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.
“Let’s try again.” you whisper.
Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you. You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place.
“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips. It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years. You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer. His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.
“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”
“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”
You have, you think. So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving. You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body. He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest. Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past. But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.
The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”
You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week. And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x anne sallow#Auror Sebastian#Auror Sebastian Sallow#hogwarts legacy fan fiction#writing-intheundercroft#this one got a little out of hand#should I write a smutty part two?????
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Christmas at Home
Part 2 of I'll Be Home For Christmas (link)
Relationship: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Summary: Ten years later, MC has a home, a family, and a husband. What does a traditional Christmas look like for her now?
Word Count: ~6.4k
Warnings: Tooth rotting Christmas fluff 🎅🎄
Author's Note: Requested by @mochiglow . Plus I wanted to write one last Christmas story before the end of the year (yes, once again, I had to rush to get the story out in time).
As always, I hope you'll enjoy it! And I wish you lots of love for the year ahead💕
The room was shrouded in the soft glow of dawn, and MC found herself caught in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness. Tossing and turning, her mind danced on the edge of dreams and reality, a swirl of thoughts and anxieties tugging at her subconscious. The weight of the night seemed to lift when, in that vulnerable moment, she inhaled a familiar scent that wrapped around her like a comforting embrace—Sebastian’s scent.
MC's senses gradually anchored to the reassuring fragrance that enveloped her. With a sigh, she opened her eyes to be met with her husband's naked torso. She had been waking up to the same sight for ten years to the day, ever since that memorable Christmas when they had met by sheer happenstance, and ended up confessing their feelings for each other. After leaving Anne and Ominis's house after dinner, MC had gone back to sleep at Sebastian's house in Hogsmeade, and that time, they had slept together in the same bed. From that day on, the two lovebirds had never left each other's side. MC had immediately moved in with Sebastian, having nowhere else to go after leading a nomadic and adventurous life. Sebastian had supported her every step of the way, helping her to find a job and to buy more possessions than what was in her suitcase (because she did in fact travel light).
In short, Sebastian had been the most incredible boyfriend, the most loving and patient partner, as well as the most reliable and unconditional support.
Thank Merlin he had been there to help MC get used to her new life of routine, because it had not been easy every day. Still, she was grateful to have overcome all these trials and tribulations, and especially to have done so alongside Sebastian, because it had brought her to the present moment. For ten years, she had had the privilege of waking up surrounded by the strong arms of the man she cherished more than anything else in the world, and witnessing the marks of time embedding into him: how his beard was fuller than before, how the patch of hair on his chest had widened and darkened, how his shoulders had broadened. But if there was one thing that remained unchanged, it was how madly in love Sebastian was with MC, and how he never failed to prove it to her.
Drawing solace from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, MC shifted closer to him – if that was even possible – seeking even more contact with his warmth, which, as always, miraculously succeeded in making all her nervousness vanish.
As if attuned to her restlessness, Sebastian stirred awake and instinctively tightened his hold around her petite figure.
“You’re up early.” Sebastian said with his husky morning voice, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
“I didn't sleep very well.” MC admitted while bringing her hands up to rest on his chest.
He placed a delicate kiss to her forehead, before looking at her, his gaze tender and filled with a quiet understanding, “I know you. You're stressing about today because you want everything to be perfect.”
“That must be it, yes…” She replied absently, mindlessly tracing the freckles that adorned his collarbones.
MC was not sure how, but the whole family had decided that for the first time, the Christmas festivities would be held at MC and Sebastian's house, instead of at Anne and Ominis' in Feldcroft as in all the other years.
“You don't have to worry, you know. We're not asking you to make a big feast. Besides, whatever you prepare, I know it'll be brilliant.” Sebastian continued to try and reassure her, still flashing his radiant smile.
MC made no response. Instead, she preferred to nestle her head in the crook of his neck and place tender kisses along his skin, moving her lips as slowly as possible to fully appreciate the taste of him. Fortunately, Sebastian did not question why his wife was being particularly cuddly this morning. He simply tightened his grip on her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh through her satin nightdress, while his other hand moved down her thigh to trace invisible shapes and caress her skin.
“I love you, Sebastian.” She declared all too solemnly.
He chuckled at her confession, which came out of nowhere, but which he never tired of hearing, “I love you too, darling.”
After all these years together, Sebastian still marvelled at how the soft contours of their bodies moulded perfectly into one another, as if they had truly been made for each other down to the very last detail. Limbs entwined and hearts beating in unison, they both revelled in each other's quiet, yet soothing presence… That was until Sebastian could no longer resist his ardour.
With two fingers under her chin, he tilted MC's face until their eyes met. Without wasting a second, Sebastian claimed her plump lips, kissing her languorously, all the while taking his time, as if he were discovering her for the first time. The way he sucked and nibbled her lips with fervour made MC realise that he was hungry for more than just breakfast.
MC let out several keen moans, which fuelled Sebastian's passion. He could not stop running his hands over every inch of her body, his electric touch setting her skin on fire. Sebastian's next move would have been to roll on top of his wife to pin her to the mattress... if only he had not been stopped short by the creak of their bedroom door being opened, followed by the patter of little feet.
Sebastian let out a deep growl and fell back onto his side of the bed, while MC giggled at his reaction.
"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up, it's Christmas!" Their son, Theodore, exclaimed with uncontainable excitement, like a burst of energy dispelling the lingering tranquillity. Sebastian and MC, still wrapped in the warmth of each other, exchanged a fond smile.
Oblivious to the interrupted moment, the five-year-old clambered onto the bed with a gleeful grin, and squeezed himself between his parents, joining their intertwined embrace.
“I can't wait for Father Christmas to come! I told him I want a big dragon this year!” Their son's voice bubbled with the magic of the holiday.
MC exchanged a glance with Sebastian, amused by their son's earnest Christmas wish, "A dragon, huh?" She teased. "That's a pretty big request, Theo. Are you sure you have enough space for a dragon in your room?"
Theo’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the logistics, "Well, maybe a baby dragon? They're smaller, right?"
Sebastian chuckled, "We'll see what Santa can do, buddy.”
“Can we send him a letter to ask him to come sooner?” Theo asked eagerly.
Sebastian ruffled his son's unruly chestnut hair – the same one as him, “Easy there, little elf. You know he only comes once the whole family is together. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair on Aunt Anne and Uncle Ominis. They wanna see him too.”
The child pouted, understanding his father's answer, but clearly dissatisfied with it all the same.
MC took her child in her arms and stood up, "Come on, young man. Let's get out of bed, and eat breakfast first. Then we’ll get ready, and I promise you won’t see time go by."
The family descended the stairs into the living room, which was bathed in Christmas atmosphere, with the tremendous tree shining brightly, the stockings hanging on the mantelpiece, and the dining table adorned with festive decorations, ready to welcome guests for a feast.
Luckily for MC, Theo was a real glutton like his father, so it was not difficult to convince him to eat. Nevertheless, like his mother this time, he was a real chatterbox. While they were all eating, Theo could not stop talking about the potential presents he was going to get. Overwhelmed with excitement, he kept chattering away, often with his mouth full, and MC had to remind him several times that this was impolite.
After breakfast, the family retreated to their respective corners of the house to get dressed in their festive best for the special occasion. Sebastian, who had quickly put on his outfit, went to help his son put on his Christmas attire which consisted of a green tartan shirt, red trousers with braces and a matching bow tie.
Meanwhile, MC put on a little make-up and slipped on her black velvet dress which had a V-neckline bordered by lace that matched the one decorating the cuffs of its long sleeves. The bust was fitted at the waist, and the skirt was flowing but still close enough to the body to outline the graceful curves of MC's body.
Sebastian appeared suddenly, and hugged MC from behind, making her jump slightly, “You’re gorgeous as always, my love. You never fail to take my breath away.”
MC turned around to take a look at him, clad in black trousers and shirt, with only a forest green tie for a touch of colour. It was rather simple but it always seemed to do the trick to make MC weak in the knees. Especially when he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms, with freckles scattered among the hair, and veins bulging out of his tanned skin.
She devoured him with her eyes, a smirk plastered on her lips, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself, you know.”
His hands started from between her shoulder blades, then travelled down her body, exploring the small of her back, the curves of her hips, until they landed on the soft pulp of her ass. He let out a throaty growl, “Merlin, I never get tired of this dress. I love the way it shows off your hips. Makes me wanna rip it right off to see the real deal underneath.”
Ashamed that he still managed to make her blush like a shy schoolgirl after so many years of marriage, MC pushed him away and turned her head to hide the scarlet tint in her cheekbones, “Keep your hands to yourself, Mister.”
“Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Let's just carry on with what we started earlier, while we can.” Sebastian whimpered as he tried to catch her.
Any protestations about having a lot on her plate and a meal to prepare, died on the tip of MC's tongue, as Sebastian snaked his hands around her waist, tracing his fingers down to her private parts. Even through her layers of clothing, his experienced touch was enough to ignite a passionate fire that warmed her core.
It would have been fun to keep going... if only they had not been interrupted by a sudden piercing scream coming from the living room.
Fear gripped both MC and Sebastian’s hearts as they raced downstairs, the staircase resounding with the loud thump of their hurried footsteps. The living room came into view, and their eyes immediately sought out their son, dreading that something had happened to him.
To their relief, he stood near the window, his face pressed against the glass, and his excitement turned the initial scream into joyful laughter, "Mummy, Daddy, look! It's snowing! It's really snowing!" He exclaimed, pointing at the delicate flakes dancing in the winter air.
Relief washed over MC and Sebastian when they saw that nothing serious had happened. However, their respite was short-lived, because the next moment, Theo was throwing a tantrum to be allowed to play outside.
Unable to resist his son's demands and desires, Sebastian, bundled up in a warm winter coat, led Theo out into the garden where a pristine blanket of snow awaited. Laughter echoed through the quiet air as father and son dove into the wintry playground, crafting a snowman with gleeful enthusiasm. The garden became a canvas for their snowy adventures, a scene of joyous bonding and shared laughter.
From the cozy warmth of the kitchen, MC observed the heartwarming spectacle unfolding outside. As she chopped vegetables and tended to the simmering pots, her gaze lingered on the snowy tableau framed by the window. The sight of Sebastian and Theo engaged in a spirited snowball fight filled her with gratitude. She marvelled at the twists of fate that had brought them here, realizing that, had they not moved in this house in Marunweem, this idyllic scene might have remained an unfulfilled wish.
MC and Sebastian's Hogsmeade cottage had rapidly become too cramped when ideas of marriage and children began to blossom in their minds. So, two Christmases later, Sebastian surprised MC with the house of her dreams in the hamlet of Marunweem. That evening, after showing her around the first floor with its many bedrooms that would accommodate possible guests or their future children, the vast living room with its welcoming fireplace, and the light-filled kitchen, Sebastian took MC out into the garden to admire the remarkable view over the lake of Marunweem. And when MC turned to thank her boyfriend, he was down on one knee, asking her to have him for the rest of his life, in the middle of the garden where they got married the following summer.
MC had just finished preparing Christmas dinner, a smile playing on her lips as she soaked in the warmth of the kitchen and the beauty of the snowy tableau outside, when an unexpected wave of dizziness swept over her, leaving her momentarily disoriented. The room seemed to sway, and she felt a sudden need to sit down. Lowering herself to the kitchen floor, she steadied her breath, attempting to shake off the unsettling sensation. In the midst of her momentary weakness, the world outside the window transformed into a blurred mosaic.
Sebastian, engaged in snowy merriment with Theo, glanced back toward the house. When he no longer saw MC at the window, a subtle dismay overcame him. Instinctively, he grabbed his son in his arms and rushed back inside, his heart pounding with worry.
Finding MC on the kitchen floor, Sebastian hurried to get their son out of the room, lest he too worry about his mother and start crying.
"Go take off your coat and shoes, and stay in the living room, little lad. I'll join you right after."
"Yes, Daddy."
Once Theo had gone, Sebastian knelt beside his wife, concern etched on his face, "Darling, what happened? Are you okay?"
With a reassuring smile, MC nodded, “I'm fine, just a dizzy spell. But it's gone now.”
Obviously, her words did not get through his thick skull, and failed to reassure him, because Sebastian was still visibly worried, “Come on, hold on to me. I'll take you to rest on the sofa.”
Before she could protest, Sebastian slipped one hand under her knees, and used the other to support her back as he lifted her off the ground and carried her bridal style. In order not to fall, MC had no choice but to lean fully against his chest (not that she was complaining, since she even took the opportunity to rest her head against his shoulder and get a whiff of his strong cologne).
Sebastian then tightened his embrace around her, making sure she was safe and secure in his arms. MC was by no means surprised by how overprotective he was with her. He had always acted that way with her, even when they were mere friends at Hogwarts, so she knew that it was not after so many years that he was going to start changing.
As promised, he carried her into the living room, where their son was settled at the coffee table while drawing, and deposited her on the plush sofa with the utmost delicacy, as if she were the most fragile and valuable treasure in the world, threatening to shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest breeze, “There you go. And I don't want you to move from here. You'll only be allowed to get up and sit at the table when dinner starts.”
“Seb, I'm not made of glass.” MC tried to argue.
“No, but you're tired. You didn't sleep well last night, you shouldn't have been cooking on your feet all morning.” He replied, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and genuine care. “You should have asked me to help you, I could have prepared the meal.”
An amused scoff escaped MC, “Sure.”
“What? I’m not that bad at cooking.” Sebastian took on a false air of offence.
MC only stared at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to face what they both knew to be the truth.
Sebastian sighed, before letting out a light chuckle, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a bloody menace in the kitchen.”
MC joined in his laughter, when a knock resounded at the front door, signalling the arrival of their guests. MC, instinctively moving to rise and greet them, felt Sebastian's firm hand gently but decisively press on her shoulder, urging her to stay seated.
"What did I tell you? Don’t you even dare think about standing up." He sternly ordered her. Concern etched his features as he looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to prioritise her well-being.
Sebastian then rose to answer the door. Their friends, adorned in festive attire, entered with smiles that instantly brightened the room. MC, who was still seating in the living room, could hear greetings and laughter from afar. After giving them all a hug, Sebastian directed his gaze towards his wife, giving her a knowing look. MC nodded to let him know she understood, then watched him slip away discreetly upstairs, when she was startled by a bundle of vigour hurtling towards her.
"Aunt MC!" Anne and Ominis' daughter shouted. MC had not seen her since the first of September, when she and the rest of the family had accompanied the little girl to Hogwarts for her first year there. With two Slytherin parents, and Salazar Slytherin's blood in her veins, she had been sorted into the green house with no surprises.
“Estelle, Merlin's beard! You look stunning!” MC took the little girl in her arms and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her. “Give me a twirl, so I can see your beautiful dress.”
Estelle did as she was told, showing off her knee-length blue and white windowpane dress, which had a white Claudine collar and ruffles at the bottom of the skirt.
“My, my!” MC exclaimed while admiring her niece. “All the boys at Hogwarts must be pursuing you.”
“I've got a friend. His name is Henry… I think he's cute.” The girl admitted shyly.
“Promise to tell me everything later?” MC asked, extending her pinkie finger towards her.
Estelle nodded eagerly, holding out her own little finger to seal the promise.
With that done, MC turned to her son, who had yet to notice the presence of guests, so engrossed was he in his colouring, “Theo, have you seen who's arrived?”
“Auntie and Unkie!” The boy abruptly dropped his crayons and ran towards them at full speed.
“My favourite nephew!” Anne lifted him up and took him in her arms. “Say, you've grown up again! You'll soon be taller than me!”
As for Ominis, he approached the sofa to lean over his friend, “So, MC, are we not worthy enough for you to get up and say hello to us?”
“Healer Sebastian put me on sofa rest.” She joked to play down the situation. “I had a dizzy spell earlier, and you know what he's like: always worrying about nothing.”
Before Ominis could respond, Theo climbed onto his mother's lap, “Mummy! Mummy! Now that Auntie, and Unkie, and Estelle are here, is Father Christmas coming?”
“Oh well, I reckon he won't be long now.”
On cue, another knock resounded at the door.
“Maybe that's him!”
Her lady-of-the-house reflexes took hold of MC, who was on her feet in an instant to open the door. On the other side, white-haired Father Christmas was waiting on the porch, wearing his red coat and hat trimmed with white fur.
“Theo, look who's here!” MC summoned her son.
Only the young boy’s loud gasp was heard in the room, his face lighting up with delight at the unexpected arrival of Father Christmas himself, carrying a sack full of presents, and displaying a wide smile beneath the snowy white beard.
"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Father Christmas – or rather Sebastian transfigured into an impressively convincing version of him – exclaimed heartily. "Are there any children who are on the nice list in this house?"
Theo, eyes wide with excitement, approached Father Christmas eagerly. "Me! Father Christmas, I've been really good this year! I even ate all my vegetables!" he declared proudly.
Sebastian chuckled with a deep, jolly voice, and handed him two enormous gifts, "That's excellent, Theo! Keep up the good work, my young friend."
Wide-eyed with wonder, Theo opened his presents in record time. Inside the first was a giant stuffed Common Welsh Green dragon, and inside the second was a small broom suitable for a five-year-old, with a note saying 'Since you can't fly on your dragon'.
The cuddly toy had been MC's idea, as dragons were something Theo talked about all year round, while the broomstick had been Sebastian's idea, as he hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and join his future house's Quidditch team once he got to Hogwarts. They all watched as the young boy was thrilled by his two gifts. He smiled and laughed, unable to contain his excitement. Theo's joy was contagious.
This encouraged Sebastian to continue to distribute gifts, "Estelle, sweetie! My elves have told me nothing but good things about you this year! I've heard that your first year at Hogwarts is going wonderfully well, and that you have a particular interest in Potions. I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you, Father Christmas." Estelle played along for her young cousin's sake, even though she knew perfectly well that it was her uncle underneath the red and white suit.
In turn, Estelle received a large gift containing a set of cauldrons of different metals and sizes, as well as two smaller packages containing numerous ingredients, and manuals containing various potion recipes. It was the perfect apprentice potioneer's kit.
"I still don't know where she got her love of potions from. Certainly not from me." Ominis mumbled under his breath, making Anne laugh.
Father Christmas continued the merry gift-giving for the other guests, taking his role to heart and revelling in the joyous atmosphere. But Sebastian being Sebastian, he could not resist a playful aside to his wife, who was watching the festive scene unfold, "I've heard from your husband you've been a naughty girl. You didn’t stay seated like he told you."
MC took great pleasure in playing along with him, "My husband doesn't know what he's talking about. He just worries too much."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his wife through his little round Father Christmas glasses, "Now, that's not something a good girl would say about her husband, is it?"
"I'll make it up to him tonight. I promise I'll be a really good girl." She smirked, the hint of mischief in her eyes obvious.
Even through his thick white curly beard, MC could see his Adam's apple bobbing heavily. It took Sebastian a moment to get back into character, "Will you? Well, in that case, I think Father Christmas has a special gift for you too, my dear."
With a theatrical flourish, he presented her a beautifully wrapped box. Curiosity sparkled in MC's eyes as she accepted the gift. She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a snowflake, each branch encrusted with small diamonds which sparkled brightly in the festive lights.
"I thought it would be a fitting reminder of all the magical Christmas moments we've shared together over the years." Sebastian explained in a whisper.
Touched by the thoughtful gesture, MC smiled warmly at Sebastian, "Thank you, Father Christmas. It’s perfect.”
“There's another surprise underneath to go with it.”
MC realised that the box did indeed have a false bottom. She lifted it and was surprised to find a set of arctic blue lingerie, entirely see-through apart from a lace flake to cover the most intimate areas.
She quickly closed the box to avoid anyone seeing, and shook her head, although she could not wipe the big amused grin off her face, "You're incorrigible. Now go and change yourself back before your son notices you're not here."
“Yes, ma’am.”
After explaining that he had other families to visit, Father Christmas said goodbye to everyone, especially to young Theo, who was the happiest to see him. MC claimed that she was going to see him to the door, but in fact followed him outside.
MC closed the door behind her, and stepped out into the winter cold, “Your transfiguration was extremely impressive. You're getting better at it every year.”
“I'm glad you liked it.” Sebastian smiled.
She took a step towards him and rested her hands on his chest. It was bizarre that he was so much chubbier than usual. Even if she knew it was him, it did not feel like her husband, “I didn't like it as much as my present. Thank you very much, truly.”
“If you wanna thank me, you can wear your present tonight and keep your promise.” He winked at her.
MC stood on her tiptoes and planted a tender kiss on her husband's lips, still transfigured as Father Christmas. Even though she was used to feeling his usual beard against her skin when she kissed him daily, she was still tickled by his new thick, greying moustache. But that did not make the kiss unpleasant, on the contrary. Proof of this was that they continued kissing until they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway.
“You're lucky it was me who saw you, and not Theo. He would have been traumatised. Anyway, I came to tell you to hurry back. If you take too long, Theo will suspect something, even if he's ecstatic about his dragon.” Estelle admonished them before returning to the living room as quickly as she had come.
Sebastian was rendered speechless for a moment, “…Did you also feel like it was Ominis talking?”
“Yup, this kid's really becoming too much like her father... but she's right though.” MC took out her wand and tapped Sebastian on the shoulder with the tip. In the blink of an eye, he was back to his normal appearance and attire. “You're more handsome this way. Come on, let's get back inside.”
No sooner had they returned to the living room than Theo ran to his father and wrapped his arms around his leg.
“Daddy! Have you seen Father Christmas? He was so nice!”
“Of course, he was.” Sebastian replied with amusement at how oblivious his son was. He had been so enthralled by Father Christmas and his presents, that he had not even noticed that his father had been absent for several long minutes.
“Honey.” MC called out to him, instantly drawing his attention. “I also have a gift for you.”
She handed him a carefully wrapped package, adorned with a ribbon that matched the holiday décor, to which was attached a label with 'For the man who makes every Christmas magical' beautifully handwritten on it.
His curiosity piqued, Sebastian eagerly unwrapped the present. Revealed within a long black Auror uniform robe. He already had plenty, so he could not really understand why his wife was gifting him with another one.
“I've upgraded it with Kneazle fur and Diricawl feathers so that it has multiple Protection Charms. It also enhances the power of your spells to increase the damage you inflict on your opponents. Normally, nothing can happen to you with this!” MC announced cheerfully.
Sebastian's eyes met hers, and in that shared gaze, he recognised the depth of the sentiment behind the thoughtful gift, “Someone's worrying about me.”
“Of course I worry about you! You’re the most competent Auror there is, so they put you on all the most dangerous cases, and it's going to be even worse now that you've been promoted to Head of the Auror Office.” MC grumbled, seeming somewhat offended by Sebastian's reaction to her gift.
He hurried to take her in his arms and place a kiss on the top of her head, which seemed to be sufficient to calm her down, “I’m only teasing you, love. I love it, and I'll wear it every time I go on a mission. It’s perfect, just like you.”
The festive glow lingered as MC, Sebastian, and the rest of the family continued to revel in the warmth of the holiday spirit. The exchange of gifts had created an atmosphere of shared joy, and as the afternoon unfolded, they transitioned to the dining table, where an array of delectable dishes prepared by MC awaited. Laughter and conversation intertwined with the clinking of glasses and the clatter of cutlery against plate.
As the clock ticked on, Anne, Ominis and Estelle, reluctant to bid farewell to the enchanting family gathering, did not leave until late in the night, well after the usual bedtime for little Theo, who was by no means tired. Fuelled by the excitement of the festivities, he gave his parents an unexpectedly difficult challenge about agreeing to go to bed.
“Alright, I've finally got him to sleep.” Sebastian announced triumphantly as he descended the stairs to the living room.
“How did you do it?” MC asked from the sofa where she was sitting, drinking pumpkin juice.
He laughed, “I told him that the quicker he fell asleep, the quicker he'd wake up and be able to fly on his broomstick.”
MC joined in his laughter, albeit ruefully. Her smile seemed forced because it did not reach her eyes, which were shifty and preferred to remain fixed on the glass in her hands.
"What's the matter, darling? You're acting different." Sebastian asked with genuine concern as he sat down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her knee.
MC jumped up from the sofa at the touch, as if his contact had burnt her, "I – uhm... I have another present for you. I'm kind of nervous to give it to you. That's why I wanted to wait until we were alone."
As she stood in front of Sebastian, she consequently took out her wand and pointed it at one of the cabinets in the living room to open one of the drawers and take out a small rectangular box – about the size of a paperback book – which she made float towards her. Once the object was in her hands, she stared at it hesitantly, then took a deep breath before shoving the package into Sebastian's hands, who was still sitting on the sofa.
"But I only got you one present." Sebastian says, inspecting the present wrapped in red wrapping paper and adorned with a thick, glittery gold ribbon.
"No, you gave me two. Just because they were in the same box doesn't mean it counts as one gift. So we're even." She tried as best she could to reassure him, despite her own nerves, which had been frayed for several days now. "Now, open it."
Sebastian untied the ribbon and removed the lid. Inside he found a pair of white woollen knitted bootees. Under his wife's apprehensive gaze, he froze in silence for a long moment, trying to make sense of this original gift.
"I knitted them myself.” MC said in a small voice to break the agonising silence.
“They're very well made, but… You know, I think Theo already doesn't fit into these anymore." Sebastian joked in an attempt to ease the awkwardness between them.
MC choked back a strained laugh, "That's probably because they're not for Theo."
"Who're they for, then?" He asked with an uncomprehending frown, holding the bootees in his hands.
MC did not say a word. She simply looked at him with a nervous smile, patiently waiting for the realisation to hit him. When it eventually did, it was like he had been struck by lightning. He, who had always been cool-headed and knew how to remain composed even in the worst circumstances – even more so now that he had all his years as an Auror behind him – was currently speechless, and his eyes widened to such an extent that MC feared they would burst out of their sockets.
"You're pregnant?" Sebastian questioned, bewildered.
MC only nodded in response, as she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tears welling up. Ever since she had seen a Healer to confirm her suspicions, she had dreaded the moment when she would break the news in turn, letting all sorts of doubts go to her head.
Now that the cat was out of the bag, and she could see her husband looking at her with wide, amazed eyes, she could no longer fathom how she had ever doubted him. How could she have ever thought that he would be anything but supportive to her?
"You're pregnant." He repeated again with a beaming smile, but this time it was not a question. It was a statement to himself, while he was still trying to process the information that had knocked him for six by how unexpected it was.
It seemed to do the trick to snap him out of his daze, as he jumped to his feet, his exuberance evident in the way he pulled MC into his arms. He lifted her off the ground and swirled her around in the air, a whirlwind of happiness and love. MC giggled, caught up in the infectious joy radiating from him. Laughter echoed through the room as they shared a dance of sheer delight, celebrating the beautiful journey that lay ahead of them.
"Oh, MC! That's... I don’t even have the words to describe how fabulous this is!" He exclaimed excitedly as he put her down on the ground and rested a gentle hand on her stomach. "We're gonna have another little one of our own."
"We are." MC confirmed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and giving it a little squeeze, as if to assure him that it was all real.
"So that's why you got dizzy this morning!" Sebastian's eyes lit up with pride at having put the pieces together. However, that did not last long, because his realisation erased any trace of eagerness and replaced it with worry that made his face fall. "Bloody hell, MC! You cooked all morning while being pregnant. You should’ve let me do it. I'm your husband, you can– no, you must rely on me. I promise I'll be more present from now on, so that you can rest more."
Without further ado, he gently forced MC to sit back down on the sofa with him, so that she would not be even more tired after such a long day. She had to take it easy now that she was carrying their child, the proof of their unconditional love.
Sebastian was committed to being as doting as he could, to pampering his wife even more than he already was. So when MC suddenly burst into tears for no apparent reason, it was only natural for Sebastian to panic and try to work out what was wrong.
"What is it? Did I say something wrong?" He asked worriedly, immediately grabbing her hands.
"No. No, you’re perfect as always... But I was so scared to tell you." She replied in between sobs. "We've been so busy since we had Theo that we've never discussed whether we wanted a second child, plus you've just been promoted so you're going to have a lot of work coming up... I just didn't think it was the right time. I was scared you wouldn't be pleased with the news.”
Still holding her hands, Sebastian brought them to his mouth to place sweet kisses to her knuckles, “MC, I'll have as many children as you're willing to give me, whatever the circumstances.”
“So you're happy?” She asked him in a trembling voice, her big doe eyes full of tears.
It broke Sebastian's heart to see her like this, but he knew he had to get used to it, because this was just the beginning of the hormonal mood swings, "Very much so. You couldn't make me happier for Christmas."
He lovingly kissed away the tears on her cheeks, until none trickled down any more, and MC flung herself at him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling into his soft hair, and he gladly hugged her back, holding her (and his future child) close to him.
Their embrace conveyed the depth of their joy, and all the unshakable love that bound them together. In that magical moment, as their hearts beat in harmony with the joyous news, the room seemed to overflow with the warmth of their connection. The hug lingered, a silent celebration of the love that had brought them to this beautiful chapter in their lives, while Sebastian whispered sweet words in MC's ear.
"We're gonna be one big happy family." He murmured while caressing her hair soothingly.
"I know."
Feeling a surge of emotions that mere words could not capture, MC gently pulled away from the hug. Her eyes, filled with a profound love, locked onto Sebastian's chocolate ones. In those perfect eyes, the ones she never wanted to look away from, she saw the promise of many more beautiful memories and wonderful Christmases to come.
A simple 'I love you' was nowhere near enough to convey how unconditionally enamoured she was with him. Words seemed insufficient to express the depth of her feelings. Instead, she chose a language that transcended the limitations of speech. She leant in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a tender, lingering kiss upon his lips.
The kiss spoke volumes—of gratitude, of connection, and of a love that could overcome any ordeal. It was a tender yet fervent gesture, a silent proclamation of the emotions that resonated within their hearts. As they shared the soft, meaningful kiss, the room seemed to hold its breath, enveloping them in the timeless language of love.
Sebastian, understanding the unspoken sentiments, responded with a warmth that mirrored her profound affection, even though he was the first to break the kiss and choose this moment of vulnerability to lay bare his heart.
“I adore you, Mrs. Sallow. Truly and desperately. Thank you for always making the happiest man alive.”
MC could not help but dive back in to kiss the lips that, for ten years now and until her last breath, she called home.
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow fluff#hogwarts legacy fanfic#fanfic#christmas#christmas fluff#christmas fanfic
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the train ain't even left the station
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: G
Word Count: 2K
Summary: request: "If you're up for it I'd love to see a small lil fic of Sebastian sending his child off to Hogwarts for the very first time! Like maybe Sebastian is telling them about his adventures with Ominis and MC to make the child less nervous or just letting them know how exciting things will be for them :)"
in the same 'verse as "it's a sign of the times" [AO3]
Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”
“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.
A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”
“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.
September 1, 1910
Suspended overhead in the bustling terminal of King’s Cross Station is a massive clock. Every morning, hundreds of thousands of Londoners – both Muggles and wizards alike, though more often the former – pass underneath the clock as they hurry to catch their trains. Many will casually glance up to ensure they’re still on time as they make their way to work, school, or even the lucky few off on holiday.
As it happens, the first day of September brings countless students to the station on their way to boarding schools all over the U.K., meaning the station stays especially crowded well into the late morning. Worried mums and impatient dads all turn their eyes toward that clock, hoping their sprogs won’t be left on the platform on their very first day of school.
Just as the minute hand slides into place at the very bottom of the clock, a handsome young family emerges from a tiny waiting room positioned at the far end of the terminal.
Hundreds of Muggle men in their funny, black suits and odd little bowler hats have already walked right past the waiting room without sparing it a second glance. In fact, had any of them paused to do so, they would have read a small sign affixed to the door that simply read, “Out of Order.”
But inside that waiting room is a grand fireplace. Not just any fireplace, mind you – one that roared brilliantly twenty-four hours a day, never needs stoking, and, perhaps most importantly, spews out bright green flames.
Sebastian Sallow first exits the waiting room with a precarious cart loaded up with trunks, birdcages, and even some broomsticks of all things. If the Muggles passing by thought anything of the man’s rather odd collection of travel items, no one said a word.
He glances up at the clock and grins.
“Ten thirty,” he says confidently over his shoulder. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be late.”
Beside him is his young wife. Their smallest child, a boy just a few months shy of his fifth birthday, is dozing in her arms. Behind them are their oldest children, a pair of twins, chatting excitedly as they follow their parents toward the barricade between platforms nine and ten.
“Doesn’t it seem a bit redundant to Floo all the way down to London just to put the children on a train back to Scotland?” Sebastian mumbles as your family weaves its way through the flowing crowds.
“Perhaps, but all the children love riding the train,” you remind him fondly. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition, especially for the little ones.”
Having never had the chance to take the Hogwarts Express yourself, you find yourself mildly envious of your eldest children, both of whom will soon be taking their very first journey on the school’s scarlet red steamer train.
“Besides,” you add teasingly. “If I recall, you and Anne met Ominis on your first train ride to Hogwarts, correct?”
“Fine, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Sebastian relents with a soft smile. “I rather think this whole journey will have been worth it if the twins happen to make lifelong friends who save their lives several times over.”
“Do we have to?” your son Simon pipes up, sounding wary. “Because I packed a book I wanted to read.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a look that reads, He is your son through and through.
“Trying to prove you’re a Ravenclaw already, are you?” Sebastian teases him. “Just like your mum, you are.”
“I’m going to be a Slytherin like you, Daddy!” your daughter Anne-Marie chimes in proudly. “Even Auntie Anne said so!”
You and Sebastian exchange a fond, albeit exasperated look. Ever since Anne (and eventually Sebastian) had accepted the life-limiting curse placed upon her by Rookwood, she’d instead focused on honing types of magic that don’t drain her of her energy or cause her any more pain. She’d found comfort in Divination and has grown into a very powerful Seer, though she often uses her gift to rile up your children with premonitions of being spoiled rotten on their birthday or soundly beating the other village children in their broomstick races.
However, predicting that your mischievous little girl will end up in Slytherin is a fairly safe bet, you imagine.
“I won’t be the least bit surprised if that’s true,” Sebastian says warmly. “But just know your mother and I will love you all the same no matter which house you end up in.”
“Even Hufflepuff?” Simon asks nervously. “Ernest from the village says Hufflepuffs are boring.”
“Don’t forget your Auntie Poppy is a Hufflepuff,” you tease him. “She’s anything but boring!”
That seems to cheer Simon up a bit, but your sweet, slightly shy boy falls back beside you as you get closer to the platform barricade.
“Alright, my love?” you ask him softly.
He reaches for your free hand and squirms up tightly against your side. “It’s really big…”
You size up the high brick archway before you. To the naked eye, it appears as solid as rock, and despite Sebastian’s reassurances that it’s perfectly safe to run straight at it, you imagine you’d be intimidated as well if you were only eleven years old.
“Don’t worry, darling,” you reassure him. “Your father and I will come with you to the platform, you won’t have to go through alone.”
He nods wordlessly and you squeeze his hand. Ever her father’s girl, Anne-Marie takes Sebastian’s arm and the two of them push the wobbly luggage cart straight at the archway, and in the blink of an eye, they’ve vanished.
“See?” you murmur to Simon. “Not so scary, is it?”
With your youngest still propped against your hip, you and Simon walk toward the barricade at a slower pace. You glance around to make sure no Muggles are watching as you slip through the magical brick facade, and then in the blink of an eye you’re on a pack platform surrounded by wizarding families and children in bright, colorful robes.
“Over here!” Sebastian calls out, and you see that he’s pulled the cart right up to the train.
“Help each other with your trunks, just like that,” Sebastian says as Simon and Anne-Marie first carry the trunk marked with an “S.S.” aboard the carriage and then return for the other marked with an “A.M.S.”
Then they carry in their owls – both young tawny birds raised from hatchlings, a gift from their Aunt Poppy. Finally, they return for their brooms, which Sebastian knows for a fact they ought not to have as first years, but he hopes he can talk Headmaster Weasley into looking the other way once they arrive with the intent of trying out for their house Quidditch teams.
(Raising your children in a wizarding village had been quite an eye-opening experience for you. Your twins have been on broomsticks since they could walk, and over the years their godfather Ominis has insisted on making sure they always have the latest model – one for each, so they won’t squabble over sharing.)
You pull Anne-Marie in for a tight hug once the children finish unloading their cart.
“You’ve got everything you need?” you ask her, pretending your voice hasn’t gone thick with tears. “I’ve packed you both some sweets for the ride, remember to share with your new friends, and write to us as soon as you get back to your dormitories please–”
“Yes, Mum,” she says, somewhat impatiently. “We promise we will.”
Anne-Marie kisses her littlest brother goodbye on his chubby cheek, fondly brushing back some of those messy brown curls your husband had given him.
“Why don’t you let your father give you a hug goodbye, sweetheart?” you gently prompt her.
You expect you’re the only one who’s noticed that Sebastian’s eyes have gotten a bit wet as he’d watched his children load up their belongings on the train. Even though he’d likely try to deny it if you prodded him, he sincerely looks like he could use a hug.
As soon as Anne-Marie approaches him with her arms out, Sebastian scoops her up against his chest like he’d often done when she was much smaller – only now her legs nearly touch the floor, and soon he’ll only be able to sway her like this with her feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Have a great term, sweetheart,” he tells her softly. “I can’t wait to hear all about it – even the parts that’ll exasperate your mother.”
“I promise I’ll be good,” she says ruefully.
Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”
“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.
A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”
“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.
You narrow your eyes suspiciously and decide to leave it be for now, but as soon as you turn away, Sebastian leans down and whispers, “Write to Uncle Ominis and ask him where to find it. It’s a Sallow’s rite of passage.”
“I will,” she says excitedly. “And I’ll bring Simon.”
“Good girl,” he says proudly.
Anne-Marie manages to free Simon from your weepy grasp so that Sebastian can also pull him in for one last hug, reassuring his son he’ll be proud of him no matter which house he eventually calls home. Then the two link arms as they make their way toward the train, climbing up the stairs behind a gaggle of redheaded children (whose surname you could likely guess on the first try).
They settle into a compartment halfway down the carriage. Anne-Marie eagerly presses her face against the glass and makes a silly face at Sebastian, which he delightedly returns. Simon waves goodbye as well and holds up the book he’d packed, showing it off as if to say, “See Mum? We’ll be just fine.”
With your groggy son in your arms and Sebastian’s arm around your shoulders, you watch as the train slowly starts to rumble down the tracks and into the brilliant September sunshine. It’s carrying your children ever closer to your home, and yet further away from you than they’ve ever been.
You hide a few tears against the lapel of Sebastian’s robes; he kindly wipes away the rest with a handkerchief and kisses the redness on your cheeks and nose until you’re smiling once more.
“They’re going to have an incredible year,” he whispers to you. “It’s Hogwarts.”
You simply nod, not trusting yourself to answer without a stray sob slipping out.
Dozens of parents begin to Apparate away from the tracks as soon as the train rounds the corner, but with your youngest, you’ll need to make your way back to the station’s Floo flames to get home safely. This time pushing an empty cart, the three of you slip back through the brick barricade.
“It sure will feel quiet when we get home,” Sebastian says a little sadly.
“We’ve still got the littlest one,” you say softly, cradling your sleeping boy’s cheek as he clings to you through his nap. “He’ll keep us on our toes enough as he gets older.”
“I suppose,” Sebastian sighs, still sounding morose even as he reaches over and gently strokes the back of his fingers down your singleton’s back.
Then he perks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “Or perhaps we could try for a fourth?”
You shoot him a withering glare. “Not on your life, Sebastian Sallow. We’ve just sent the twins off to school, I think that means we should actually get to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.”
(Though when your twins come home for the winter holidays with countless tales of their adventures with new friends and their pockets stuffed full of Zonko’s products, Sebastian gets to be the one to tell them they’ll have a new baby sister the following summer.)
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fic#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fic#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x reader#sebastian x mc#anne sallow#ominis gaunt#IT'S AN OFF TO HOGWARTS KIDFIC TADA
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no shame
*word count: 7k *pairing: afab! reader / leviathan *contents: ! NSFW minors pls dni. pegging. anal sex. demon form/monsterfucking. begging. submissive levi. degrading. praising. handjob. tail-fucking. leviathan has two dicks. reader has afab anatomy and it's described as such. porn with feelings. cheesy ending, i can't help it. (no beta, pls forgive any mistake)
*summary:
Leviathan gets his ass fucked with a strap-on in his demon form. You give him the right balance between degrading and loving him 🖤
*a/n: guess who's back (?) this fic had been hiding in my drafts for about 5 months while being like 95% completed. i figured it had the right to be finished and see the light. i enjoyed way too much writing it, so pls enjoy it with me uwu
also at ao3 here 🖤
“It’s okay, hey. It’s okay. Look at me”.
The soothing sound of your words resonates deeply within him, and like a fresh intake of air, you are able to calm his nerves if only slightly.
Certainly, he doesn’t remember the last time he was in that position, so… exposed and vulnerable. But his excitement is stronger and there’s no way he’s stopping this now that you two decided to give it a try.
“MC…” He says your name while he lifts a timid hand and touches your chest, fingers slowly running down you soft skin from your breasts to your belly in an electrifying sensation that tingles through your spine with the way he softly rubs in small circles, as much as he can reach, before continuing to travel lower.
He shyly looks up to you, directly meeting your gaze, and the tenderness that finds you in there would almost look out of place with such a delicate expression if it weren’t for the darkness that’s starting to engulf the color of his eyes. Then, his index and middle finger move to brush over the length of the soft, pastel pink dildo attached to your hips with a touch that seems so delicate but hides an enticing intention. You’re unable to look away.
In a captivating gesture, his finger gets to the tip, and he gives it a faint caress, circling the head in a movement so gentle and full of desire you barely forget to breathe from anticipation.
Shit.
You grab his hand and take it to the length of the toy, and placing your own above his, you guide it to embrace the thick girth and move it down in a firm but steady grip, letting him feel the texture and size of it.
“Mmm… Fuck…” He lets out in a breathy voice, closing his eyes and clearly enjoying what he’s touching. The big, imposing toy was chosen carefully between the two of you for this special occasion, with the sole purpose of meeting Leviathan’s strict demands. The length, girth and texture had to be perfect, for it to touch and stimulate his sensitive zones maximizing the pleasure. As the pervert he is, it could only be an extra-large sized dildo with a rugous texture on its borders.
Just by touching it with his fingers he can feel already excited to be fucked with it, by you precisely, in your room, within this intimate and comfortable space for the two of you.
You carefully observe how Levi gets turned on watching and touching the toy, and you feel the need to start to advance in the act. You reach out for the lube near the border of the bed and pour a generous amount on the tip. The transparent liquid is smeared into your palm and you pass it through the length of the dildo, covering it with the substance and easing the movement through it.
Your hands keep a steady pace, up and down, and even though you can’t feel a thing, the action is erotic enough to make your own body respond to it, your pussy moistening in expectation as you look at how Leviathan’s eyes are set on you, hypnotized. He’s laying on his back completely exposed in his demonic form, and the desire that runs strongly through you wants to have more of him, to feast on what he’s offering so generously.
“Baby… Now I want to touch you some more… Can I?" Your voice comes out low and sultry, impressing you a bit by its intensity. His eyes look for yours again, and after studying your expression, he gives you a shy smile, looking away with a red face.
“Y-Yeah… Please…”
You let go of his hand and proceed to accommodate yourself above him, brushing your fingers over his naked torso. Ah, it’s always a sight to behold, the strong muscles he always keeps hidden rising as his back arches when you touch him. You hear his heavy breathing and how he hums in delight.
Your hand goes down greedily until you get closer to his crotch, his untouched hard cocks demanding attention as they stand big and glistening under the lights. Bewitched by the sight, you don’t think twice and palm one of his erections, the upper one, making him gasp at the motion.
“A-Ah! MC!”
It’s cute how desperate he can get, how touch starved he is. Funnily, it’s not like you’re any different with how much you need him all the time but seeing him like this will always have a strong effect on you. Lust immediately takes over you, and you decide to please him as your touch gets stronger, grabbing his erection fully with a firm grip.
A high-pitched cry comes out of him as your already soaked hand feasts in his ecstasy. As always, you can’t help but notice how big your demon is, your hand seeming so small and delicate compared to the huge, monstrous cock it’s holding. Sensing your mouth watering a bit, you admire the deliciously perfect sight beneath you, his face already red and expressive as he longingly looks at what you’re doing.
You let him go for a moment, getting a discontent grunt in return. “Patience, love,” you say as you grab the lube once more and pour it messily on both of his dicks. The coldness must’ve been unpleasant since it makes him hiss, but as soon as your hand touches him again, he relaxes and lets himself go with the sensation.
You stroke your fingers over his lower one and you feel it twitch under the attention it’s finally receiving. Repeating the act, Leviathan nests his head on the pillow and his gaze sets to the ceiling, weakened by the weight of the pleasure he starts to feel, letting out an airy and silent groan. His neck is left exposed as inviting you, skin creamy and lightly shiny by the sweat it’s starting to appear in there.
At seeing how much he’s feeling it, you tease that one for a couple of seconds, pressing into its length and dragging it through it until you finally decide to indulge him some more and grab both on each hand.
“Ah, fuck! Ah…” The loud, clear whine echoes through the walls as his eyes now close tightly for a second and he bites his lower lip. He opens his heavy eyes once again and looks at you with a needy expression, whispering “M-More…”
You can’t help but smirk at his reaction, your own want growing and making you a bit more desperate too. Motivated by his petition, you start to move your hands slow but firmly in a tight grip, smooth by the lubricant. Light squelching sounds start to be noticeable with the wet and slippery movements of your hands on his hot dicks, Leviathan’s breathing turning faster and heavier as his eyes close and he unconsciously spreads even further his toned thighs, losing himself in the pleasant sensation.
The sight of his exquisite body completely naked beneath you, so submissive and given, is irresistible, driving your head to become dizzy from lust for him. The sensation of his two inhuman cocks in your hands is unholy as they move driven only by the purpose of filling the powerful demon with ecstasy, who can’t stop letting out soft and impure moans with every assault to his body, as in a completely deliriant state that’s out of his control while his long snake tail is swaying, wrinkling the sheets below.
A petty desire grows and burns intensely in your sex at the lewd display, but for now is ignored as this is for him, for his pleasure, for you to see how much you can ruin him and soothe him in the same night. You guess you’ll have your chance to find your own release later, so you choose to not worry for now and focus on him.
You notice how his beautiful lashes flutter and he opens his eyes slowly, unfocused gaze searching disoriented before setting his gaze on you for a few seconds, locking it on you. Then, he looks away distracted by something.
“What is it, love? Am I hurting you?”
“Ah… No, I…” He looks around some more. “Could you pass me the lube?”
So he was looking for that. Intrigued, you stop your ministrations for a moment as you follow his order, handing him the small bottle that he receives without meeting your eyes again. He opens the lid and pours some on his index and middle finger, rubbing them to warm the liquid, clearly letting you know his next movement.
He tosses the botte aside with blushed cheeks and… Wait, is he really avoiding your gaze? Does he have the audacity to feel ashamed right now? Whatever is happening inside his mind, he ends up anyways placing his fingers over his entrance, starting to tease it himself.
He closes his eyes, and his brow is somewhat furrowed while he concentrates on the motion, toying with his hole in slow, soft movements to begin the preparation for the intrusion that’s to come.
You notice he doesn’t take too long easing the muscle and he starts to push his fingers in his hole, his fired up body having responded already to this foreplay, lubricating and dilating where he needs it.
“Everything ok? What do I do to help?” you say awkwardly. You’ve read stuff like this before but honestly, what do you even know about doing this to a man, or demon, in real life?
“I-I’m fine… I’ve done this before plenty of times. Just… don’t stop… what you were doing, please…” He finishes that sentence in a lower volume, almost whispering.
“Ok… Just tell me anything you need…” You answer as your hands resume its movements, though in a much lighter grip so he can concentrate while still receiving a tender tickle of pleasure.
He’s not much better than you, it seems. Even if he has played with himself before, used toys and all, he is as inept as you at doing with someone else like this. You let it go and keep touching his erections while he teases himself. Of course, you can’t help but look, curiosity and desire making it unable to look away as he enters two fingers while you keep attending him with your hands.
His fingering is careful and slow, taking his time in accommodating the action. You watch as he enters them deeper and makes circulating movements stretching it open, and after a moment, searching for a sensation he knows very well. Levi covers his mouth with a hand as he fondles a sensitive spot inside, letting out a surprised moan and his body giving a small shiver.
The sound of his sweet and desperate sound makes you feel drunk from desire, and you can’t help getting closer to his warm body, the musky scent that emanates from him becoming increasingly more intoxicating while you position your face in front of his, and press a soft kiss on his lips that he receives with complete submission. You let go one of his erections in order to support your arm by the side of his head, cleaning your hand just enough with the sheet before bringing it closer to his wet bangs and moving them softly, brushing them back from his forehead and uncovering his mesmerizing face. He turns his gaze back to you and whispers close to your mouth, “W-What are you doing?”
Smiling, you answer while caressing his forehead and his temple. “Nothing, I just wanted to see your pretty face, hehe”. You press another wet kiss to his mouth, and then you start to cover his lips and the skin around them with soft pecks. “I love you so much… You’re going to give yourself to me, right?”
Levi enjoys each one of your kisses, without presenting any resistance. His body shivers from the satisfaction it's receiving from your attention and his own fingers working inside him. Between little moans, he says with a faint, thirsty voice, “Y-Yes… I’m yours right now… Don’t stop kissing me, please…”
With those words, you proceed to claim his mouth passionately, in a long, wet kiss, your tongue assaulting his and slowly licking it, the movement of your other hand on his cock now faster. He responds with the same intensity, melting in the heat and pleasure as his own movements gain more speed.
Frantically, he fucks himself with his long digits, thrusts sharp and deep, breaking the kiss to catch his breath. His sunset gaze is set on you as his body starts filling with pleasure until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore as he keeps nudging his sweet spot. A throaty grunt comes out while the merciless pace fills the room with filthy, wet sounds from the lube and his own fluids. “Fuck… Ah!”
And after a moment, you watch as he decides to slow down the action to restrain himself before he surrenders to his own enjoyment too soon.
“Ah… I think that’s enough,” he murmurs in between pants. “I… I can… take more…” His voice is low and slightly shy as he pronounces those words, clearly conveying what he wants next.
“O-Ok... Just in case, do you wanna start with a smaller one?” You ask carefully, wanting to make sure he’s ready for it.
“No, no, don’t worry... I can take it, I’m sure.” He says with more confidence in his tone, but still not directly looking at you. You smile at his impatience and decide to tease him. “Of course. My little baby has put who knows how many things in there, hasn’t he? Haha.”
He gives you a startled look “You- You have to do that now? I-Idiot, I’m gonna take revenge, you know?”
You laugh at his words, his tsundere demeanor never failing to be as ridiculous as endearing, and you kiss his cheek with a wet peck before softly telling him “I’ll be waiting for that then”.
You sit back to prepare for what’s coming next. Once you get a view from above, you can see the wrecked state he’s into. His silky hair is disheveled around his imponent black and blue horns, staring at you between narrowed eyes and blushed cheeks, and his velvety, moist lips slightly parted that seem to invite you to kiss them one more time. A thin layer of sweat covers his large body, rising and falling with his heavy breathing, his legs spread and his arms weakly lying at each side as his long and thick tail encircles his perfect frame above the bed, the tip swaying in delicate waves.
You suddenly feel small and pathetic above such a sight, how can you even fuck him? You, a mere human, who’s about two heads shorter than him. He has the strength to break you in a second, yet he’s offering himself to you right now with the most sinful and tempting sight you could’ve imagined. It must look so funny from the outside. How in the world could you be so lucky? You don’t understand.
Still, this is no time to overthink, and giving yourself some courage, you reach once again for the poor discarded bottle of lube. You spread more content on the pink dildo, smearing it through the length with one hand while, with the other, you reach for his thigh, caressing his soft skin to let him know you’re there with him, for what’s to come now. A lazy smile decorates his beautiful features as he pierces you with his intense eyes.
After you deem it’s ready, you position yourself above him, setting the toy near his entrance. You hear him sigh in anticipation while you place the tip, pressing lightly into him.
“Are you ok…?” you ask sheepishly.
“Y-Yeah… Are you?”
“…I think I am.” You pause, inhaling slowly to fill your lungs with air and get ready. “I… I’ll put it in.”
His voice is quiet and sweet, waiting patiently. “Ok…”
You enter the toy slowly into him, burying it deeper while you look at his expression for any sign of discomfort. It’s thick and long so you worry for a second, but he seems relaxed enough, his eyes closing softly while it happens, like he knew exactly what to anticipate. It seems like his body gives into it without much resistance, helping to calm your own nerves. You wish you could be… cooler right now. More dominant since that’s what Levi likes, what he’s really into. But you need to trust him, if he says he wants you, you’ll give it to him and hopefully get enough into it for both of your enjoyment.
As the toy is almost all the way in, you stop for him to accommodate to its thicker girth near the base. His breath is faster, but he opens his eyes and looks at you through a heavy gaze. You caress his thighs while you wait, and after some seconds, he speaks.
“I’m fine. You can move… please.” His tone is sweet and peaceful, enjoying from early on what’s happening. The small connection of this moment feels like an intimate secret only to share between the two of you. It soothes your nerves and impulses you to keep going, to give him what he’s asking.
With a fresh and warm determination, you obey his wish. “S-Sure. I’ll… move.”
You rock your hips back in control, not wanting to hurt him in any way, and once it’s almost all the way out, you push inside again up to the brim, feeling how he lets out a small, soft grunt in satisfaction at being filled like that.
Taking it as an invitation to continue, you establish a steady, slow pace, guiding yourself by his little initial reactions. As he's getting used to the movement of your hips, his brow furrows and he gasps softly, gradually starting to get consumed by the pleasing sensation that washes over him.
“Ah… Yeah, just like that…” Between small moans, Levi orders you to continue like this, his body muscles tensing a bit when you strike deep inside, but eventually he relaxes and surrenders to the sweet, thick sensation, his cheeks even redder and his luscious lips parted and his sounds escape from him. You concentrate on giving him a good time, studying his body language and noises as you keep rocking your hips at a steady pace, sinking into him over and over again. You can only trust in his words and hope you’re doing it well.
“Ah! MC… faster, go faster, please.”
For some reason, hearing him begging is doing many things to you. He’s so cute like this you want to wreck him, corrupt him even further, make him an even more sinful, wicked existence. Fuck his brains out until he’s crying your name.
You thrust harder this time, fastening the motion, hitting deep into him with each jolt of your hips. A throaty moan escapes from him as you hit his sensitive spot, singing your name in a sweet tone that hits directly into your own groin. You feel yourself getting more turned on and wet as you sense his reactions, wanting to drive rougher into him, to make that pretty blushed face corrupt in fervor.
If only you could feel him, feel his tight, hot walls squeezing the fake dick you’re penetrating him with, to feel the hotness that engulfs it. You can’t, you fucking can’t, but you’re so into it you simply need to set a frantic pace while you pound into him with all your strength to have that connection. To hell with it. Even if you can’t, you’ll make him feel it, you’ll force him to let you know how it feels. He’s yours right now, and no one else can ever give it to him.
“Ah! Ah, MC! Fuck, yes, just like that!” he whines loudly, his head thrown back and his torso arched as he falls more and more into rapture. You grab his thighs on each side, lifting them and grabbing them in a tight, violent grip while you plunge into him, nails burying into his creamy skin, glistening under the warm lights of the candles at the tree. You’ll never see a more ethereal, more immoral thing ever again. He’s absolutely perfect underneath you.
“You like that? Is that what you like? Hard and fast? Are you that dirty and indecent, Third Ruler of Hell?” Your voice is hoarse as you fall into rapture, suddenly not afraid anymore to talk to him like that.
“A-Aahhh, yes! MC! Please, give it to me!” He responds eagerly to your degradation, like the big fucking pervert he is. He desperately grabs the sheets as he surrenders to you, his face of pure ecstasy with heavy, rolled-back eyes and sweat glistening on his forehead and neck while you ram into him.
Provoked by his euphoric response to your brutality, you release one of his legs to bring your hand to his neck, pressing just below his jaw but without completely choking, not daring yet to do something like that. The moment you grab tightly to keep his neck in place, Levi lets out a choked and indecent sound of pleasure, enjoying immediately being subjected this way. “Aahhh… MC~”, he says with an exalted, shivering voice, the air from his ragged breathing is warm from his smiling mouth.
“Do you really enjoy me having you like that? Restrained and submitted while I’m fucking you hard? And you’re supposed to be an Admiral? How pathetic and disgusting you are, Leviathan…” You can’t help laughing at insulting him like that, especially when he only lets out another moan at your supposedly hurtful words.
“G-Grand Admiral, but yes… I am pathetic and disgusting, that’s what I am, right? A repulsive, creepy pervert, yet you still love me, right? Haaah, MC…” He says with a voice almost maddened from pleasure while he enjoys the grip of your hand and your hard movements inside him, hitting his most sensitive parts over and over again, filling him deep to the bottom.
Now a wicked smile decorates your face, losing yourself in the delicious spectacle your demon is offering you, his perversion and arousal filling you with desire for more. He really is a depraved otaku, but you can only feel a light heat in your chest when you hear how he wants to be reassured of your love even at a moment like this. “Yes… I love you… You, being a degenerate and all… You are mine, right?”
“Hmm!” Levi arches his back when a certain thrust hits right into his sweetest spot, and when you notice his reaction, you aim at it vigorously, hitting over and over again as he starts letting out a flow of high-pitched whines in a delicious staccato that resonates over the walls of your room. “Yes! I’m all yours, aah! Keep going, please, keep going right there, please!” He moans while you see his face contort with ecstasy, surrendering to you.
Answering his pleading, you give him what he asked with a few more pushes until you stop your actions and release his tense jaw, cutting him out of his pleasure in a cruel and sadistic act that makes him scream. “W-What are you doing?! N-No… D-Don’t stop,” he says with a begging gaze, quickly filling with tears of frustration at your lack of movement, “Please, n-no…”
His desperation is so adorable that you can only smile lovingly while you rub his sweaty forehead and his red cheeks. “Shh, shh, it’s ok, don’t cry, my love. I’m still here.” You whisper for him to ease his tension and relax a little bit, a small sob escaping his throat, but he decides to maintain his eyes on you while he tries to calm down and convince you. “I need you, please, please, keep going, don’t be mean… I love you, keep going, please.”
You give him a few sweet little kisses to his cheeks, one on the tip of his nose and another soft one on his lips. “I’ll keep going, Levi, I just need you to be good and listen to what I’ll say now, ok?” At the promise to continue, he can only nod desperately and beg a bit more, “Y-Yes, whatever you say, just do it, please…”
Sitting back and pulling away reluctantly from his warm and inviting body, you pull out the toy from inside him, which makes him let out a broken cry as if he was being deprived of the air he needs. “N-No…” he says now, releasing a couple of tears. The truth is, it’s not like you are necessarily a sadistic person, but the thing is it’s him who drives you to be this way right now, especially when he gets like this. But you know you wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t because he really enjoys It, he enjoys the desperation and the loss of control, and in this moment, you crave that control more than anything.
Smiling warmly at him, you instruct, “Turn around, my love, I want you on your knees and elbows right in front of me.” His eyes widen when he understands what you want, and with the little strength he can collect, he follows your orders and turns his back on you, exquisitely presenting you his ass and his broad back, a drop of sweat running down his neck. “L-Like this, right?”, he looks back at you expectantly and hopes to meet his lover’s expectations.
“Yeah, just like that. What a good boy you are… Hehe.” You tell him with a giggle while you position behind him, your hands running over the skin of his round butt and pulling out a shiver from his body. “Ahh…” he moans in approval while you start to rub circles through his cheeks and then squeeze them greedily with your hands. His tail undulates in a soft wave-like movement as he enjoys the attention you’re giving his ass, and you place one of your hands to the base of the appendage to give it a slow caress with two of your fingers, making him shudder and let out some small, choked moans.
“Y-You’re teasing… haha,” he says with a breathy, pained voice, arching his back to give you more access. “Hurry… up…”
At his attempt to order you around, you decide to punish him immediately with a slap to his cheek, the loud sound of your hand against his skin sounding through all the room along his whine of pain and pleasure that interrupts any word he was aiming to say. “Oh? You were saying something? Don’t be disrespectful, Leviathan.”
He bows his head and bites his lip at the demonstration of power, feeling a wicked desire for more humiliation. “Y-Yes…” he says before gulping, the movement of his torso showing how heavy his breathing is right now, “B-But… I can’t promise to behave… haha…” he dares to say with a soft, high voice before letting out a giggle sick from lust.
He really sounds delicious when you turn him desperate like that, and before you answer, you decide to claim him yours. With your other hand, you align the tip of the dildo with his ass again, making him choke in a whimper. “Ah, I see… You don’t want to keep your dignity at all… It’s ok, if that’s what you want so badly, you disgusting little fuck,” you pronounce before easily inserting the toy in his already open entrance, wet by his fluids and the lube, receiving it once again without any resistance.
“Ohhh, yes… Please, fill me, love,” he whispers, absolutely surrendered to the sensation, forgetting any other comeback he had in his mind a second ago. Once you put the dildo all the way in, it doesn't take long for you to start moving your hips, pulling it out and pushing it inside repeatedly while you grab his ass with your hands to steady yourself and hold him closer to your hips as you keep fucking him. You notice how he begins to lose himself in pleasure as he drops his weight on the bed, leaving only his back half in the air and burying his face in the pillow, drowning his loud, beautiful moans in it.
You focus your concentration on his pleasure, on how his body trembles and moves alongside yours in total synchronization, his hips and thighs slamming against yours over and over again, the sound of skin hitting skin loud and dirty. Just to enjoy his reaction, you decide to add another sound to the symphony by slapping his butt again, Levi letting out a scream as his cheek turns red from the violent action. "More! Give me more! “Nggh…!” he says desperately, asking you for more of the brutality that you don't hesitate for a second to give him again. “Yeah? Is that how much of a bitch you’re going to be with me?” You pronounce hotly before repeating the action two, three times, causing him to raise his head only to breathe easier between ecstatic grunts.
“Come here,” you whisper almost hatefully as you reach out to grab Leviathan by his hair and bring him towards you, lifting his body and supporting him with your other arm, circling it through his slim waist and positioning your hand on his abs. Your fingers in his damp hair grip the strands tightly, pulling it in an act of pure subjugation of the demon that he lets himself enjoy while his eyes narrow and roll back, his half-open mouth letting out small gasps.
You suddenly feel his tail start wrapping around your leg first, and then by your hips simply to touch you a little bit more, deliciously rubbing his scaly texture against your body that you didn't know needed attention so badly until now. The tip naughtily approaches your crotch, and you honestly have no idea how Levi bothers to do it while he seems to be delirious from the sensations he's receiving, but you greatly appreciate it when he touches your clit, making you tremble with pleasure, interrupting your movements. That does not go unnoticed by the demon who, unable to turn back to look at you from the grip on his hair, tells you softly and sweetly, “You like that, right? Keep going, love… I will take care of you...”
“...” You’re speechless for a second. This idiot has no right to make you feel so warm inside while you fuck him right in the ass, but he does. He does, and it makes your desire to finish him and ruin him even stronger. You resume your movements immediately, the pleasure beginning to fill you, motivating your hips even more as you thrust hard and deep, the tingling sensation of your own ecstasy making you join his chorus of moans and pants.
The hand that was holding his abdomen now goes down, and you take as much of his two huge penises as you can to give him the satisfaction he deserves for being so adorable, so him. Smiling maniacally and pulling his hair towards you, you begin to whisper close to his ear, encouraging him to find his satisfaction and finish. “Do it, my love, come. You are so beautiful and perfect, give it to me, come for me…”
"Mmm! Yes… Aah! MC! I'm close…!" The demon cries loudly as you penetrate him hard, his voice now raspy from whining so desperately. The contrast between the rough sex and your now sweet words make him lose his mind immensely. Your hips slam again and again, impaling him with the long, thick dildo that stimulates every part of his insides, the wet, slippery sounds only exciting you more to continue doing it, bringing your demon closer to his climax as he is being stimulated by both sides, your hand desperately pumping his erections wet by pre-come. You let go of his hair in order to caress his warm chest now, touching his nipples and squeezing them in an action done only to get the greatest amount of pleasure out of him, his sweet and desperate moans pointing out the fact that he is already on the verge of collapsing.
With the little consciousness left inside him, he makes sure his tail can give you a fair amount of the pleasure he’s receiving, and it slides forcefully between your folds, stimulating your clit over and over again before sliding the tip inside you, now fucking you while the wetness through all your cunt and nub makes your head dizzy with pleasure. Before you can come, you make sure it’s his turn first.
After a few more pounds, a loud and clear cry comes out of his throat, his body completely tense as he finally reaches his orgasm, deafened and dizzy from the intensity of it. A huge flow of liquid and almost transparent cum releases from both of his cocks that shamelessly stains the sheets of your bed and your hands, the slippery moisture serving as a great lubricant while you accompany him and pump him to finish his climax, the movement of your pounding in his ass now starting to calm down until you stop in order to not overstimulate the mess of a demon right now.
Leviathan’s body cannot support itself anymore, so you hold him up with your hand on his chest, the weight making the position difficult until you begin to let him slowly lower himself towards the bed, his mind completely blank and his body falling in his post-orgasmic state as only pants can be heard from him. You remove the dildo from his hole to let him lie down and rest weakly on the bed, as he also retires his tail from you. You miss the sensation immediately, but decide to wait for him to compose himself before you ask anything from him again.
As you take off the harness, you suddenly realize how tired you are, lying down next to him and wrapping your arm around his waist while you watch his heavy breathing begin to calm down. Smiling, you lean in to kiss his temple, and he turns to look at you softly, the unnaturally bright orange of his eyes resting on you. In one slow movement, you guide him to your chest, resting his head on it as you pet his hair and his horns, which makes him jump and laugh a little.
“I don't think I have any words,” he says in a husky voice before giving you a couple of pecks on your collarbone, and then adds “That was simply incredible… Holy shit, MC, haha…”
“I'm glad... Oh, and don't forget that you're not pathetic or disgusting, if you believe that shit I'll punch you.”
Leviathan chuckles softly as he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles into you even more. “I know… I trust you and I love you.”
Being filled with bliss, you hug him back and kiss his sweaty forehead. A few minutes pass like this, but the heat of his body is simply so pleasant that you lose yourself in it a little, pressing him harder against your chest and nuzzling his hair sweetly, a hint of desire escaping and reminding you that you’re still missing your own climax.
The demon notices your craving immediately, your hot body and your need for more physical contact revealing that you are still aroused. Levi lets out a playful giggle and says in a whisper, “I think I still have to take care of you, right? It would be cruel to leave you like this…”
“Ah… I can't help it, sorry,” you say in a strangely embarrassed voice, which is too adorable for him. He subtly moves his face up to look at you and smiles, whispering deliciously, “Don't apologize for anything, MC… I'm yours and you're mine… Let me just… give it to you…”
The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, but more than anything it's the strong anticipation that fills you right now. You smile back and bring his face closer to yours to give him a warm kiss that quickly turns passionate and wet, your tongues intertwining irresistibly. His arms wrap around you while your hands caress his hair, massaging his scalp full of devotion.
“Levi… Anything… Give me anything you can,” you say in a voice almost pained with hunger and desire as your eyes slowly close overwhelmed, to avoid looking at him so closely now that you're giving him the control. "Yes my love. Don't worry, Levi will take care of you,” he responds with almost the same intensity, but also happy to give you back even a part of everything you just gave him.
With a silent and sinister movement, you feel his tail again enveloping your thigh and rubbing your entrance, making you jump a little and let out a soft whine. “L-Levi…!” He looks at you studying your reaction while the tip of the scaly appendage begins to delightfully rub against your wet folds once again, satisfied to get that response out of you so quickly. “You like my tail… No matter what you say, you are as perverted as me…”
“H-Hey, don't insult me like that- Ah! Mmm…” you are able to answer him not so eloquently before you begin to give in to the pleasure. “...It's because it's perfect... You are perfect...”
He can't help but feel tremendously praised and content to receive those words, almost blushing as he usually does at any open display of affection from your part, but right now, that warmth only encourages him more to satisfy you and bring you to your climax. His tail continues to move playfully between your legs, stimulating on the outside before entering again, using its flexibility in order to touch everywhere it can reach, eliciting a string of sweet breathy moans from you. Right now, it sounds irresistible to his ears.
The sensation is simply too delicious, the tickling under your skin and the sensuality of the movements quickly taking you to the peak of your pleasure as you can only cry his name, still caressing and gripping his hair lovingly and desperately. One of his hands stops embracing you as he takes it to your abdomen, touching and fondling your stomach in small circles before traveling up to your breasts. He touches them gently at first, brushing the palm of his hand gently over your erect nipples, then rubbing them with his fingers. You let out a soft groan as he pinches one of the nubs, and then shamelessly squeezes your tit with his palm while he places a moist kiss to your jaw. The mixture of pleasant sensations becomes quickly too much for you.
“Ah! Levi, I’m… I’m coming…” you warn him some seconds before the inevitable, his voice a whisper of sweet nothings right in your ear. “Do it, come for me. You are so beautiful, so perfect, I love you. Don’t ever leave me, you’re mine forever, I love you…”
His cheesy words would make you hide ashamed in another context, but right now they only bring you to your orgasm while his tail, devoid of any mercy, continues to move strongly in your pussy, abusing your clit and rubbing the sweetest places inside you. You can't help the loud sounds that escape your throat, a high-pitched cry that Levi would drown out if he only reached and claimed your lips with his, but he decides to let the sound envelop him and enjoy the exquisite voice of your pleasure. Suddenly, you can only see white as your eyes shut and you feel your consciousness escape while your climax takes over you, the only thing grounding you to this place is the demon holding you against him.
“Yeah, that's right, just like that… Look at you, you're so warm and beautiful, my love…” He whispers while you convulse, caressing your thigh as his tail finally leaves your crotch, freeing you from any over-stimulation and letting you catch your breath. Heavy pants come out of your mouth while you fall completely limp on the sheets, letting yourself be cuddled by Levi, who’s tenderly pecking your face with little kisses before placing his face between your shoulder and your neck, letting you rest. “Yeah… so perfect and adorable,” he keeps murmuring.
…
Slowly, your thoughts come back into coherent shape, and all you can think about is how talkative he gets, especially when he's this excited. This man just won't shut the fuck up. Ever. But it’s fine, his voice is comforting in these moments of intimacy. With a slight smile, you kiss his sweaty forehead, convinced that you're not in much better shape. Everything is so warm and comfortable as he said, his body against yours feels like a comforting dream.
“That was fun, don't you think? Although I must admit… it makes me cringe a little now remembering-” You pause as you’re filled with sudden embarrassment. “Aaahhh, I'm sorry for saying so many strange things,” you tell him, strangely nervous. But he turns to look at you with an expression... similar to yours, his big eyes seeming to finally become aware of everything that happened.
“N-No, I-I, ahhh!” he says embarrassed as well, his face turning impossibly redder. “N-No, b-but no matter what, I won’t regret it! It was amazing! All I ever wanted! You are amazing and aaaggghhh-!” He blurts out to you, trying to reassure both of you that there is no reason to be ashamed, although his exaggerated expression is even more embarrassing to look at. You stare at him and laugh lightly. Nothing like a good cringey moment from Levi to forget your own discomfort.
“Okay, okay, baby… Everything's okay, haha…” you say with a softer voice as you press in to hug him closer and bury your face in his chest, hiding. You feel him embrace you back with an awkward giggle, both of you ignoring for now the deplorable state you're in and the need for a shower.
A smile decorates your face as you remember all you got to see and hear from him today. You strongly believe there’s no way this will be the first and last time you do this. Not after you had so much fun, despite the cringe.
There is still so much more you have to experience together. And you can’t wait for it.
#this is a long fic for being pure smut but you've been warned#obey me leviathan#obey me#obey me levi#obey me smut#obey me x reader#obey me fanfic#leviathan smut#leviathan x reader#obey me leviathan x reader#the title is more for me y'all don't know how challenging this was to make so i needed some big ass determination and zero shame#i'm satisfied with the result tho#Winter writes
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dessert fairy
s. sallow x f!reader
lil drabble inspired by talkiing with @ask-sebastian. ps i'm literally falling in love with this rp acct. he's too smooth i swear.
summary: in which sirona takes things into her own hands when she's tired of watching you and sebastian dance around your feelings for one another.
words: 1kish
warnings: 7th year mc and seb, pining, awkwardness, fluff, not edited! literally the tiniest bit of angst/ hurt and comfort. mention of professor fig :(
every year on the day the hogwarts students returned, hogsmeade held a little fair with music, various pop-up shops, and of course dancing in the square to celebrate. it went without saying that you and sebastian would be attending together as you had the previous year. you weren't sure if it was a good sign or not.
see, you and sebastian were stuck in a waiting game. he would walk you to your classes, insistent on holding your books, offer his scarf when you were cold, let you copy his homework, and would stand up for you anytime students teased you. but that's what any good friend would do, right? you were both painfully oblivious to the other's advances, and therefore you stayed in a limbo of casual flirting that never led to anything.
you pondered this as you stood in the courtyard facing the hamlet, your back to the entrance of the school. you were waiting for him to join you after dinner to head to hogsmeade for a night filled with fun. well, as much fun as you could possibly have with the person you're not-so-secretly pining after. you fidgeted with your hands, looking down at them awkwardly. you were unaware of the slytherin boy as he snuck up behind you, taking silent steps as he approached. his hands pinching your sides shook you out of your trance and you instinctively gasped, ready to scream and run from whatever spooked you.
"sebastian!" you exclaimed, rolling your eyes and clutching your chest as you saw him. he chuckled, letting his hands ghost over your hips as he stood in front of you.
"sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up." once you caught you breath, you found yourself blushing as you looked up at his tall form that practically towered over you now after his most recent growth spurt. his cinnamon eyes were still as rich and romantic as ever. "shall we?" you glanced down to see his arm that he held out for you to link with.
"i don't think i want to go with you now, sallow," you teased. he saw right through it.
"yes, you do. come on." he nudged you with his elbow. you sighed, finally snaking your arm around his muscular one as he began leading you to hogsmeade. as well as he could read you, you'd think he'd know how you truly felt about him. but unfortunately for the both of you, sebastian wasn't really as confident as he seemed. he was secure in his dueling abilities and being an incredible student, but when it came to you? he was just as in the dark as you were. you would get bake him his favorite sweets, choose him as your dueling partner every time without fail, and would consistently be there for him when he was missing his sister, letting him hold you tightly as you patted his fluffy brown curls. but that's just what any good friend would do, right?
as you approached the hamlet, you took in the sight of the extra twinkling lights they had put up and the adorable little shops that lined the square. one for handcrafted jewelry, one for a beautiful collection of paintings done by local artists, and a few booths selling various muggle objects. the regular musician that played in the square was also there, and with a few extra instruments that he harmonized perfectly together. it was busier than normal, but that was expected. people from hamlets all around the highlands traveled to see the festivals all year in hogsmeade. unbeknownst to you, while you were digesting your surroundings, sebastian stared down at you adoringly, savoring you adorable expression. he could feel his heart pang in his chest. merlin, how he wished he could confess everything to you in that moment.
"what first?" realizing you probably caught him staring, he blinked away his heart-eyes to respond.
"drinks, obviously," he joked, earning a giggle from you. he began leading you to the three broomsticks, which was only a few paces from the square. once you entered, it was the same as the outside, bustling with patrons chatting loudly.
"agreed. i need a few before i can socialize." he quirked his brown in your direction.
"you're socializing now, aren't you?" he asked in a teasing tone. you shook your head as you reached the only free table in the corner of the first floor. he pulled your chair out for you, pushing you under the table after you sat.
"no, you're different. i don't need alcohol to tolerate you."
he winced playfully, "ouch, tolerate?" you waved his fake pained expression away with your hand.
"oh, you know what i mean. of course i more than tolerate you." redness crept up your neck as you said it, feeling embarrassed by the slightest hint of boldness in your words and his gentlemanly gestures. he brushed it off, chuckling.
"i'll go get us a round, yeah? stay put." you nodded and watched him turn away. you let your head fall to the table with a thud once he couldn't see. how could he not see what he was doing to you? you quickly put yourself back together before he returned, full mugs of butter bear in hand. he placed them on the table in front of you and finally took his place opposite to you. you suddenly noticed the brilliant golden hues that cast across the room from the candle chandeliers. he looked angelic in the light, you could've sworn he was glowing.
"so, seventh year, hm?" he settled in the plush seat beneath him, or was he shifting nervously? you couldn't tell. "what are your plans after you absolutely ace the n.e.w.t.s?" he smiled cheekily as he brought the frosted mug up to his plush lips. you watched as you pondered your answer, eyeing the foam mustache that he skillfully wiped away with his tongue.
"uh-- i'm not entirely for sure yet. everything is still so new." he nodded understandingly, allowing you to continue. "professor weasley actually mentioned to me that they're still looking for a permanent replacement for professor fig." you tried to seem excited about it, but your eyes instantly fell to your fidgeting hands that rested on the table at the mention of your late mentor. "she said, um...that i might be a good fit, if things go well." his brow furrowed, his heart aching for you as he watched the excitement leave your face.
"you don't seem excited by the idea." he looked down at your hands and took one in his own, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. you shook your head glumly, unable to meet his gaze. "can i ask why?"
"it's just...there are so many other wizards and witches that are perfectly capable--" you stopped, forcing yourself to breathe before you started crying in public. he only squeezed your hand. "there are so many other capable people that aren't responsible for his death."
he shook his head immediately at the prospect. "what happened was in no way your fault, y/n. i didn't know him as well as you did, but what i do know is that him and every professor chose to fight alongside you that day. as far as i'm concerned, they were all lucky to have you there. imagine if you weren't and they had to fight ranrock without anyone with your ability?" you sighed, contemplating his words.
a smile slowly crept back onto your lips, "thank you, sebastian...i wish that made me feel better about it. i really do." he shared a sympathetic smile with you as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment before you continued. "but what about you? what are your plans?" his expression softened to a more playful one as he sat back in his seat, still holding your hand in his.
"oh, you know me. survive." you rolled your eyes at his lightheartedness, but your face looked anything but annoyed by his antics.
"at least you're not planning to leave me here alone."
he shook his head once more, "i'd never." your familiar blush returned, this time reaching your cheeks and nose. you were suddenly hyper-aware of how his hand felt as it held yours and your legs that tangled together under the table.
"so...just me and you then?" you couldn't force your eyes to meet his, as much as you wanted them to.
"against the world." if you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. something about that made your mind go blank and you suddenly couldnt find a clever remark to retort with. to fill the gap, you brought your own mug to your lip, taking a selfish sip. like sebastian's, it left a silly mustache on your lip. you didn't notice at first, caught up in your thoughts.
"oh, you've got a little..." he gestured to his mouth and you instantly knew. did you always have to make a fool of yourself in front of him? you wiped it with your thumb, but a little dribble remained at the corner of your mouth.
"here, let me." he gently brought his hand up to ghost over your cheek, wiping the leftover foam from your lip. you were sure now that your entire face was beet red from the contact.
you were back to searching your mind frantically for any response. luckily, you didn't need to find one, as someone had joined you at the edge of your table. once you looked up, you realized it was sirona ryan, the owner of the three broomsticks and seer of all, apparently. she held a generous slice of her signature chocolate cake with a dollop of whipped cream and two heart-shaped cherries on top.
"lover's special, on the house. you two have fun at the festival tonight." she placed the plate between the two of you. "not too much fun, though," she added with a wink. you and sebastian exchanged looks, and he was the first to speak.
"lovers special?" he chuckled bemusedly as he looked to you. "i mean, not that i'm one to say no to free cake or anything, but--" he was swiftly cut off by your foot meeting his shin beneath the table.
"thank you sirona," you added sweetly. she smiled politely and turned on her heel to return to the counter.
sebastian laughed, "ow! what was that for?" his playful expression quickly dropped once he saw you, your hands now withdrawn to your lap at you looked down it to it, picking at your nails. "hey, what's wrong?"
you answered meekly, "is it really that weird to think of me in that way?" he instantly felt terrible. you looked so hurt. "i thought maybe since..." you trailed off, sighing. "i don't know what i thought.
"no, no, that's not what i meant at all!" he quickly defended. "i just--i guess i was surprised by sirona's assumption, is all..." it was his turn to fall silent, trying desperately to find the words to say next.
he cleared his throat and asked gently, "do...do you think of me in that way?" he was almost afraid of saying it outright.
realizing there was no way out of this painfully awkward conversation, you were able to stutter out, "oh! i-- uhm, no! i mean--" you instantly covered your face with your hands, wanting to hide. "oh, merlin, i've ruined it, haven't i?" your voice was muffled as you hid behind your hands. he was quick to pull your hands away from your face and hold them in his own.
"you haven't ruined anything, promise. i'm just a bit confused." you took a deep breath, still avoiding his eyes. you felt so embarrassed.
"i just...i wanted this to be perfect, i wanted us to have butterbeer and look at all the shops and dance and maybe i could finally-- or maybe you would--...i don't know. i'm sorry, sebastian." you let your head fall again, refusing to look him in the eye. he only squeezed your hand comfortingly, finally feeling like he understood.
"hey," he outstretched his hand to tilt your head upward, finally meeting your eye. "if you wanted this to be a date..." he gulped down hard, feeling sweat prick his forehead. "i wouldn't mind that at all." you looked instantly relieved as the tension left your body.
"really?" he nodded, relazing a bit himself.
"really. i'm sorry it took me so long to say something. i didn't think you were interested."
"sebastian, i wouldn't do half the things i do for you if i weren't interested." you admitted, making him laugh heartily.
"and i wouldn't hold your books and walk you to class every day. those damned things are heavy!" you returned the chuckle, finally feeling calm again. unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes was watching the two of you and relishing in their successfull efforts. sirona ryan, unofficial dessert fairy and matchmaker, sometimes needed to give students a gentle push in the right direction. and they thanked her for that.
reblog if you made it to then end!
lmk if you want a part 2 cause i would be down.
#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy x reader#hogwarts legacy imagine#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy headcanon#sebastian sallow angst#sebastian x reader#sebastian x mc#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow fanfic#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow fluff#harry potter#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter hogwarts game#harry potter fluff#harry potter smut#harry potter imagine#sebblurb
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News travels fast in Hogwarts
Notes: This is a sort of spin-off to my Sexy Times with Sharp series. It needed some drama, I suppose. (Also can be read individually!)
This is the attempt of an interactive "adventure"! At the end of this post you'll have two options for how it may continue.
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader
Genre: Angst/Drama // Words: 3.8k // [READ ON AO3]
Synopsis: Sebastian finds out about your affair with a certain Potions Master.
WARNINGS: Angst! Drama, baby! Implied student/teacher relationship. Implied past relationship. ALL THE IMPLICATIONS! I just love implying things, okay? (MC might be losing it!)
News travels fast in Hogwarts
“So it's true?”
His voice caught you completely off guard, so much so that you shed your Disillusionment in shock. You had hoped to sneak out of the Faculty Tower unnoticed, and you would have, but then he had seen you.
“Sebastian? How did you –”
He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he watched you with his head tilted to the side. “Please, I taught you that spell.”
You stared at him before your gaze wandered along the hallway. Students passed in and out, but luckily nobody looked at you and the Slytherin boy twice. “What are you even doing here?” you hissed as you looked back at him, clenching your fists.
“I wanted to see if the rumours were true...” he said quietly.
“Rumours? What rumours?” you asked with an agitated scowl.
“Come on, don't play coy, love, it's quite obvious now, isn't it?” His eyes scrutinized you. There was a spark in them, and you didn't know if it was mischief or disgust.
You steeled yourself, squaring your shoulders, and even though you still remained at least a head smaller than him, you stared up at him with the darkest gaze you could muster. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
His eyebrow twitched when he held your gaze. “Just tell me why,” he then said, lowering his voice when a chattering group of students came down the staircase from the Gryffindor Tower.
“Why what?” You remained adamant in not telling him anything. Because it was none of his business.
He sighed and licked his lips before his gaze wandered over your head, and a dark grimace swept over his freckled face. “Honestly, why him?” he muttered, and you followed his eyes in confusion, then felt a searing heat rushing through you when you saw the tall man limping away into the other direction, oblivious to you and Sebastian discussing his very existence in your life.
Your head snapped back, and you stared at the Slytherin boy's chest in front of you, trying to force the blush down. Suddenly he grabbed your chin and made you look up at him, and you blushed even more, despite your best efforts not to. His brown eyes stared into your soul, and you bit your lip so hard you almost tasted blood.
“Was I not enough?” he then whispered, his thumb teasingly pressing against your bottom lip.
You froze, holding your breath, before you finally mustered the will to slap his hand away and take a step back. “Apparently...” you hissed at him breathlessly.
He looked almost hurt, then pushed his hands into his pockets and sighed. “You're playing with fire, you know that, right?” he said, his voice low and menacing.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you threatening me?” you asked quietly.
A frown creased his forehead. “I would never,” he said, tilting his chin up to look down his nose at you. “I'm just saying you should be careful.”
“How is this not a threat?” you snarled, staring at him.
“You know I would never expose your secrets,” he replied gently, his features softening slightly. “I swore that to you, and I still mean it. But... I might not be the only one who noticed this.”
You swallowed hard, looking away for a moment, your cheeks burning. “Who's spreading these rumours then?” you whispered under your breath, but he still heard you.
“Oh, just some jealous girls,” he said. “Those who want to be in your place, but can't.”
You looked up at him, chewing on your lips. “How obvious is it?” you then asked, the anger in your face switching to genuine concern.
He gave you one of those smirks that used to drive you crazy. “Well, you do spend a lot of time in his classroom... after class...”
“Others do too!” you said defensively. “We're allowed to study there!”
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “In his office, too?”
Something hot crawled into your stomach, clawing at your insides. Trying to play it off, you scoffed and turned away, shaking your head. Before you could storm off, his hand was on your shoulder, pulling you back as if you were just a leaf in the wind. You stumbled, staring up at him as you struggled to find your bearings.
“People heard you,” he then whispered as he leaned closer, his hot breath ghosting your cheek.
Your eyes widened, and a sudden cold crashed through your nerves. “You're lying,” you mumbled as you stared up at him, almost pleadingly, hoping he'd be joking.
“How do you think those rumours started?” he said and leaned back, putting his hands on his hips.
“No,” you mouthed and averted your gaze again, your face burning in shame.
“You've always been so vocal,” he whispered, a dreamy sigh falling from his lips. “I wish I could hear that again some day...”
You clenched your hands into fists and stared at your shoes, shaking from head to toe, tears burning in your eyes. “Don't be obscene,” you muttered, your voice trembling as well.
“You know, there's a way to disperse these rumours...” His voice was smooth and low, and it caused you to shiver deeply. He even stepped a little closer, his warm body inches away from yours.
You didn't dare look at him, but again, he made that choice for you as he put a finger under your chin and moved it up until your teary eyes met his. There was no malice or mischief in his gaze, just that familiar warmth you used to melt into. But those times were over, and you found solace in a different pair of eyes now.
He reached a hand up and cupped your face, his thumb wiping over your warm cheek, tracing the scar under your eye. A single tear slipped from your lashes, and he let it roll over his digit before he pressed the pad of his thumb along its trail. “Why did you ever leave me?” he then whispered, mesmerized by your glistening eyes for a moment, ignoring his previous train of thought.
You swallowed hard, blinking another tear away. “You... you left me,” you breathed hoarsely.
He cocked his head, pressing his lips into a thin line before he licked them. “I was in a bad place...”
Staring at him, you felt a strange pull in your stomach. “I was always there for you...” you whispered, furrowing your brows. He continued to stroke your cheek. “But you pushed me away...” you added with your lips quivering.
“And you let it happen,” he said, his tone becoming harder, colder.
“I tried, Sebastian,” you replied, inhaling sharply. “You made it really hard to stay with you... so, in the end, I was glad when you distanced yourself from me... when you let me go...”
“You were glad?” he hissed, his eyes dark when he stared at you. “So it's my fault you ended up with him?” he spat, his grip on your face tightening as he grabbed your hair.
You winced. “Don't do this...” you whispered, that lump in your throat growing.
“Do what? Fight for my girl?”
“I am not your girl,” you said through gritted teeth, slowly regaining your composure. Grabbing his wrist, you tried to pull his hand away, but his fingers remained tangled in your hair. “And don't think I'll come crawling back to you because you threaten to expose me!” you hissed under your breath, glaring up at him darkly. “I still hold all of your secrets, too, you know?”
He froze at your comment, his freckled face paling before his cheeks burned up, and he let go of your hair as if it had stung him. “You wouldn't dare,” he replied threateningly quietly, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “I just told you I wouldn't expose any of your dark and filthy secrets, and you remind me of... of...” His voice broke then, and he shook his head, taking deep breaths as he stepped away from you.
“I'm sorry,” you breathed. “I didn't mean to –” You sighed, shaking your head as well, angrily wiping at your face. “But you were playing dirty, cornering me like that? Judging me? What did you expect me to do? I'm no longer the silent follower, Sebastian, I won't just nod and play along and follow you to the end of the world...”
“Shame,” he muttered. “We had something, you know? Trust and understanding and...” He clenched his jaw so hard you were sure you heard the bones grind together. “Do you love him?” he then asked, staring at you with those damn puppy dog eyes.
You stared back, forcing the memories away that he had pulled into the forefront of your mind. “That is none of your business,” you said quietly, trying to sound neutral, but your voice was trembling badly.
He watched you, silently, his face set and grim.
Swallowing hard, you held his gaze, waiting for any other comment, before you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders. “I'm going to go now,” you stated then and turned around, feeling his stare burning into your back.
It took him five seconds and two long strides before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back so hard that you ended up pressed to his chest with his arms holding you tightly, leaving literally no room for debate.
You froze against him, painfully aware you were standing in the middle of the hallway with curious eyes staring at you as several students passed you by, whispering under their breaths.
You suddenly knew what he was doing. And you didn't know if you should be furious or grateful.
“Play along,” he breathed into your ear before he leaned back and cupped your cheeks with both hands, then slowly lowered his face towards yours and –
You were back in the Undercroft, the memory so strong you could smell the dust and mildew of the vast room. And you could feel Sebastian's lips on yours, warm, soft, wet, his tears mixing with yours, their salty taste only making you lean in closer as you kissed him desperately, never wanting to let go again, forcing him to stay by your side with your lips glued to his, your hands clawing at his robes, holding him together as he was falling apart.
He mirrored that same intensity now, years later, as he held you firmly in his grip, his lips searing hot against yours. And you couldn't do anything but let it happen. Your mind was racing, your heart aching, guilt creeping up your throat like bile, burning your insides. And yet you raised your hands and grabbed the back of his shirt, digging your fingers into the fabric, and held onto him as you eventually kissed him back.
When he leaned away a little to catch his breath, your tears were streaming down your flushed face. He wiped them away, gently holding you as he watched you closely. Your vision was blurry, and your mind switched between seeing Sebastian's face in front of you, and a weathered, grim, scarred one that made your knees shake and your stomach churn.
Your breath was as erratic as your heartbeat, your lips parted and trembling, your head spinning. The world around you was just a blur, all those whispers and stares melting away.
“Let me be your alibi,” you then heard him whisper as he leaned back in, his lips moving along your wet cheek to your ear and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire on your skin.
You took a shuddering breath, your head tilted to let him kiss your neck, nibble on it, suck on it, and you gasped when you felt his teeth sinking a little deeper into your skin. The sudden pain cleared your vision slightly, and you let go of him to press your hands against his chest. He looked at you, cheeks reddened, his dark eyes so intense you felt your legs trembling. “What are you doing?” you breathed, barely audible.
“Helping you disperse those rumours,” he whispered back, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.
You furrowed your brows, a sudden burst of anger crashing through you. “By making me look like an even bigger whore?” you said harshly through your teeth.
He frowned, genuinely taken aback by your words. “What? No, I...”
“The girl who can't decide, hm?” you hissed, your tone mocking, mirroring the many comments you'd heard behind your back. “Always back and forth, always crawling back to you, or to any man who's available, really, right? That's what they think I am... and that's what I'll always be...”
His gaze darkened before he looked over your head and around the hallway. Then he grabbed your wrist once more and pulled you along until he shoved you behind the statue of the One-Eyed Witch, his hand firmly on your mouth as he pinned you to the wall. Your eyes widened as he caged you in.
“Don't talk like that,” he hissed, staring down at you darkly.
You grabbed his wrist, and he let you pull his hand down. “But it's the truth, isn't it?” you whispered, more than aggravated now. “We were a mess, Sebastian. On and off for years... And there was always talk. Hell, the moment I stepped foot into this school, there had been talk. They always talked about me behind my back, no matter the reason. And I never cared, do you understand? Not when they thought I'd bewitched you, because why else would someone like you fall for someone like me, hm? Or when they thought I'd exchanged you for Ominis – which I never had, by the way?”
He listened to you intently, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. But he didn't interrupt you.
“Oh and when we finally broke up for real? Do you remember the rumours then, talking about, oh poor Sebastian, oh lucky Sebastian, he finally had enough of her. It was always in your favour, because I've always been the odd one out, the late bloomer, the special strange girl. I never wanted that, any of it, but I didn't have a choice. And I thought I could have an equal in you, someone who understood, because you were there from the very beginning. But you had your own baggage to carry – and I don't blame you for it, please know that! I never did, I wanted to help you carry it as much as I wanted you to help me navigate my own confusing life.”
You inhaled deeply and looked down, staring at his tie. He still only listened, his body unmoving as it pressed you to the wall, his hands loosely by his sides.
“But things don't always go the way you want them to go. And too much has happened... even though I thought we could be normal together.” You scoffed quietly. “Normal, whatever that is, right? I was never supposed to be normal, and so I embraced it, I let them talk. And it ate me up. We grew apart, and I let it happen because I couldn't fight anymore. It was too much, Sebastian...” Swallowing hard, you felt another tear roll down your cheek. “And... I suppose I was destined to create more rumours, eh? I didn't mean to, but somehow, I found him and he found me...”
A twitch went through his body then as he tensed up, his hands clenching into fists. You looked up cautiously, blinking your tears away. Your heart ached, and you raised a hand to clutch at the front of your shirt to calm it.
“He listened, he was there, he understood. It was easy to open up to him, he already knew half of my secrets, he'd watched me from the very beginning, too...” Your eyes wandered away, your mind showing you those dark eyes and the gentle half-smile that grazed a stoic face. “You know, maybe it was easy because he reminded me of you. He also has a lot of baggage, and maybe I am just drawn to those broken souls, who knows...”
You looked back into his brown eyes, noticing a slight change to his tense, angry expression, his face was solemn, but in a strangely warm way.
“I never meant to hurt you,” you continued quietly. “I didn't do this out of spite, okay? I needed time for myself, and he gave me the confidence to look ahead and not back. And I helped him too, we are helping each other. And I don't care about rumours, I honestly don't. Let them talk...”
“They could burst your perfect little bubble so easily, don't you see that?” he finally said, his voice low and grave, any trace of warmth gone again. “Seeing a teacher,” he whispered darkly, your heart jumping as he finally named it, “being... intimate with a teacher, sneaking into his quarters...” He shook his head, a gesture full of disappointment. “It could get you expelled, it could lose him his job, ruin both of your reputations, it could make you even unhappier than you were before.”
“I –”
“Don't say you don't care, you do! Of course you do, you would be a fool if you didn't!” he replied harshly under his breath, leaning his head closer to yours until his forehead was pressed against your own.
You stared at him, his hot breath brushing against your trembling lips. “So what? What do you expect me to do? Stop it all, come crawling back to you?” you said through your teeth.
“Why do you make that sound like it's the worst thing that could happen to you?” he whispered back, clenching his jaw.
The sudden darkness that surrounded him made you want to back away, turn your face away, bring any distance between him and you, but he only grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You stared back, anger rising inside your throat. “Because that's what it would be,” you spat coldly.
He leaned his head back, but kept his hand on your chin, his eyes dark and dangerous. “You don't mean that...”
Narrowing your eyes, you gritted your teeth, your entire body tensing up against his. “Let me go, Sebastian,” you then whispered in defeat, putting all the meaning into your words.
He looked at you, long and hard, then finally took a tiny step back, lowering his hand. But he still kept you pinned between his body and the wall. “Never again,” he breathed darkly.
“Don't you want me to be happy?” you said quietly, a small sob emerging from your throat.
“I want you to be happy in my arms,” he said, “not his.”
You took a shuddering breath, goosebumps rippling over your skin. His intensity had always been your downfall. Slowly, you raised a hand and placed it on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering against your palm. “I won't leave him, he doesn't deserve that,” you whispered while your eyes wandered over his freckled face. “He needs me as much as I need him...”
“I need you, too,” he mouthed barely audible, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
You felt your eyes watering, the sadness in his dark gaze almost tearing you apart from the inside. “I... I chose him,” you whispered with your voice shaking badly.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
He looked down then and closed his eyes, taking another step back from you. Your hand fell to your side, the distance between you and him growing again. You remained leaning against the wall, watching him with your heart racing and your mind spinning.
He turned around, and you saw him peering past the bump of the statue. “If...” he started, looking back at you over his shoulder, “if you ever change your mind...” he whispered, letting his words hang in the air for a moment.
“I know where to find you,” you finished the thought and nodded.
His eyes roamed your face, full of sorrow and longing, and you had to clench your hands into fists and press your back into the wall to not jump him right there and then. The pull he still had on you was frightening. Eventually he looked away and stepped out of the niche and onto the hallway, and you saw him taking the stairs down to the dungeons, leaving your line of sight.
It took you a very long time to compose yourself again. When you finally emerged from behind the One-Eyed Witch, your legs were trembling, and you stood in the hallway for a moment, watching the flow of students move up and down the Grand Staircase, the thrum of chatter and stone grinding against stone lulling your racing thoughts.
Eventually you made your way to the Great Hall, and while you walked, you couldn't help but hear those whispers again. You had tried for months, for years, to ignore them, but now they seemed even louder. The stares seemed darker, more hostile, some even more condescending. You felt your heart sink, but kept going until you reached the large oak doors.
You had lost your appetite the moment you had pushed them open, and you felt your entire stomach drop when you were suddenly staring up into two very dark eyes in a weathered face full of scars and wrinkles – and disappointment. Your lips moved, forming a silent “No...” as a group of laughing students passed you, giving you knowing looks full of malice.
News travels fast in Hogwarts.
It was only a few seconds before you were left standing again, his tall body limping past you, his face tense, his jaw clenched. You felt like crying, like bursting at the seams, so on edge you were shaking like a leaf. Once you could move again, you whirled around, watched him leave – and then you witnessed him stopping once more, this time staring at a tall brown-haired boy whose freckled face paled.
Suddenly both of them were looking at you, their gazes like ice shards piercing your very soul. Whispers grew louder around you, comments like daggers aimed at your heart. You heard your own breaths echoing in your ears, loud, panicked, horrified. Something squeezed your throat, your vision blurred...
...and you woke up with a silent gasp, a jerk rushing through your limbs, pushing you back against a warm body. Strong arms held you tightly, and you inhaled deeply, your heart thundering inside your chest.
Just a dream, you thought, but you were soon torn between feeling relieved and absolutely disturbed at how real it had all felt. A very strange dream. Slowly you turned your head towards the person lying behind you. It had been just a dream, right?
End notes: Ohh, evil author, IT WAS JUST A DREAM!!! Or was it? And who's lying behind her, hm? Well, that is totally up to you! I just wanted to write some angst, sorry.
You can now decide how this story will continue! In whose arms will she wake up? What will happen?
→ Option 1: You wake up in the arms of Aesop Sharp
→ Option 2: You wake up in the arms of Sebastian Sallow
[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]
#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fic#sebastian sallow fanfic#sebastian sallow oneshot#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow angst#angst#drama#reader insert#fem reader#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fic#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy oneshot
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hey! I had an idea how the HL characters would react if they saw that F!MC had abs.
F!MC would be all teasing and flirting at the same time.
Ominis would have felt it the most because he would have to feel it to see it.
Professor Fig would definitely think about his younger years. ( proud father )
HLC REACT TO MUSCULAR F!MC
Due to the modest dress code of the time period, MC did not have many opportunities to display her muscles publicly. However, when it was just her and her companion in the middle of the woods and she needed to retrieve something from the bottom of a small lake, she sure as hell wasn't diving in wearing three layers of clothes.
SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He arches an eyebrow as MC suddenly disrobes. "Merlin's beard, woman. If you wanted it that bad, all you had to do was say so." He laughs at MC's glare of indignation. The tone of MC's muscles is quite unexpected, but not entirely surprising. He's been traveling around the valley with them for a while and he's seen them toss enemies around without magic. He's a tiny bit jealous, honestly.
OMINIS GAUNT: "What are you doing?" All he can detect Is that MC is shuffling around in place. He doesn't put two and two together until they jump into the water. They were naked, or nearly so. Oh dear. Thoughts of their body invade his mind and he blushes furiously, trying to shoo them away. They've given him many a strong hug and he can't help but wonder what it would be like to feel their body after they come out of the water.
ANNE SALLOW: "Merlin's beard!" She quickly covers her eyes. "Kindly give me some warning, would you?" Her words may come out a bit sharper than she intends, but it's not out of disgust. No, it's the opposite. MC's body is very lovely and tempting but she doesn't want to be rude with staring. She peeks just before MC dives in.
IMELDA REYES: "Showing off, are you?" She snidely comments as her eyes elevator across MC. When MC confidently smiles and winks back at her, she flushes red and looks away. "My abs are better..." She mutters to herself.
NATSAI ONAI: "Oh, wow." She's transfixed. She always knew MC was strong in the figurative sense, but she had no idea how well it translated literally. MC looked like she could pull a carriage single-handed. If MC teases, she gets all giggly and too hot to wear her own robe.
GARRETH WEASLEY: Once he gets over the shock that MC is half naked in front of him, uppies. Doesn't matter how tall MC is. He wants uppies. MC looks like they could throw him in that lake if they wanted to. He is a happy man in the arms of a strong woman. Take care of him and he is the most loyal of golden retriever boyfriends.
LEANDER PREWETT: Nearly screams when MC starts stripping. He turns away and refuses to turn around. What would his mother say if she knew he saw a girl so undressed? It's indecent! It's scandalous! It's.... it's tempting. He can still see their reflection in the water. His face is as red as his hair. MC was going to be the death of him.
AMIT THAKKAR: His hand flies up to the side of his head to block MC from sight. "What are you-!?" His breathing hitched as more and more clothing piled on the shore. How was MC so calm about this? His heart was going mad. When they resurface, he helps them back to shore, but tries to keep his eyes shut. When they kiss his cheek in thanks for being such a gentleman, his eyes fly open in shock and he takes them in. They're the very depiction of beauty.
EVERETT CLOPTON: Surprisingly chill about the whole thing. He catches every article of clothing thrown at him so MC's robes don't sit in the dirt, and waits patiently for them to resurface with whatever they were trying to retrieve from the bottom of the lake. See, he's being smart. The less of a deal he makes about it, he figures the more comfortable MC will be about doing this in the future. Therefore, he will see more of that lovely body of theirs. Big brain.
POPPY SWEETING: She is staring unabashedly. Muscle Mommy may not be a term in the 1890s, but she's about to invent it. She has heart eyes. She might be drooling. Tease her and she might just faint.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy reactions#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#imelda reyes#anne sallow#natsai onai#garreth weasley#leander prewett#amit thakkar#everett clopton#poppy sweeting#f!mc
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hii congrats on 3k you deserve it!!! i love your works so much you're one of my favorite writers here <3 can i request for the event yeonjun + howl's moving castle + fluff and smut ? love you <3
NOW SHOWING...
pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: fantasy, fluff, smսt
wc: 3.2k
details + warnings: minors + blank/ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked, yeonjun as howl (take these two pics for reference,, phew), mc as sophie (but no defining physical features are described besides silver hair), this takes place after the events of the movie aka flying castle era, light dom/sub dynamics, vv soft sex, oral (f receiving), they are so in love it's sickening honestly
notes: starting this event off strong with one of my ults paired with one of my favorite movies...*visibly quaking* and ilyt nonnie <3 you're the sweetest
humming to yourself, you amble down the cobblestone path of a town far from the one that you once considered home. your dress brushes against your legs as you continue forward, the soft fabric rustled by a cool, gentle breeze characteristic of spring. above, clouds drift about the cerulean sky, the sun's rays gentle and warm where they kiss your skin. you soon spot the door that you had first emerged from when you had set out to complete a handful of errands earlier in the afternoon.
your focus on the door falters at the mouth watering scent wafting from a nearby stall, something saccharine and warm. perhaps one more stop is in order, you find yourself thinking as you part from your original path. your feet lead you over to the older woman overseeing the small stand surrounded by other passersby nibbling at the sweets she sells. the crow's feet around her eyes appear when she smiles at you, her chin-length hair a similar silver hue to your own.
“hello, my dear,” she greets, her voice soft and worn with time. as she continues, her hands work in tandem to package some of the treats that had lured you over. “how may i help you?”
you offer her a polite smile while you request four of the small, half-moon pastries filled with molasses-rich sugar and chopped nuts. steam rises from the ones that have just finished cooking, ready to be packaged for awaiting customers. she nods at you, smiling, as she quickly wraps up and hands the fresh ones off to a woman and her two young children to your left. the youngest hums in delight once he takes a bite, and the three of them head off down the road.
“your hair is quite beautiful, dear,” she says, the twinkle in her eyes signifying the truthfulness of her words as you place the correct amount of coins into her awaiting palm. “i’ve never seen someone so young with such a shade. it suits you well.”
“oh, thank you! that is very kind of you to say,” you reply, your soft voice imbued with surprise. while most do not comment, you have witnessed firsthand the gawking and stares of judgement that your hair has garnered in your travels. the hue is a reminder of the curse you once endured, but the fond memories it brings forth far outweigh any negative reactions you have received thus far. warmth fills your chest at the compliment.
she wraps and hands you your own pastries seconds later. bowing your head slightly, you voice your gratitude before you realize she has given you one extra. you attempt to hand one back to her, the others tucked into the basket hanging off of your arm. “ma’am, i believe you may have given me one too many—”
“nonsense,” she winks, pushing your hand back towards you. “consider it a gift.”
guilt swirling in your stomach, you try to hand her another coin. however, she refuses, shooing you away from her stand with well-wishes of safe travels. with a final shallow bow and kind words in return, you depart from the stall, your steps light and springy.
embarrassingly giddy after the sweet interaction, you scurry down the street much quicker now, eager to return home. home — it is what you used to call your family's hat shop, but now...now, home is what you call yeonjun, his youthful apprentice, kai, calicfer, heen, even the witch of the waste. they are your home, and nothing could ever exceed the joy that that truth brings you.
you remove one of the pastries from your basket, unwrapping it to take a bite, eyes widening at the sweet, syrupy taste that coats your tongue. delicious is the sole word that comes to mind. the warm delicacy only serves to heighten your mood, and it is long gone before you even reach your destination. you are tempted to reach for another, but decide against it. a hand wraps around the knob and twists, and suddenly, you are no longer in the town, but soaring high above in yeonjun's — and now, too, your own — flying castle.
“i’m home!” you call as you enter, using the heel of your boot to swing the wooden door closed behind you. though he is no longer confined to the hearth, calcifer sits there anyway; it has become habit after his years bound to yeonjun.
“oh, look who’s decided to come back!” he exclaims, flames growing brighter at the sight of you. “yeonjun’s been sulkin’ in his room since ya left — i’ve been dyin’ of boredom out here!”
you breathe a laugh at calcifer’s dramatics, looking for the young boy who is usually around when you return. “where is kai?”
“out. more magical apprentice-y tasks to do, i guess,” he replies, inspecting you as you set the basket down with pursed lips. “why the long face?”
“i got him a sweet from a stall, and it’s still hot,” you hum, beginning to place the produce and other items that you purchased onto the table. “i suppose you will have to warm it up for him later.”
“do i look like some kinda servant?” he asks, indignant. he continues to ramble about his now free status and how he doesn’t need to listen to you while you continue to remove items from your basket, placing the four remaining pastries to the side.
huffing, you finally wave the firewood you had bought for him. “how about now?”
calcifer gasps at the sight, his small arms appearing to beckon you over. he scoffs, “alright, c’mon, i’ll do it. should’ve just said you had that first.”
you swiftly gather a decent amount of wood in your arms and head over to him, handing him one after another to greedily chomp down. with each one, he grows a bit larger, brighter, his glowing yellow center expanding.
“at this rate, i’ll start likin’ ya better than yeonjun,” the fire demon claims through a mouthful of lumber, snatching another piece from the now dwindling pile that you hold.
“you already do, just admit it,” you quip, grinning down at him.
“admit what?” an inimitably deeper voice asks. head whipping around, you find yeonjun leaning against the doorway, lips quirked up in a smirk with his arms folded across his broad chest. a loose, white blouse envelopes his torso and is tucked into primly tailored trousers.
“oh, nothing for you to fret over,” you tease, well aware that he likely heard the vast majority of the conversation. he tuts, striding over to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, his chin coming to rest upon your shoulder as you present calcifer with the final piece of wood from your makeshift heap. the ends of his hair tickle your skin. he hums something low and quiet, pressing his soft, plump lips against your neck. calcifer, in turn, emits a nauseated heave.
“if ya gonna act all lovey dovey around me, i’ll just leave,” the ball of flame huffs, beginning to float in the air.
yeonjun chuckles, his arms pulling you tighter against him. “no need. i was meaning to steal this one away from you, anyway.”
“oh, great! just wonderful!” he sneers, sinking back down to the stone hearth and glowering at the man who leads you back towards the doorway. “spare my ears while ya at it!”
once you are alone, yeonjun wastes no time in pressing you against his silken bedsheets. he balances himself above you with a single forearm, his hips tucked between your parted thighs and hiked up dress. his lips waste no time in enveloping your own. slow, languid — he takes great care in savoring you, ensuring that you are as close as possible with his free hand cupping your cheek. his cheeky tongue slips into your mouth to curl against yours, causing you to exhale a muffled whine.
before you are able to slide your hands up his shoulders and around the back of his neck, he pulls away. staring up at him, you find chestnut eyes brimming with adoration. the sight of his disheveled hair and shiny, kiss-bruised lips sends flurries of butterflies through your stomach.
"“you taste so sweet, love,” he murmurs as he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. his words dissipate the heady fog creeping into your mind, and you reach up to grab his hand.
“the pastries!” you exclaim with wide eyes. attempting to sit up, you gently push him back onto his knees. you catch the furrow of his brow, the pout forming on his lips, and you move to explain. “i purchased pastries for us to try while i was out — the stall owner even gave me one more for free! isn’t that delightful?”
yeonjun blinks. hard. how you are whining into his mouth one moment and growing distracted by sweets the next is quite beyond him, but it nonetheless causes an endeared smile to pull at the corners of his lips.
“you should try it while they’re still hot! i’ll go fetch one for you,” you continue, mistakenly taking his grin for excitement. swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stand and begin to scurry over to his bedroom door, him rising from the bed going unnoticed.
despite your newfound goal, your lover does not allow you to stray too far, catching you by the waist and pulling you back against him. his fingers weave together against your stomach, locking you in his embrace, unable to wriggle away.
“don’t leave me,” he pleads, and though you are unable to see it from your position, his tone betrays the pout that he sports. “i feel as if we haven’t seen each other in ages.”
“i’ve only been away for a few hours. you have survived much longer,” you giggle, reaching up to run your fingers through his onyx hair while he kisses up your neck, nipping the skin where you are most sensitive. you allow a quiet moan to escape, a shuddered breath following soon after when he does not halt his ministrations. attempting to pry his hands off, you say, “i’ll be just a minute, if you would let me go.”
whining in protest with his nose nuzzled against your jaw, his grip grows ironclad, the space between your bodies diminishing — and that is when you feel it: the hardness that presses snugly against your rear. heat floods your cheeks at the realization, and your struggle to escape comes to an abrupt end. “love, the pastry—”
“i’ll try it later. i’d much rather taste you at the moment,” he interrupts, voice low and breathy against your ear. the sheer desperation in his voice causes heat to pulse in your center.
he pulls you back to bed with ease, aiding you in your descent to the sheets. his hands bunching the skirt of your dress up reveals your stocking-clad legs, the fabric squeezing the meat of your thighs in a way that causes him to gulp. he slips his body between your legs, a position reminiscent of mere minutes ago, taking his time in running his hands up and down sensitive skin of your inner thighs, traveling dangerously close to your covered center. goosebumps raise beneath his fingers as a shiver slinks down your spine.
while his actions are drenched in admiration mixed with a soft sense of desire, it is too much for you to bear. overwhelmed with bashfulness, you hide your face in your hands. above you, your lover tuts, as if dissapointed with your choice. prying your hands away, he gathers your wrists and presses them into the bed above your head.
“keep your hands there,” he orders, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with need. “or else i will stop.”
your heart skips a beat in your chest at his order, but you nod nevertheless. he simpers at your obedience.
“that’s my girl.”
and suddenly the desire to melt into a puddle washes over you. the words bring you back to the first day that you had encountered him; when he had saved you from two sleazy soldiers, flew you over the town square and helped you to a balcony before disappearing. that day, you had no inkling of just how drastically your life would change. how fate has landed you here, below that very man, in love with him...you have expressed your gratitude to whatever it is above countless times.
truly, you never thought of yourself to be one for praise, but your time with yeonjun thus far has unlocked a myriad of preferences you had never given a second thought to before. as the words echo in your head, you bite your lip to muffle a tiny whine.
chuckling, he lowers himself onto his stomach so that he is eye level with your center. a finger skates over the seam of your panties, sliding up your slit to press against your awaiting bud. all the while, his plump kiss and suckle their way up your thigh until he's nosing at the crease of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds. pulling away, he helps you slip the thin, soaked fabric from you with teasing touches until you are bare from the waist down, sans your stockings.
at the sight of your glistening core, he licks his lips, taking in the way you clench around nothing. you feel terribly exposed, like a sculpture in the center of a gallery, unable to hide. he coos at your trembling state. ever so sensitive, his little doe, even after so long. holding you open, his gaze travels back up past your heaving chest to your flustered face.
“eyes on me, sweetheart. want you to watch me.” he locks his gaze with yours as he dips down to trace your folds with tongue, reveling in the way your brow furrows and your lips part, teeth grazing your bottom lip for a moment. yeonjun is nothing if not a tease, however; he continues to repeat the same movements until you are battling with the urge to snap your eyes shut and burrow your head into the sheets, until you are pleading with him for more. conceding, he dips down to your entrance only to moan at your taste. yes, this is what he has been craving all day. his tongue dips inside for a moment before he licks a bold stripe up to your clit, his eyes fluttering closed while he takes his time in working you up. you cry out as the tip of his tongue slides under the hood, toying with the tiny bundle of nerves with practiced confidence. his lips do not stray far behind, wrapping around and sucking hard, basking in the choked moan you emit in response.
but it's not enough.
he pulls away for a moment, hands squeezing your thighs. when you finally meet his gaze, he finds tears lining your bottom lashes, little dewdrops that cause your eyes to shine brighter.
“sing for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft and hypnotizing. “as loud as you desire. when we’re in this room, no one can hear you but me.”
then, without waiting for your foggy brain to register his words, he dives back in with increased vigor, his lone goal being to make you fall apart, to cause you to let go those silly inhibitions that keep you as quiet as a mouse. he is more than pleased at the cries that follow.
while he loses himself in tasting you, you are falling apart. white-hot pleasure burns in the center of your stomach, a fire that grows hotter and brighter and causes you to grip the sheets harder with paled knuckles. it winds around you and spreads across the entirety of your being. with a mist-shrouded mind, all you can do is take what he provides, grinding against his lips. despite his warning from earlier, you reach down to thread your fingers through his hair and tug. this, evidently, sets him off; more beast than human, he devours you whole. he wants — no, needs your release. cum for me, darling, please cum for me — an unspoken plea, conveyed by his zealous tongue and lips, his grip on your thighs nearly bruising. and you listen, you listen so well despite his silence, the pleasure building and building and building and—
you shatter.
wailing, a supernova of pleasure overwhelms your body and soul, hot tears rolling streaming down your cheeks. your body no longer has a beginning nor an end — you feel as though you are floating above the bed rather than laying upon it, looking down at yourself, at the man betwixt your thighs, the care with which he extracts every drop of pleasure from your center, the patience he exudes while he delivers you back down to your true existence, back to him.
slowly, so very slowly, you return back to yourself, weary eyes fluttering open to find him hovering above you. his pupils hold profound concern, the rhythmic circling of his thumb against your cheek soothing to your mind. he's frowning, and you can see the gears spinning inside his head, wondering if he had finally gone too far.
“jjunie,” you whisper with an exhausted yet lovesick grin, pulling him close so that your foreheads press together — and with the melodic sound of your endearing nickname for him, the doubt, the guilt, festering deep in his chest vanishes. you spend a few moments gazing at each other, and you use the edge of your nail to trace his beauty marks while you bask in the presence of one another; just you and him, him and you.
leaning up, you capture his lips, something soft and sweet and unhurried that causes your heart to pound against your ribcage. the heart — it can be such a fickle thing, always changing, always setting its sights on shiny, new things. yes, it can be quite fickle, but nothing can dispute the undeniable truth of your eternal, immutable love for yeonjun, and his for you. you may change your routines and what you eat and the tunes you sing, but your love is forever frozen in time. “find me in the future,” is what you once exclaimed to him, and he had done just that — and so, so much more.
despite your exhausted mind, you find yourself craving more. the hardness of his cock presses into your thigh, and you grind slightly into him. he stares down at you, lips parted, silently inquiring if you are okay: are you sure you would like to continue? it's a wordless exchange, the way you reach down to stroke him over his trousers, the cheeky bite of your lip. with that, the mischievous grin he wore previously returns.
“you’re absolutely insatiable,” he laughs, returning his lips to your neck.
“oh, please. you were the one who wanted this in the first place,” you tease back before you’re squealing at the sound of ripping fabric. “yeonjun!”
“i shall mend it later,” he shrugs, eyes darkening as he greedily takes in your now bare bosom. “right now, however, there are much more pressing matters.”
perhaps the pastries can wait a wee bit a longer.
3k event masterlist | main masterlist
© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
#txt smut#yeonjun smut#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#txt imagines#yeonjun imagines#txt fluff#yeonjun fluff#agust.nsfw#3k milestone celebration#💌 — jjun
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Darlinggg, I’m desperate for some fluffy, soft Sebastian, maybe it’s the weekend and Seb and MC stayed in the RoR overnight so they’re just chilling in bed and they have like the softest s*x ever like their hands are intwined together, their bodies are so close and pressed up against each other, their breaths and moans are in each other’s ears and mouths and then they discuss their plans for the day, just doing cutesy stuff together and maybe in the evening they hang out with their friends and they’re all like “GET A ROOM” but they’re just so completely and utterly in love with each other they don’t give a damn what their friends say even though their friends are really happy for them… 🥹🩵
This is a yummy Ask 🥰 This is off the charts fluff! (With a dash of spice - it is Sebastian after all)
Sebastian Sallow x F!MC ❤️🔥
She was hot. She blinked and opened her eyes sleepily, her face pressed close to the smooth expanse of a freckled back. She shifted, sliding a leg out from the under the blanket, the cooler air of the room washing over her skin.
Sebastian was still asleep, the steady pace of his breathing the only sound in the room. The fire had died down in the fireplace, and they were secluded away in her bedroom inside the Room of Requirement. The only light was the soft glow of dawn filtering through the window.
MC stretched luxuriously, her muscles protesting after the work out Sebastian had put her through last night. She grinned, savouring the ache in places she didn't even know she had muscles.
Her gaze fell to his back, peeking under the blanket to travel down to the jut of his hip bones. There were red finger marks scored there and she bit her lip. Things had been rather heated last night between them.
Moving carefully, MC slipped from the bed, still naked, and tiptoed across to a table where a pitcher of water stood. She poured some into a goblet, leaning her hips back against the table to watch him sleep as she sipped.
His hair was rumpled, dark against the white of the pillow. His lips were slightly parted, relaxed, his face smooth and peaceful. She smiled, admiring the thick curve of his eyelashes, knowing the warmth of mischievous, brown eyes that lay hidden beneath.
She swallowed thickly, her brow creasing with powerful emotion as she gazed upon him, this man in her bed. Merlin, how she loved him.
It chilled to her think how she could have lost him back in 5th year. How they would have missed out on everything they had shared ever since. Soon, they would be graduating, moving on to their fully adult lives. Knowing he would be beside her made it seem less scary.
Missing the warmth of him already, she put down her goblet, and padded softly back to the bed. Rather than curl up back where she had been, she lifted the blanket and climbed in to face him. He stirred at the movement, rubbing his face into the pillow and automatically reaching out an arm to scoop her in close. He didn't open his eyes, but his lips curved upwards as she snuggled into his embrace.
Her nose was against the hollow of his throat, she grazed the tip of it against his skin, inhaling gently. The scent of him was familiar, safe, utterly addictive. Her lips parted and her breath fanned against his collar bone. She felt the warmth unfurl outwards from her core. She couldn't imagine a time where she wouldn't want him.
Softly, the most gentle of touches, she pressed her lips into the hollow of his throat. A kiss of reverence, a precious show of her heart. It wasn't enough.
Her mouth moved, inch by inch, tasting his skin with soft kisses. She shifted, moving higher to press her love against his jaw, the slightest show of morning stubble grazing the soft tenderness of her lips. She brushed her lips from side to side, the gentle scratch sending tingles of fire on her sensitive mouth.
A low hum of appreciation sounded in his throat and he smoothed a hand up her back, his fingers teasing at her neck before twisting gently into her tousled hair. She looked up at him but his eyes were still closed.
"Don't stop," he whispered. "That feels nice."
She smiled. Her lips found an ear lobe, her teeth grazing ever so slightly before she kissed beneath it, her nose tickled by his hair. She moved to his ear itself, her slow, even breaths grazing the sensitive shell. She felt him shiver, her hand smoothing up his arm and feeling the goosebumps she had awoken.
She whispered into his ear. "I love you."
The hand curled in her hair at the nape of her neck tightened. He tugged her head back slightly to look at her, his eyes now open, sleepy and beyond adorable. He smirked. "Damn right, you love me."
She huffed a small laugh and pressed the tip of her nose to his. "I mean it," she said. Her eyes burned into his. "Loving you compares to nothing else. It will always be you."
The smirk slid from his lips, his hand coming to cup her face, his thumb grazing across her cheekbone. His eyes grew serious, the depths filled with an emotion that stole the air from her lungs. It was powerful, like the whole world outside this room had vanished. It was them, only them, and that was all that mattered. "I love you too," he rasped.
It was almost too much, how strong the connection was. She pressed her mouth against his, seeking a way to release the feeling in her chest. They kissed, slowly, deeply. His tongue slid so softly against hers she was practically melting under the torturous need it conjured.
She pushed a hand against his shoulder, rolling him to his back, and climbed on top of him. He brushed the hair back from her face, their lips hungry for each other. But it wasn't like last night, this was different. This time it wasn't a desperate need, it was like worship.
When Sebastian broke the kiss for a breath, the warmth of his lungs expelled into her mouth and it was like giving her life. He was her life. Her everything.
His touch inspired fire under her skin, her hips grinding instinctively against him, the swell of his arousal making her breath come a little faster, her lungs aching to breathe him in.
The natural joining of their bodies made her moan, the thick slide of him, grinding deep into the most secret parts of her, made her head tilt back, lips parted. His hands smoothed over her breasts, his lidded eyes roving over skin he knew so well, but still craved to explore.
She rolled her hips, stretching around him, her movement slow, reverent. Her ears were filled with the sounds he made, his pleasure her reward. She looked down at him, catching his gaze, she wanted him to see her. His hands caught hers, their eyes locked as he linked their fingers, holding on to each other as she moved above him.
Sebastian's lips had never looked so kissable, damp and parted, the sounds coming from them making her heat coil tighter. She angled her hips, sliding for longer, rocking slightly to tease his tip. His hips flexed, his eyes squeezing shut, a curse spilling from his mouth.
His need got the better of him and he flipped her, her hair spreading out across the bed, his hand sliding with hers above her head. He kissed her, slow, hungry, and then he began to thrust. Slow, long, deep thrusts, her hips tilting to meet him, a rhythm building to match the fire.
When MC hit the edge, her mind spun, legs trembling, a cry leaving her lips, the shudder of his own release joining hers. Panting, he pressed his forehead to hers, needing that contact with her. There was no need for words. Their bodies had said it all.
....*....
Bathed, dressed, and eating from a plate on her lap, she met his gaze. He smiled, eating from his own plate. If only they could stay in this bubble forever.
They cleaned up, and MC began to tidy up the books scattered on the table top. Sebastian caught her hand and pulled her to his chest, he pulled out his wand and flicked it towards the gramophone in the corner. The soft melody of the cylinder began to fill the room. "Dance with me," he said.
She giggled and let him twirl her around, his hand seeking out the small of her back. She smiled up at him. "What shall we do for the rest of the day?"
He quirked his eyebrows and placed a kiss on her lips. "Plenty of these," he murmured against her mouth. He kissed her again.
They moved across the carpet, bodies so in tune, their movements fluid. It was like this when they were duelling, when they took to their bed, two halves of a whole meeting in harmony.
The rest of their day was spent with meaningless tasks, just time spent in each other's company without the pressure of the school day. Of course, Sebastian claimed his kisses, and she gave them willingly.
Later, as evening moved into twilight, they met with their friends, leaving the comfort of their bubble to touch the outside world for a bit. It was good to laugh, tease and joke, enjoy their friendships with people who would soon drift off into their own adult lives too.
MC glanced across at Sebastian, a smile shared between them. She moved to sit with him, their fingers seeking each other out, linking together. She leant her head on his shoulder and felt his lips on her hair.
Poppy caught her eye and grinned. "You two are so cute," she sighed.
Sebastian held her closer, his lips moving to her cheek. The others groaned and Garreth gave Sebastian's shoulder a playful dig. "Bloody hell, get a room."
MC looked up at Sebastian, their eyes meeting. They already had a room, a secret shared, and they would most definitely be returning there tonight. Their friends could make digs all they wanted. She wasn't going to stop appreciating what she had.
....*....
Many years later, when the grey was beginning to show in her hair, and her children were grown, MC would often think back to those days in the Room of Requirement. The memory of that morning, when the dawn light had fell softly on Sebastian sleeping, and she had gone to him, feeling that love for him in her chest. She had known then, that day, that it would be forever.
Sitting in her chair by the fire, her knitting in her lap, her husband in the chair opposite, dozing with the newspaper slipping from his lap, she knew she had been given a blessed life.
It had started with chaos, battles and shadows of dark magic, but out of that had come her love for him. Sebastian had given her a life she had thought existed in dreams, and for that she would always be thankful.
The sunlight filtered through the window, the glow of it warm on his face. His face may have aged, but she still loved to see the peacefulness of him in his sleep. She set her knitting aside, and got up, moving to put a hand on his shoulder. He blinked and looked up at her, those eyes still warm and mischievous. "Everything alright, my love?" He asked.
She smiled. "Fancy a cuppa? I'm about to put the kettle on."
"It's like you read my mind," he said. He patted her hand with his.
She moved to make the tea, a smile on her lips, and he rustled the newspaper, adjusting the pages. Two people, comfortable in their little bubble, two halves of a whole living in harmony.
#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow#mc x sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow fanfiction#blueraineshadows
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Big Brained
There's nothing wrong with being feral for one's husband, right? Sloane can't help it, especially when Sebastian shows off that big, sexy brain of his.
✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), exactly one spank, and some Sebastian dirty talk. 2.5k words
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Reblogs, comments, and kudos are always appreciated! ✨
The last place Sloane wants to be is the Ministry of Magic.
She has managed to avoid a permanent place at Whitehall, despite Minister Spavin’s constant and personal invitations for her to join their ranks. Her answer is always no—she does not want a career in the wizarding world’s government, preferring her freedom and whatever anonymity she has left. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her husband, who is technically under their employment, contracted to work as a curse-breaker with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
At twenty, Sebastian is young, but incredibly talented, and one of the Auror’s greatest assets. He is usually in some far-off destination, exploring ancient tombs and collecting artifacts with a rag-tag crew, helping to chase down Dark Wizards and undo any havoc caused. Sloane travels with the group as an unofficial healer, treating mysterious and mundane wounds while researching remedies both magical and muggle. They are a dynamic duo of sorts, and the Ministry knows that the Sallows are a package deal, the bond inseparable—unbreakable.
After spending the last three months in the Austrian wilderness, they are back in London to receive a new assignment. Sloane spends the morning checking in on their dusty flat and shares a few cups of tea with Poppy in the local shoppe before venturing back to the second floor to find Sebastian. Even though he is rarely in-office, the Aurors keep a room clear for his use, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of what she calls the ‘bull-pen’.
Sloane can hear a few familiar voices as she approaches the open door, peeking her head in to see Sebastian in the middle of a fervent discussion with two of the officers who accompanied them in Salzburg. The other men don’t seem to notice her presence, but her husband acknowledges her entrance with a quick glance, the corner of his mouth twitching up before he refocuses his attention.
“Have the scouts reported back?”
“Yes, sir,” Jeffries, the older and more skeptical Auror replies. Sir—Sloane sees the subtle pride in Sebastian’s expression, even if the title causes her to bite back a laugh. Jeffries continues, “the rumors about increased activities on the Nordic coast are true. Intelligence suggests a small, but powerful group of heretics are attempting to locate bloodrunes, magic the Ministry hasn’t encountered in…centuries.”
That you know of, Sloane muses to herself as she idly peruses the nearby bookshelf, overflowing much like the shelves at home.
“Bloodrunes require significant power to activate,” Sebastian states, not bothering to specify if this knowledge is based on first-hand experience or not. He leans over the map spread out across the desk and traces a finger along the supposed site. “There are probably laylines that can be disrupted, but I won’t speculate until I see the area for myself.”
“Perhaps we should wait before sending a team—”
“Wait for what, exactly?” Sebastian interjects, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He straightens his posture and crosses his arms. “A blood sacrifice? Neither of you studied ancient magical tribes, so I won’t fault you for your ignorance, but the last time runes like these were activated, it triggered a tidal wave that destroyed the sea walls along the Nordic coast. Thousands of people were killed.”
Sloane glances up from the book she is pretending to read and feels only a little shame for ogling her husband when he is in the middle of an important conversation. But she enjoys watching Sebastian showcase his intelligence—he’s always been a little cocky, and rightfully so—he won’t back down when he knows he is right. With his coat discarded and sleeves pinned up, she can see the way the muscles in his arms flex as he waits for either man to respond.
“Alright, Sallow, you win,” the other Auror, Bartie, sighs. The red-headed Weasley is a few years older than her and Sebastian but is far more trusting than the rest of the old guard. “What do you need from us?”
Sebastian shrugs, trying not to smirk when he gets his way. “Whomever the department can spare, really. Preferably those who are proficient in more than just defensive magic. A liaison for the local communities as well, to safeguard them from harm.”
“Should I contact St. Mungos—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sebastian waves off Jenkins’ inquiry. It should be known by now that the only healer needed is Mrs. Sallow—Sloane. The Aurors give curt nods and Sebastian flicks his gaze to where she is standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, but I believe my wife has been waiting long enough.”
She smiles somewhat bashfully as the two men finally notice her just as they are being shooed out of the room. Jeffries is indifferent, but Bartie offers a polite smile and wave before leaving.
“Looks like we’re off on another adventure, sweetheart,” Sebastian says when they are alone, re-crossing his arms as he leans back against the desk. Sloane is already swiftly crossing the room, practically launching herself onto him as she swallows his surprised laughter in a kiss. He quickly hooks his arms around her waist, holding her steady as she presses up on her toes to meet his height the best she can.
“Mmm—hello,” he manages, pulling away with a breathless grin. “You’re certainly in a mood.”
“Yes, sir,” she simply replies, catching the glimmer of excitement that passes through his coffee-colored eyes. Sloane touches her heels back to the floor, smoothing her hands across his shoulders and chest, playing with the straps of his suspenders. “Is that so bad?”
“Not at all,” Sebastian hastily shakes his head and gives her hips an appreciative squeeze. “I’m usually the needy one, is all.”
“Well, I can’t help it when you show off,” she explains, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. “I love your big brain.”
Sebastian’s brows twitch up at the word big, but before he can make a lewd comment she palms the front of his pants, and he croaks instead. He recovers quickly, hands snapping up to firmly cradle her face as he captures her lips in a kiss that speaks volumes of his hunger for her. Sloane matches his enthusiasm, tugging at his suspenders until they are hanging at his sides. As she flicks open the clasps of his trousers, he fumbles for his wand, muttering the necessary spells against her lips to slam shut the door, waiting for the audible click of the lock before tossing it aside.
It isn’t very often that Sloane is in control, and she takes full advantage of catching him off guard, not-so-gently pushing him back until he topples into the cushioned armchair with an oof. He watches her with a mesmerized expression, shifting to accommodate as she kneels between his spread legs. She continues with removing his trousers, pulling them down along with his underwear until the fabric pools around his ankles.
Sloane wastes no time, finding satisfaction in the way Sebastian’s breath hitches as she wraps one hand around the base of his cock, already hard from her teasing. She leisurely strokes him, pushing up his shirt so she can trail a path of wet kisses across his navel, hipbone, and thighs. Her thumb brushes over the sensitive head, spreading the gathering of pre-come as he shudders, breathing already labored. With a coy glance up through her lashes, she slowly takes him into the warmth of her mouth.
Sebastian’s fingers quickly thread into her hair, tugging at the ash-blonde strands as her lips slide down his length until she feels him against the back of her throat. She sucks in to create a perfect seal, repeating the up and down motion a few times before leaning back to swirl her tongue around the tip.
“F—fuck…” Sebastian groans, his head lulling back. Sloane steadily increases her pace, humming until the vibration prompts him to slide open his eyes to watch her head bob in his lap. Her fingers continue to stroke where her lips can’t reach, her other hand softly fondling his sac in a way that has his hips bucking up involuntarily.
She keeps her eyes on his face as it contorts with pleasure, brows furrowed deeply as he resists the urge to unravel too quickly. It’s thrilling for her to see him at her mercy, incoherent murmurs of praise falling from his lips as she eagerly coaxes him to the edge. His grip tightens in her hair, pressing against the nape of her neck, a telltale sign he’s close.
“Slo—Sloane,” he gasps, voice strained. “I—oh, fuck—I’m—”
The rest of his sentence dissolves into a strangled moan, his body tensing and cock twitching against her tongue as he spills his release. Sloane swallows it all, remembering to breathe through her nose as she takes every last drop he has to offer. Sebastian slumps back, in a daze as Sloane pulls away with a wet pop and self-satisfied smirk. There’s a lopsided grin on his face as he silently admires her, affectionately sweeping the hair from her face before brushing the pad of his thumb across her wet lips.
Even though Sloane can feel the slick of her arousal within her undergarments, she is content enough to wait until they return to their London flat for reciprocation. Seeing Sebastian so boneless and completely sated is satisfaction enough. She slides her hands across his thighs, gently massaging the remaining tension away.
“Ready to go home?” she asks, already imagining the evening ahead. A long bath, a hearty meal, and the comfort of their marital bed—not that they’ll be doing much sleeping.
Sebastian gradually sits up and Sloane pushes herself to stand, ready to help him right his trousers and gather his belongings so they can leave before more Aurors—or heaven forbid the Minister himself—stops by for another chat. But Sebastian shakes his head and the devilish gleam in his eyes is all the warning she has before his hands are on her, spinning her around to bend her over the desk.
“Seb!” the protest dies on her tongue as he hoists up her skirts, tucking them around her waist. Sloane sucks in a breath as he cups her, fingers pressing firm against the dampness of her knickers. He makes an appreciative sound, applying more pressure where she needs it the most, but just as she pushes back against his touch it’s gone, and all she can do is whimper at the loss.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian coos, peeling the delicate fabric away to expose her naked flesh. “I’ll take care of you.”
She lets out a surprised squeak when he playfully smacks her bare bottom, even more heat pooling in her gut as her legs tremble. Sebastian huffs a soft chuckle, this time smoothing the skin over with a gentle touch.
“More?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice causing her to shiver.
She nods, barely remembering to speak, “yes.”
“Yes…?”
Sloane flushes—even after all these years, Sebastian can so easily fluster her. “Y—yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Perhaps some lingering naivety makes her believe he’ll simply take her like this, but no, her husband clearly has other plans for her. His hands slide up the back of her thighs until his thumbs are spreading her open, teasing her silken folds and entrance.
“Is this what I do to you?” he rasps, sliding two fingers through her arousal before slowly sinking them into her as she lets out a shuddering sigh. The way she flexes around him as he leisurely pumps in and out betrays just how impatient she is for his offer of pleasure. When she lifts her hips to meet his ministrations, Sebastian presses his free hand to her lower back, keeping her still.
“I said I’d take care of you,” his voice is gruffer than before, and she bites back a whine when he removes his fingers. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she breathes, shaking her head. A part of her realizes this is Sebastian’s way of showing her who is really in charge, now.
“Do you want to come around my fingers?”
Sloane shakes her head again, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together for the slightest ounce of relief.
“No?” Sebastian feigns surprise, amused by her startled moan when he slips his fingers back inside her anyways. “My, my…you are needy today, aren’t you?”
All she can do is moan, disrupting the parchment on the desk as she grasps for purchase.
“Well,” he says in a sigh, curling his fingers to press against the spot that makes her vision blurry with stars. “You’ll have to use your words, my love. Tell me what you need.”
Sloane bites down a little harder on her bottom lip, her entire body now hot and prickled with goosebumps. She used to hate when he prompted her like this, attempting to coax filthy words from her lips and make her beg. But she really is too indigent right now to care, glancing over her shoulder to meet his wicked expression.
“Sebastian, I swear to God, if you don’t—”
“Isn’t it a sin to swear to God?” he muses, acting as if he isn’t knuckle-deep inside her. “My Sloane is much more polite than that.”
Insufferable tease—she huffs in frustration, but the warm swirl in her gut is a stark reminder that she loves it, loves him.
“Please,” she starts, deeply exhaling. “Shut up and fuck me.”
Sebastian tries to hide his delight but fails, laughing as he shifts to properly stand behind her, nudging her stance a little wider so they are properly aligned. “As my lady wishes.”
There is little teasing after that, Sebastian nudging his hardened-again cock against her before snapping forward to fill her in one fluid stroke. Her sharp gasp is drowned out by his deep groan and it’s very clear neither will last very long. Almost immediately, he sets a quick pace, the friction an agonizingly wonderful burn. Sloane can feel her legs shaking, straining as she stands on the very tip of her toes, Sebastian holding her up by the waist and hips to meet his thrusts.
“That’s it,” he grunts, not bothering to keep any sort of rhythm. He folds his body over hers, his free hand grasping her right wrist, pinning it to the desk as he bares his weight down. “Just like that.”
Sloane whimpers her approval, the warmth of him holding her down a comfort she never expected to enjoy or need. He ruts his hips against hers until they are both frantically crying out, core fluttering around him as he spills again, this time deep inside her heat.
It takes several moments for them to float back down to reality, Sloane sighing as Sebastian rests himself a little more comfortably across her back. He nestles his nose against her neck, affectionately sweeping through her sweat-matted hair as he presses a few lazy kisses to the shell of her ear.
He repeats her earlier ask with a breathless chuckle, “ready to go home?”
She hums her agreement, the two unhurried as they fix their appearances and attempt to tidy up any mess. As they leave the offices hand-in-hand, Sloane thinks to herself that maybe, just maybe, the Ministry of Magic isn’t so bad after all.
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x f!mc#sebastian sallow fanfic#sebastian sallow smut#fanfic
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⊱─ 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 ─⊰
➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion x f!reader the vampire bride
➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - T, jealousy, a tavern brawl, MC gets slightly hurt, protective Astarion, vampiric type of fluff
➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: five years passed since Wyll's wedding, but every year the city has festivities on the day, celebrating love and good wine. you too feel in a mood to go out but Astarion needs some convincing. he's not keen on mingling with others outside the palace. still, he agrees to go along, only for things to turn out less pleasant than expected. but he's there to protect you, no matter what.
➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2,966
𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: happy valentine's day and happy reading, with much love from me to you all <3
written for Baldur's Date challenge on AO3
“Come on now, my love, you already refused to go to the main event, least you can do is accompany me.” you speak to Astarion while you’re putting in earrings. It took some time to get used to not seeing yourself in the mirrors and other reflective surfaces but by now you’re pretty good at it, even if earrings still get a bit tricky.
“Why can’t we host something here?” Astarion is watching you, his arms crossed on the chest and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Because it’s not enough time to send out invitations.” you raise your eyebrows at him and Astarion sighs. “And anyway, it’s good to mingle.” you add with a smile, making Astarion scoff.
“You mean mingling with peasants, my dear.” his tone of voice is bitter and verging on annoyance but you know it’s not that serious for him.
“We don’t have to leave Upper City, love. And you like seeing patriars get messy when they are too deep in their cups.” you smile, you know all his weak spots and this one works out too because Astarion’s expression softens and he unfolds his arms, now walking to you and taking earrings from your fingers.
“Well, I suppose that could be fun.” he smiles and while it’s not a soft smile, he is definitely in a mood to mock some spoiled nobles with you and you still appreciate that he’s willing to keep you company.
While Astarion is affixing your earrings for you, you think of the occasion: Wyll Ravenguard, a man you and Astarion travelled together and beat the Elder Brain with, got married five years ago. As a Duke he now has the common folk celebrating his marriage every year. It’s a festival with wine flowing freely and love being celebrated by both rich and poor. Of course, Wyll did invite you both, the Lord Astarion and his beloved Consort, to his personal celebration, but Astarion has never been too fond of Wyll so naturally he refused, sending a letter back with a well-crafted lie why neither of you can attend. Last time you actually saw Wyll was during the aforementioned wedding. Beautiful event and he looked so happy, but you got bored halfway through the evening and so did Astarion. Ever since you accepted immortality he always prefers only your company if possible. No matter the balls, the masquerades, the soirees, Astarion always ends the day with just you in his arms, holding you firmly as if you could disappear the moment he’s not looking.
But today you don’t want him to worry or be bored, so going out and mingling with others while the sun is bright and warm sounds like a great idea to you. And now that your beloved agreed to go with you, you’re rejoiced.
Astarion finishes helping you with earrings and cups your face with his palms, a soft smile now on his lips.
“You are so beautiful. I ought to just keep you here, for myself.” he says in a voice that’s soaked with emotion and love. You raise your arms and hold his wrists gently with a smile.
“You always say that, like I don’t spend almost every moment with you already.” you tease him lovingly and Astarion scoffs.
“Maybe that’s still not enough for me, love.” he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, but only for a moment. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.” Vampire Lord whispers against your skin and you smile.
“And you’re mine.” you whisper back while your eyes are still closed and you feel Astarion smile when he gives you another short kiss. Then he leans back, releases your face and you open your eyes to look at him.
“Alright, let’s go. Let’s see what beloved patriars of Baldur’s Gate are up to today.” he gives you a mischievous smirk and offers you his elbow.
With a nod and a chuckle you hook your arm around his offered elbow and let him lead you out of the bedroom and down the hallways, to the main door of the palace. Only couple years ago you two finished refurbishing the palace and it finally feels like home – to both of you.
Before you exit, Astarion suddenly stops and when you look at him you find concern reflected in his eyes.
“Just stay close to me, will you?” he asks. It’s not a command, not like the ones he gives to his spawn or servants. No, he’s asking you, nearly begging you to stay by his side once you leave the palace. It’s as if he is trying to sound like he cares for your safety when instead he’s just afraid to be among others without you at his side, the only person that makes him happy and fulfilled.
You’re surprised but only for a moment. You sigh and smile, caressing his cheek with your palm.
“Of course, my love.” you promise and he nods, looking more relieved now, and he leads you outside.
When you both walk past the gates and take a path leading to the Wide, you both turn heads. Of course you do. Not only you are known faces in Baldur’s Gate, you are also so exceptionally beautiful together. Astarion is embodiment of pride and arrogance as he walks with you by his side, through the streets of Upper City, and leads you to his favorite place called Golden Claw.
But you have other ideas.
You tug at his arm with yours still hooked around it and Astarion stops, looking mildly confused.
“What is the matter, little love?” he asks in a smooth, even voice and you want to just bring him closer and kiss him again but you don’t, you hope you’ll have time for that later.
“I want to go to Ribbon.” you say and Astarion raises an eyebrow at you.
“Really?” he asks as if he can’t believe you’d choose that tavern over the Claw. But today you feel in a mood to see people being happy instead of pretending that joy doesn’t exist among nobility.
“Really.”
“Well.” Astarion pauses, thinking, then glances in the direction of Claw before looking back at you. “Fine. But just because you’re batting those eyelashes at me like that.” he says, making you laugh and you make an extra effort to do just that, now making him smile in return. “Alright, don’t take it too far now or we won’t make it to the bloody tavern.”
You chuckle and nod, pressing yourself to his side before you begin walking again, although now in a slightly different direction.
For a little while you both walk in silence, just enjoying the sunshine, the sounds of the city, the smells of late summer flowers blooming. You are happy, you always feel happiest when you’re at Astarion’s side, no matter where.
“So why this place?” Astarion interrupts your inner musings and you glance at him, then notice that you two are getting closer to the Ribbon. It’s already bursting with bard song and people singing along.
“Because the youth gathers there. I like Claw, but patriars there can be so pretentious. You know what I mean.” you say and in your peripheral you notice Astarion nod. “But today I feel like I want to be among people who love life. Just like I love mine with you.” you smile and Astarion glances at you, smiling too.
“Very well, if that’s what you want then I will be with you.”
“I know.”
At the tavern it’s really hard to find a table that’s not taken by sons and daughters of patriars. Most of them are already drunk or getting there quickly. The wine is being spilled, the beer is being drunk and the songs never stop.
Thankfully the tavern owner recognizes you both and manages to clear one table. It’s a bit further away from all the partying happening and when you sit down, with Astarion pulling the chair for you, he takes his own and sets it next to you. While you wait for serving girl to bring you both some wine, you and your beloved watch over the people celebrating Duke’s marriage and love.
“Look at them.” Astarion says and you’re trying to see what he means exactly, scanning the happy crowd, looking for something that stands out, but you fail to find whatever that is.
You look at him but before you can speak the serving girl is back with a bottle of wine and two goblets. She sets everything on the table and seems to be flustered when she steals a glance at Astarion. You immediately frown, jealousy lighting up like a match. When the girl pushes the goblet towards your lover you grab her wrist firmly, making her yelp. Astarion looks at her, then at you, then finally sees you grabbing the poor mortal girl firmly and he smirks.
“My lovely consort, please, she’s a nobody.” he seems to have immediately caught on the situation at hand and he pats your grasping fingers softly. “Let her go, she’s no trouble.”
You glare at the server for a moment longer, then narrow your eyes, but let go of her at last. The girl immediately yanks her hand away, rubbing her sore wrist with fear in her eyes. She just stares at you in shock before she steps backwards and scuttles away like a rat.
“Darling, they can look but nobody can have me except you.” Astarion reassures you and takes your hand in his, finally getting you to look at him. He sees your frown, your anger, your jealousy and it makes him smile. “Oh, but you look so lovely when you’re jealous.” his voice is like a purr and he reaches up with his free hand, tucking your hair behind your ear, then trails his fingertips down your jawline. “I’m yours and you’re mine, for eternity.” reassurance in his voice finally makes you calm down and you sigh, leaning your face into his touch, making his palm press against your cheek.
“I apologize. I should’ve just ignored her.”
“Yes, you should have. Especially considering you’re my consort, dear. You should act appropriately for someone in your position. But I do love you so dearly, so I will forgive you. This time.” a smile on Astarion’s face tells you he’s not even slightly mad about what happened and is just teasing you.
“How gracious of you.” you tease back and his fingers slip from your cheek to your chin, pulling your face closer to him.
“Give me a kiss and all will be forgiven, my pet.” he hums and you smile too, leaning closer and giving the kiss he desires.
Unfortunately the kiss doesn’t last long, after all you both are in public and you have to upkeep the image of nobility and grace, but when Astarion starts pouring the wine you look around again, realizing that despite the celebrations going on in full swing there’s still some young patriars watching you two and whispering.
“What do you think they gossip about?” you ask Astarion and he gives the people a quick glance, then settles the bottle of wine down on the table.
“Who knows. Most likely how beautiful we are, how successful we are, and most likely what we do behind closed doors.” Vampire Lord gives you a mischievous look and you smile, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh I’m sure they gossip all about that. But they will never know the truth.” your eyes dip to his lips, to the hidden fangs not unlike the ones you have in your own mouth.
Astarion hands you the cup of wine and you take it, making sure to brush your fingers against his. Small gestures like that always make you both feel connected no matter the place or situation and when your lover takes his own cup you both take a sip each in unison.
“No, they won’t. But it’s better that way. If we want to keep spinning the web for this city, we have to hide our true identities until such time comes that we can reveal ourselves. But we have eternity, my dear. And world will be ours for the taking.”
You smile while you watch him watch the patrons of the tavern and take another sip. Hearing him talk about his plans for the future always makes you feel so excited. Yes, the world is yours for the taking. And you will help him every step of the way, no matter how long it will take.
But then you look away from Astarion when you begin hearing shouts. Right before your eyes the fight begins breaking out. Seems two men wanted to woo one girl and she didn’t bother to pick, making them angry at each other.
The fighting starts, mugs and cups start flying. Someone gets shoved, shoves someone else, more people get involved by the second. You see the tavern owner rush to the center of the brawl only to get punched and you gasp at that.
“Oh my.” you hear Astarion chuckle by your side but you feel his hand find your knee and squeeze it protectively.
You take another sip of your wine, getting slightly worried now that the brawl seems to be growing, the shouting is almost deafening, someone screams, high pitched type of scream that makes it hard to tell if it was a man or a woman.
“Astarion-“ you turn to him, only getting a second to see his serious face before something heavy drops on the table you’re sitting at.
You yelp and immediately jump to your feet, so does Astarion. Two men fell while trying to choke each other and you step back from them, only for Astarion to step in front of you, his arm extended protectively as he watches the men keep fighting even after falling so harshly.
“I think it’s time we leave.” you hear Astarion say among all the noises and shouting and you couldn’t agree more.
You take his hand and toss the cup of wine away, now looking around for a path to the door leading outside. But then – pain.
“Fuck!” you shout now more annoyed than scared and look at your upper arm, seeing a slash in the sleeve of your dress and a wound that immediately begins oozing blood.
Astarion turns to you in a moment and gets closer, looking at your wound, then at your face. When your eyes meet his, you clearly see that he’s furious. He briefly looks around then back at you.
“Who hurt you?” he demands to know but you shake your head, you don’t know, there’s people beating each other almost everywhere so it’s hard to make out who could’ve had a knife and accidentally hurt you.
Astarion snarls with fury, then looks around with his eyes narrowed and his muscles tense, you feel it because you’re still holding his hand and his grasp on your fingers is iron-like.
“Let’s go.” he says curtly and you hear barely contained fury in his tone but you don’t respond, just start making your way towards the door while pressing your palm against your wound.
From outside you already hear Flaming Fists gathering to manage the brawl and before you reach the tavern door it opens. It’s two men but they immediately notice you with Astarion and push people aside to get to you both, leading you out at last. You are happy they were here to assist you because you are not sure if Astarion would not have gone back in to kill whoever wounded you once you were safe outside. He cannot do it now with Fists present and it’s for the better because when he’s furious, he doesn’t think well.
Outside though you pull him to the side and make him look at you. He’s trying to see if he can sneak back in, his eyes not staying on your for longer than a second but you let go of his hand and grasp his jaw, forcing him to look at you now.
“I’m okay, you’re okay. It’s just a small cut.” you assure him and he finally seems to focus on you now.
“Show me.” he demands and you remove your palm from your wound. It’s just a shallow cut and it barely even bled.
Astarion sighs and holds your upper arm, looking at the cut with a frown, but then he leans closer and kisses it gently.
“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” he whispers and you smile at that.
“I know. But I’m okay. It was just an accident. No need to slaughter entire tavern in broad daylight.” you assure him and his eyes meet yours.
“No need? Maybe not. But the desire to do so anyway…” Astarion’s voice trails off but he sighs and nods slightly. “Yes, you’re right. It’s just hard not to want to punish these idiots for even laying a finger on you, let alone spilling your precious blood.”
“It was an accident. You know well nobody would touch me without your permission anyway.” you say with a smile and Astarion finally seems to start relaxing, his face softens as he gazes at you.
Finally, that self-assured smirk returns to his lips and he pulls you into an embrace, his arms around your waist and you place your palms on his chest, looking up at the beautiful man you have a whole eternity to love. And be loved by him in return.
“You’re mine.” he says in a whisper.
“And you’re mine.” you whisper back and let him kiss you.
Crisis averted, slaughter avoided. Screw this wedding anniversary celebration of the Duke. You two can show love to each other in safety of your palace.
And you will.
For as long as time itself exists.
#baldur's gate 3#ascended astarion#reader insert#x reader#bg3#astarion x reader#astarion#female reader#my fics
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atlcscp
♡ silly little friend ♡
xi05
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crutchlegcrutch
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funkyjeans
jeans that are funky