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#you tell em merlin
deadpools-left-arm · 3 months
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just a funny lil thing on pinterest today
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ramblingmerlin · 9 months
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"his name is merlin"
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Merlin, containing multitudes, is only ever either completely abhorrent or completely delightful, nothing in between. Have some delightful Merlin, as a treat
Merlin was with the kings, and they were making merry. Ulfin said to him in jest, "Merlin, beware of the men on the other side, for they have slandered you dreadfully." "I am well aware," said Merlin, "that they don't like me very much, and they are right! But they will never get their hands on me! And they have no worse enemy than I or one who will do them as much harm, as long as they keep bothering King Arthur — and I won't have to start this fight!"
— The Story of Merlin, Chapter 7, Rupert T. Pickens translation
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tiodolma · 10 months
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Hey sometimes murdering enemies immediately ASAP isnt the most satisfying thing!
Why cant you all see that prolonging suffering and inflicting psychological damage is also a valid and actually more impactful punishment?
There’s a reason why “an eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth,” kind of punishment was always a thing. The punishment must be of equal value with the crime committed!
Ya’ll are just buying into Merlin’s brand of justice if you want every enemy to die a quick and brutal death regardless of the crime!
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this love (taylor's version) is THE merthur song post 5x13 i don't accept criticism
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shadowtriovibes · 11 months
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pt. i: break a sweat
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pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Word Count: 5.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, dubious safe sex methods, even more dubious interpretations of how the room of requirement works
Summary: sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)
"Speaking of which," you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. "What prize will you not be winning?" Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, "I have something in mind." You force yourself not to get distracted. "Do tell." "If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game," he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.
Seeing Sebastian for the first time since the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts is quite the shock.
You knew from his detailed letters that your dearest friend had spent the better part of his summer break training for Quidditch tryouts in the fall, frequently flying down to the Poidsear Coast to log hours and hours at their pitch.
Sometimes he would even bring Anne along with him when she was feeling well enough to ride on the back of his broom. He’d convince her to release a secondhand Snitch for him to track down, and while he hunted it down, she worked on the assignments your professors had set to help her prepare for her return to Hogwarts in the fall.
He’d even written to tell you that he’d never felt more confident on a broom, and that if he only got to have one last season on your house team before leaving school, he was determined to make the absolute most of it.
You knew all of this, and yet when you first see him in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast, you nearly swoon like a Muggle schoolgirl at the sight of him.
The first thing you notice is that he’s taller. Even seated next to Anne at the Slytherin table, you can see his entire head whereas you can barely make out the top of his sister’s. Sebastian had never seemed that much bigger than his twin before, but things have clearly changed.
Then, you notice that his complexion has changed as well. He’s tan from spending all summer training in the sun, his button-down shirt suddenly looking so crisply white against his sun-kissed face.
His freckles, too – there are so many more.
But that could also just be because there’s simply more Sebastian now. His shoulders are broader, his chest wider, and even his hair has grown long enough to brush upwards into a less haphazard style (though certainly not as severe as Ominis’).
It’s as if your boyish Sebastian from the previous school year had quite suddenly become a grown man in just three short months, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him.
It takes you a few minutes to adjust as you slide into a seat across from him next to Ominis, and based on the look on Anne’s face, she at least knows what’s got you so flustered.
During a lull in conversation about Anne’s return, you tell Sebastian, “You’re looking fit.”
You hope you can casually get it out of the way, and that no one will dwell on it.
“Am I?” he asks with an easy smile.
“I mean physically,” you insist, remaining one step ahead of him. “I nearly mistook you for one of the Beaters for the Magpies.”
“Sebastian could never be a Beater,” Anne interjects. “He’s too much of a show-off to be anything but the Seeker.”
“I’ll be whatever the team needs me to be,” he insists. “I practiced for all four positions this summer, so wherever they want to slot me in is fine.”
“Silly Sebastian,” Violet McDowell calls out from a few seats down, a wicked grin on her face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that there are many more positions than just four?”
Your entire end of the table bursts into laughter while Sebastian simply flashes a wicked grin, and you think about using your ancient magic to hurl one of the stacked platters of food in front of you at Violet’s head. (Or maybe you should simply toss her out into the courtyard.)
“Is this how it’s going to be this year?” Anne sighs. “When I left, Sebastian was just an awkward boy with his nose always buried in a book, and now the girls are lusting after him.”
“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Ominis agrees. “He had a big enough head before he was attractive.”
“I think it’s excellent,” Sebastian laughs. “It’s about time everyone realized that I’m the perfect man, and all it took was a little bit of Quidditch practice and one last growth spurt.”
“‘All it took,’” Anne mumbles at the same time Ominis exclaims, “‘Perfect man?!’”
While both his sister and best friend take turns putting dents in Sebastian’s inflated ego, he takes it in stride and sneakily winks at you from across the table when he catches you silently observing, your gaze firmly settled on the sharp line of his jaw.
Sebastian makes a mental note of the fact that you immediately go red. Even if no one else notices, he certainly does.
Two weeks later, you and Anne link arms with Ominis to walk down with him to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin team tryouts.
“Now that I’ve got a brilliant witch on each arm, I suppose I won’t be needing my wand as often to get around,” he teases.
“Please, I know a thing or two about that wand of yours,” Anne replies. “Last year I spent a full month reading books on wandcraft that Sebastian brought me from the library. If I had to guess, I think you can probably ‘see’ more clearly than either of us can. It’s powerful.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Ominis demurs. “I’m just naturally perceptive.”
Once you arrive at the pitch, the three of you take seats along the practice bleachers with a few of your housemates, who chat excitedly when the Slytherin hopefuls begin to take the field.
You spot Sebastian quickly, even among nearly two dozen others in green practice uniforms circling for warmups on their brooms. Compared to how big he’d looked at the start of term in just his school robes, he’s huge now – equipped with pads across his shoulders, forearms and shins that accentuate his muscular form.
He’d declined a helmet, of course, because despite his newfound bulk he’s still the same exasperatingly headstrong boy you’ve nurtured a crush on for nearly your entire school career.
“Between us, what do you think his chances are of making the team?” you ask Anne.
“Truthfully?” she smirks. “I think he’ll have his pick of positions, unless Imelda wants to humble him on purpose.”
“Which one would be humbling?” you ask, amused.
“Probably Chaser,” she muses. “He’d be an excellent Chaser, of course, but it’s his least favorite.”
“I’ll bet he becomes a Beater,” Ominis offers. “Without the Dark Arts, I’d like him to have some sort of outlet for his intensity.”
“Fine, then I’ll say… Keeper,” you say, smiling to yourself at your private joke that only Sebastian would appreciate. “Because that way he’ll get to stay in one place the whole game and know that everyone’s eyes are on him.”
Shortly after tryouts wrap up, Imelda sequesters herself in the girls’ dorm to put together her official roster and the majority of Slytherin’s upperclassmen start passing around Butterbeers while they settle in to await her decision.
Sebastian is inarguably the center of attention, casually leaning against a table in the corner with Anne at his side. A flock of fifth-year girls crowds around him to listen intently as he talks about the impressive diving save he’d made, capturing the Snitch just feet from the ground.
“He’s going to be insufferable now,” Ominis groans while the two of you watch from across the room. “There’s barely enough room for his ego in this friendship as it is.”
“Come now, we can keep him in check,” you laugh. “Especially with Anne here.”
“It’s really good to have her back,” Ominis agrees softly, smiling to himself when he hears Anne’s voice through the noise, telling Sebastian’s fan club how he’d attempted a similar save over the summer and ended up crashing into a derelict poacher camp.
Huh.
However, before you can spend too much more time thinking about Ominis and Anne, you hear the noise in the room spike as Imelda saunters down the stairs, a rolled-up piece of parchment in her hand.
“Who’s ready to meet this year’s Slytherin Quidditch team?” she calls out, and the entire room bursts into excited cheers.
She starts to read off from her list, allowing brief pauses for applause after each name. You and Ominis snake through the common room to stand by Sebastian. He seems to be perfectly calm, but by now you can recognize some telltale tension lingering in his jaw.
Anne holds one of his hands to reassure him, swaying a bit nervously herself.
While Imelda works her way down the list, the four of you learn that hasn’t been named Slytherin’s Keeper. He’s not a Beater either, nor is he ultimately a Chaser.
“Lastly, your newest Seeker,” Imelda teases as she reaches the end of the list. “...It’s obviously Sallow!”
Sebastian beams brilliantly while Anne pulls him into a tight hug, and Ominis smiles and murmurs his congratulations to his friend, assuring him he always knew he’d make the team.
There are several other girls quick to offer their congratulations as well, but you wait for the crowd around him to thin out and for Anne to escort Ominis to get more Butterbeers before you sidle up next to Sebastian and nudge your shoulder against his.
“Excellent work, Bash,” you murmur. “You put on quite a show at tryouts.”
“Only because you were watching,” he flirts back, and you roll your eyes fondly.
Since the start of term, he’s been relentless with his play-flirting. You resist it as much as you can, but it always makes your heart race when he calls you “love,” or offers to carry your books for you, or even charms little notes poking fun at your classmates into tiny birds that gracefully land on your desk during classes.
(You don’t have the heart to ask him to knock it off, because even though you know he doesn’t mean it, it still feels nice to be the center of his attention.)
“Then I’ll have to come to see you start in next week’s match,” you offer. “Especially if you only play that well when I’m watching.”
“You can be my good luck charm,” he jokes. “Felix Felicis is prohibited, but you’re not.”
“That was awful,” you laugh, but Sebastian just grins.
“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “We should make a bet on it.”
“A bet?” you ask. “On what, that you’ll win?”
He shakes his head. “Too easy, we’re playing Ravenclaw, we’ll obviously win. I mean something more challenging.”
“You’re clearly confident,” you tell him. “What are your terms?”
He considers his offer for a moment and then says, “I’ll bet that I can catch the Snitch in under thirty minutes. I’ll even let you be the official timekeeper, since I’ll be a bit preoccupied.”
“Under thirty?” you ask skeptically. “That’s nearly professional, Sebastian. Ominis told me most games last at least an hour.”
“I’ve been practicing all summer,” he insists. “Anne would release a Snitch and I’d even give it a five-minute head start, but I never let one get further away from me than the far side of Marunweem Lake.”
“Careful, Sebastian, you sound quite cocky,” you murmur, and you think you see Sebastian’s gaze dip down to your mouth for a split second.
“I am,” he agrees. “In fact, I’ll even let you pick your prize first, for if you win.”
“Alright,” you laugh. “When I win, I want… for you to write my History of Magic assignments for the next month.
“That’s it?” he scoffs. “You could have anything and you want me to write your essays?”
“I didn’t start studying magic with the rest of you lot, and I don’t know a lot of the foundational things that Binns wants us to reference,” you remind him. “You know your history much better than I do, and I need to bump my ‘Acceptable’ up to ‘Exceeds Expectations’ by the time N.E.W.T.s roll around.”
“Love, I would’ve done them for you anyway,” Sebastian says dismissively, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning at the nickname. “Pick something fun.”
“Fine,” you reply. “I want…”
You consider your options for a moment, trying to think of something that isn’t either obscene or pathetic. Finally, you have an idea.
“There is one thing I’ve been thinking about,” you tell him, a secret smile on your lips.
Sebastian perks up, leaning in closer. “Go on then.”
“I want you to help me set up Anne and Ominis,” you say carefully, watching him for any signs that he’s about to blow up.
He just blinks at you, bewildered. “What.”
“I think they would be a lovely couple,” you croon. “And I know she’s your sister and you’re, y’know...”
“I’m what?” he demands.
“You’re very protective of her,” you say tactfully. “But we’re all adults now, and I think they really understand each other. I want you to help me convince them that they should give it a chance.”
Sebastian is quiet for several long moments.
“Well,” he finally murmurs. “I would prefer it if Anne never dated anyone so I wouldn’t have any more reasons to worry about her, but I suppose if she must, Ominis is a good man.”
You shout excitedly and wrap your arms around his impossibly broad shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He easily allows it, fondly pressing his nose to your hair.
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, since you won’t win and I’ll never have to aid you in your scheming,” he murmurs against your temple.
“Speaking of which,” you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. “What prize will you not be winning?”
Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, “I have something in mind.”
You force yourself not to get distracted. “Do tell.”
“If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game,” he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.
“O-oh?” you ask softly, squirming a little in his grasp. “Just me?”
“Just you,” he confirms.
His eyes are dark, and despite the cacophony of the room around you both, he’s focused solely on you.
“And what would we be doing in the Room of Requirement?” you ask softly.
He doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. Instead, he deliberately drags his thumbs across your hips, raking his gaze down your body and back up with a pointed look.
“You mean it?” you ask him quietly. “You aren’t just teasing like earlier?”
“When was I teasing?” Sebastian asks, amused.
“This whole time,” you insist, fidgeting nervously with the laces at the front of his Quidditch shirt. “All the flirting, all this back-and-forth… You’re just winding me up.”
“I’m not,” he says quietly. “I thought about you all summer, love. I missed you like mad, and I sincerely want you.”
Merlin.
Some bold part of you steps a little closer so you can lean in close to his ear and ask, “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go to the Room of Requirement right now?”
You hear Sebastian swallow and exhale sharply.
“N-not now,” he answers. “After the match. I just…”
He doesn’t really have the words to articulate it, but he wants to earn your affection. He has to prove he’s good enough first, that you aren’t making a mistake by letting him finally force your close friendship into something more.
“Alright,” you acquiesce, gently brushing your lips against his cheekbone. “Just don’t get too distracted and fall off your broom, because I actually want you to win.”
“The match or the bet?” he asks in a low voice.
You just take a step back with a teasing grin, and before you disappear into the crowd to find your friends, you murmur, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sallow.”
It’s so many flights of stairs up to the Room of Requirement. You almost feel bad for Sebastian, but not enough to stop relentlessly tugging him up countless flights in the quiet Astronomy Tower.
He must be exhausted already, you assume. While the match itself had only lasted twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds, he spent nearly all of them racing around the pitch alongside Ravenclaw’s Seeker, eyes trained on any flash of light that shimmered like gold.
He’d even taken a Bludger to his right thigh. You’d felt like you were going to be sick just watching it collide with him, but he’d merely dropped a few feet with a wince and sped off again.
Not even a damn Bludger could knock him off his broom.
(As soon as your nausea had dissipated, you’d felt another dizzying wave of sensation take over slightly south of your stomach.)
Just as he’d promised, he quickly caught up with the Snitch near the base of the Hufflepuff student section, landing not-so-neatly in the muddy grass with one arm thrown up in the air. He was evidently clutching the struggling Snitch and beaming so hugely you could see it from your spot in the stands fifty feet in the air.
As soon as Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, the Slytherins had begun to move en masse toward the stairs, preparing to turn their common room into the official site of the year’s first not-so-clandestine party.
You, however, snuck away from the group and lingered outside the team’s changing area. Inside, you could hear raised voices.
“Imelda, you don’t understand,” Sebastian was whining. “I need to go now.”
“There’s a way we do things here, Sallow,” she had argued “I’m the captain, and if I say we’re going to discuss the game before anyone leaves, you stay.”
Sebastian had a few choice words to say to that but ultimately relented, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly while you leaned against one of the canvas walls that lined the interior channels of the pitch. Ultimately, it only took about ten minutes to discuss how everyone could improve – and Imelda’s only suggestion for Sebastian had been to try to find a dryer patch of grass on which to land next time.
Seconds later, he’d burst through the door and started to take off toward the castle.
“Bash!” you called out. “Not so fast.”
When he turned and spotted you, his face lit up.
“You waited for me,” he breathed.
“Of course I did,” you said. “I believe you’ve won a prize, and the nature of it is time-sensitive.”
He looked like an utter rake with that crooked smile on his lips. He was still in his uniform head to toe, his hair even messier than usual thanks to his helmet. He’d even kept his pads on, so when he reached out to take your hand, you felt impossibly small next to him.
“Shall we?” he asks, and then the two of you were off.
By the time you reach the Room and ensure no house elves are present, you’re both out of breath and panting.
“Come here,” you whine, throwing your arms around his shoulders and messily kissing along his jawline.
“W-wait,” he stammers. “Let me get these pads off, and–”
He cuts himself off, making a face.
“I need to clean up,” he tells you, suddenly self-conscious. “I must look like hell.”
“You look obscene,” you reply, dragging your hands down his chest pads. “Which is obviously a compliment.”
He wraps his hands around your wrists to stop you from attempting to undo the laces at the front of his trousers. “Just – just let me clean off first, the prefects’ bathroom isn’t far and I got the password off of Weasley.”
“No, don’t leave,” you whine, and Sebastian is merely a man, he can’t resist the girl he’s been in love with for years when she’s begging him to take his pants off.
“I must smell foul,” he laughs. “You’re – you’re seriously okay with this?”
“Look where we are, Sebastian,” you croon, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. “Just imagine what you need.”
For your part, you imagine a plush armchair where you can wrangle Sebastian into finally taking a seat, and one quickly spins to life just behind him. You take advantage of his distraction to shove him backwards toward it and climb astride lap.
“It’s the Room of Requirement,” you tease him, straddling his thighs and dragging your nose along his cheek so he’ll tip his head back for you. “If you require something, the Room provides.”
“I require a bath,” he drawls, cursing quietly when you gently bite just over his pulse point. “Quickly, please, Room.”
Sebastian waits patiently while you eagerly strip him of his pads, but the Room doesn’t change.
“I thought you said you’ve taken baths here,” he points out skeptically. “In a huge basin, like the prefects have.”
“I have,” you insist, frowning. “I don’t know why it’s not…”
Then you trail off, your realization making you go red.
“Go on, love,” Sebastian murmurs, sliding a hand up the back of your thigh to lazily palm at your ass underneath your skirt. “I know that face, you’ve figured it out. What’s the problem?”
“W-well, it’s my Room,” you tell him sheepishly. “So it, um… I suppose it defaults to what I require.”
“And what you require,” Sebastian says slowly, “is for me to not take a bath?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed.
“I… I suppose the Room must have deduced that I – I like you like this,” you whisper, dragging your hands across his rumpled Quidditch shirt. “And I don’t need to wait for you to clean off.”
“You don’t?” Sebastian asks, his eyes now impossibly dark. “You’d let me touch you just like this? I’m a mess, I’m covered in sweat and mud and probably some blood, even.”
“Don’t care,” you breathe, sliding your hands underneath the hem of his shirt. “I want you now, Sebastian, exactly like this.”
He says some absolutely filthy words under his breath, sitting back so he can strip off his filthy uniform shirt. You can’t get your hands on his body fast enough, hurriedly familiarizing yourself with his sculpted core, broad chest, and strong shoulders.
He’s less of a mess underneath where his shirt had lain, but his skin is still warm and damp with sweat from the match. You want to put your mouth all over him, everywhere – and there’s so much of him to explore.
“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you like this,” you confess to him. “You’ve gotten bigger since last spring, and so handsome… how did you become a man in just one summer?”
“You think I’m the only one who changed this summer?” he asks with a low voice. “Look at you.”
“What about me?” you ask dumbly.
His hands go straight for your chest, roughly tugging open your uniform shirt with no regard for the longevity of its buttons.
“Here,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts through your thin brassiere. “I can assure you that I noticed where you’ve grown bigger.”
You gasp softly as he tugs down on the cups of your bra until he can lean in and press his mouth to your skin, sucking on one of your nipples and then the other.
“And here,” he murmurs into your chest, his hands returning to the backs of your thighs and sliding up your ass. “You have all these curves now, love, and they’re driving me mad.”
“Sebastian,” you whimper. “Take off my clothes.”
He helps you wrestle your skirt up over your head and tosses it recklessly as far as he can. When you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, Sebastian wraps one strong arm around your lower back and hooks the other below your hips, easily standing up from the armchair to walk you over to the bed you’d hastily imagined into existence.
Once he has you on your back, he tugs down your last remaining garment and leaves you bare and exposed to him, breathless and flushed all over.
“Your turn,” you remind him, even though part of you wishes he could leave the uniform pants on (despite the impracticality).
Once he manages to peel off the last of his clothes, he settles on his knees between your legs and skims a hand up your body, from the curve of your hip all the way up to your cheek.
“Is this too fast?” he asks you softly. “Did I ask too much?”
Your heart aches. Sebastian always stuns you with his sincerity when you least expect it.
You turn your head to kiss his palm and murmur, “No, love.”
His shoulders drop a little, the last of the tension he’d been carrying all week draining from his body. He wants, he always wants so damn badly and he would never forgive himself if he marred your first time with each other by rushing you.
“Can I touch you?” he asks in a hushed voice.
“Please,” you whine, letting your knees fall wide.
(Whether or not the other has ever done this before is still a mystery to you both, and it’s not something you’ll discuss until afterward. But right now, it’s of no importance to you.)
For a while, Sebastian’s hands roam your body without an agenda, acquainting himself with your breasts, your hips, the insides of your thighs. You moan softly when he drags his thumb along your slit, spreading your wetness around until he can easily rub slow circles over your clit.
“How do you feel?” he asks you.
“Good,” you gasp. “So good, Sebastian, like that.”
“Do you want more?” he offers, and you frantically nod, one of your hands fisting the pillow behind your head.
He carefully presses one long finger inside you, glancing between your face and your entrance to make sure you’re comfortable the entire time. One finger quickly becomes two, and when two nearly becomes three, you have to pause and take a breath.
“Enough,” you pant. “That’s enough.”
“Are you sure?” he asks you.
You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving him a few slow strokes while he leaks precum onto your hand and groans helplessly.
“I want you,” you insist. “I’ve wanted you.”
“R-right, yeah,” he agrees, trying to clear his head and focus on the task at hand. “Enough.”
He gently nudges your hand away so he can guide himself inside you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other gently pressing on your inner thigh to keep you still for him.
Underneath Sebastian like this, pinned to the mattress by his hips and hands, he completely overtakes your senses. He’s all you can see, all you can touch — you even taste and smell him.
Masculine sweat. Dark brown eyes. Crisp autumn air. The curve of his collarbone where it meets his shoulder. Woodsmoke. A million tiny freckles. Metallic blood from a split lip. Flashes of copper in his messy curls. Singed pine needles.
Sebastian groans low in his throat as he presses in, his hair falling into his eyes before he frantically brushes it away so he can see you take him for the first time.
Once he’s fully seated inside you, he bends down and presses his forehead against yours.
“Tell me,” he begs, his hand curling gently around the back of your neck to hold you close.
“Tell you what?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his with every syllable.
“Tell me that it feels like this for you,” he practically breathes into you. “It feels like you’re — you’re everywhere, like you’re all there is.”
“Sebastian,” you whimper, and his hips snap against yours.
“Say it,” he growls. “Please.”
“You’re all there is,” you gasp. “You’re all mine, Bash.”
He makes a sound like you’ve sucker-punched him, messily kissing wherever he can get his mouth on you – your cheek, your jaw, your lips. All the while he’s fucking you open with relentless, eager thrusts.
He’s not going to last long, but you don’t expect him to. You just want him to feel good – the two of you have already wasted enough time not doing this, so why delay satisfaction?
You wrap your legs around his hips to hold him against you, rocking your own hips upward to meet him and coax him closer to the edge.
“I’m going to come,” he grits out, grinding into you desperately the closer he gets to his climax. “Can I finish inside?”
“N-no,” you whimper. There’s a potion you can drink to make it safe that takes an entire week to brew, and the batch that’s currently bubbling away at your potions station across the Room isn’t quite ready yet.
“Where?” he begs.
“Anywhere else, wherever you want,” you promise him, your mind quickly tossing out mental images of him spilling himself across your breasts, into your mouth, on the curve of your back.
He pulls out of you with a reluctant moan and kneels between your open thighs, wrapping a hand around his cock to finish himself off. You watch his eyes while he takes you in, seemingly torn between meeting your gaze and staring transfixed at your fingers between your thighs as you get closer to finishing yourself.
“Next time, love,” you murmur softly. “The next time you fuck me you can finish in me, I’ll take it all.”
“Promise?” he asks breathlessly, still an incorrigible flirt even when he’s seconds away from his orgasm.
“Promise,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider when you catch his gaze lingering again.
You’re so close, desperately rolling your hips against your own hand until you tip over the edge, the rush of your release arching your back before you collapse lazily against the bed.
He shuffles forward and groans your name just before he spills, leaving a warm, wet mess all over your stomach and between your hips. You feel properly claimed – especially when he flops down next to you and immediately tugs you against his chest, unbothered by his release smearing between your bodies.
“You’re amazing,” he breathes into your hair. “Merlin, I love you.”
“You love me?” you whisper against his collarbone.
“Enduringly,” he says.
You rest your cheek against his chest and listen to his racing heartbeat for a few moments before you tell him, “I love you too, you know.”
Just then, the Room starts to rumble.
“What’s going on?” Sebastian asks, urgently peering around for his wand.
He quickly settles and even laughs under his breath when he sees the Room shifting around the two of you to provide a spacious, sunken bathtub in the middle of the room, complete with a luxurious amount of taps that undoubtedly offer an array of bubbles, salts and soaps.
“Oh, now you want to let me clean myself up?” Sebastian drawls. “After you’ve completely worn me out, hmm?”
“It’s more for me,” you giggle. “I can’t possibly sleep like this, but you’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
As if Sebastian would ever pass up the chance to feel you up in the water.
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interstellarsystem · 21 days
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Little Plural Things
Systems can present in a lot of different ways. Sometimes, being a system can be loud and obvious if you're naturally more overt and/or out about yourselves as plural. Sometimes, it can be quiet and barely noticeable, but still there--just harder to see. Our system is fairly obvious if we're unmasked, but there are still things that escape even our own knowledge when we're masking as hard as we can. Little things that to us, remind us that our system is undeniably real. This is a post about those experiences we've had with barely-noticeable signs of a system.
Not every system will relate to these experiences, some might feel similarly about a few points, some may have others of their own entirely, some might not know or not have anything like the experiences we mention, and that's all part of being plural. No two systems are mirror images of each other. This is a post about our experiences.
1. Handwriting
Recently, we've had it brought to our attention that we have different handwriting. We don't write with a pen/pencil often, but we were asked to fill out a worksheet for our psychologist recently. She told us that whoever in our system wants to contribute to it can, and suggested that we signify who wrote what in some way--to which we chose different pencil colours for different headmates. We took the worksheet home and put things on it depending on who was in the front and if they wanted to.
It turned out, that some of our writing widely differs from each other. Out of the 6 people who wrote on the sheet, most of them were wildly different. Rift and Martin wrote the most tidily, with Rift's writing looking more "proper" and "adult". I (Vince) apparently am not the best at neat writing but I managed to be better than what our "normal" writing is like from what we remember. Merlin wrote messily like he was writing very fast. Mystery wrote with very large letters with sharp angles that overall made it look like it was written by a child new to writing. Which makes absolute sense. It's not a child, but its hands in-headspace are bigger than ours and that was the actual first time it had written anything on paper since it got here.
Somehow, it took until our psychologist pointed it out for us to notice how different it was.
2. Vocabulary Choices
Something we are able to notice sometimes is how our vocabulary and sometimes sentence structure changes based on who is speaking. Some obvious examples are our British headmates substituting "bloody" for other words as an exclamation and the difference between what some of our headmates would call a "chip" or a "fry".
Other times though, it's more subtle. Sometimes there's certain phrases that will just have a word or two swapped out and it does tend to point toward who is fronting even if people do use multiple of these. Some examples are:
"I suppose" vs "I think" vs "I believe"
"Kinda" vs "Kind of" vs "Sort of" vs "Sorta"
"Recently" vs "A bit ago"
"Sleepy" vs "Tired"
"Lol" vs "Haha" vs "Lmao" vs a keysmash (Even though these are text-based they are quite telling.)
"Quite" vs "Very" (Speaking of the above.)
Getting more subtle with them, some other examples are:
"You know" vs "Y'know"
"Uh" vs "Um"
"Uh-Huh" vs "Mhm"
Sometimes typing is influenced too. The amount of em-dahses within the text, the consistency of proper punctuation, how mechanical the text feels, how many run-on sentences there are and even how much tends to be written in one message/post can all point toward different people being in control.
3. Accidental Accents and Inflections
While accents are usually very obvious, we're generally good at masking them. Generally.
Due to us living in Australia, our headmates with accents straight from London don't stick out too bad when they're struggling to mask, but they are still noticeable to those around us who know we're plural. Passerby on the street or people who don't see us often don't think much of it, but certain people we are close to know that a few people in our system find it harder to mask and can tell when they're fronting very easily because of it.
Even if we are masking our accents properly, some parts of the way we speak still come out. Some of us end sentences on a higher-pitch more often due to what our accent generally has us do and some end more on lower-pitch notes when speaking. Some of us put emphasis on certain syllables differently. There's lots of little things that go into language that make it hard to completely mask.
4. Food Choices
More of a noticeable one, but something we tend to brush off as "just a bad batch" when it happens. Some of us like and dislike different foods and drinks, some of us to an extreme degree.
Mystery hates the brand of juice we normally buy and thought that it might've just been past expiry (it was not) or just a bad batch of the juice, but they're consistently the only one who doesn't like it.
Rave likes spicy food much more than the rest of us because they have a harder time tasting it. I on the other hand can't handle spicy food at all and am worse with it than the others in my system.
Some of us favour different brands of food and some of us might like/dislike textures of food differently too.
5. Default Facial Expressions
Different resting facial expressions are something we hardly notice because we don't look in a mirror often due to dysphoria. What we do know though, is that some of us just rest our faces differently.
I look more stern and tired than others. I have a bit of an angrier resting expression.
Martin looks a little bit more anxious due to being an anxiety-holder, but he also looks softer and kinder.
Crowley also looks tired but has less of a stern look and more of an almost blank one.
6. Body Language
This is one we don't know too much about because we can only get knowledge on this from other people, but most of our headmates have a different "vibe" by the way they carry themselves.
I end up seeming to-the-point and business-like.
Martin reads as being very anxious even if he's not always.
Crowley reads as smug.
Mal reads as if he's planning something mischevious and silly.
We've been told that Filigree just reads as "gay".
We're not sure what actions make us seem this way, but some of us can be clocked by others around us as fronting without even talking first. I don't know how people do it, but it's something in our body language.
7. Clothing Choices
A few of us have different clothing choices--Crowley still wears sunglasses everywhere due to light sensitivity and wears dark colours, I prefer to wear button-up shirts as opposed to more casual things, Martin prefers hoodies that are lighter in colour and Merlin prefers to dress in pink and black and more fluffy textures.
We don't have too many clothes overall so to others it does just look like we're cycling through our wardrobe, and sometimes we are, but there's certain styles some of us tend to lean toward more than others.
---
Some of these might seem quite noticeable, and maybe they are if you know we're a system, but people change a lot so once again some of this is much more subtle than it sounds. People who don't know that you're a system hardly ever notice, and if they do they put it to "having an off day" and leave it at that.
We wanted to take some time to appreciate those little things we find it hard to notice, though. And maybe it'll end up helping some other system realise how unique they are as individuals and help fight off the imposter syndrome like these realisations did for us.
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your-averagewriter · 8 months
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Can you please write a steamy make out scene with Eggsy Unwin x fem!reader? Tysmm
Summary: Eggsy comes back early from a mission and neither of them are wasting any time together.
Word count: 1.0k
Warnings: Kissing, making out, mention of nakedness? steamy but not smut, suggestiveness.
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My eyes struggle to focus on the TV screen in front of me, some movie playing but I couldn’t tell you which, I stopped watching a while ago, just thinking about when Eggsy is gonna come home. He’s been gone a few weeks now on some sort of mission that neither of us know when it’s gonna end, could be tomorrow or it could be another week.
I nearly drift off to sleep, my head perfectly resting against the pillow of the sofa as I watch the characters on the screen as they run around before the doorbell rings.
Sighing, I pull myself up off the sofa, wondering who it could be at this time, it’s not like I ordered any food or a package. I drag myself through the house, before placing my hand on the handle of the door, opening it, tiredly rubbing my eyes.
“Hello?” I ask tiredly, looking at the person at the door and seeing Eggsy standing there with a smile.
“Hey, darlin’.” He smiles brightly.
“Eggsy, you’re back!” I say, all signs of tiredness leaving my eyes as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my level and into a hug.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asks, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up and placing a kiss to my cheek.
“No, I was just watching a movie.” I dismiss with an excited smile.
“What movie were you watching?” He asks and I roll my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter! You’re here now, I can’t believe you’re back.” I say quickly. “You should’ve told me, I would’ve dressed up or made dinner or something.” I smile, pressing my lips against his, pulling him closer to me and I can feel him smiling against my lips.
“You don’t need to dress up for me, love.” He reassures after pulling away with a grin. “I love you no matter what you wear, I especially love these PJs.” He says, smirking as he thumbs the fabric of my pajama shorts.
“Well, you don’t look too bad in a suit either.” I smile playfully, my hands pressed resting on his chest, playing with the lapel of his suit.
He leans down, placing his lips just in front of my ear. “You know, I think we’d both look better without them.” He whispers and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“You sure? You look really good in a suit.” I tease.
“Oh I’m sure, darlin’.” He says with a smug grin before leaning back down, towards me, pressing his lips against mine, this time his hands are on my waist as my arms snake around his neck, both trying to pull the other impossibly closer.
After a few seconds, he nips at my lips but as my eyes flutter open I remember his glasses and pull back with a small smile.
Slowly, I reach up and carefully take off his spy glasses as he looks at me with an amused yet confused expression as I chuckle.
“I don’t want your little spy friends watching us.” I chuckle as I place them on the counter.
“I think I turned ‘em off.” He says and picks them up to check, putting them back on again for a moment. “Merlin?” He asks, looking off to the side.
“Aye, still here mate.” He says through the glasses, I can only hear because I’m so close.
“I’m switching off.” He says, pressing a button on his glasses. 
“Enjoy yourself, lad.” I hear him chuckle through the glasses before they switch off.
“You should be more careful or next time we’ll have spectators.” I chuckle.
“Would that be so bad?” He grins, a playful glint in his eyes so I hit him gently as a joke.
“Yes.” I say like it’s obvious and he just laughs. “Now hurry up and kiss me.” I smile, looking up at him.
“Whatever m’lady wants, m’lady gets.” He jokes with a charming smile before leaning in and kissing me again, the warmth of his lips a welcomed feeling as they push against mine in a delightful harmony.
His hands find their place on the small of my back, pulling me closer with soft but dedicated movements. My hands move to the base of his head fiddling with the strands of his hair, teasing the gel out, revealing the small curls. Threading my finger through his hair, I tug gently on the brown strands, pulling him closer, forcing his lips against mine.
His tongue swipes against my bottom lip as he pushes me backwards against the wall of the hallway. The impact causes me to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip past my lips and mingle with my own.
His hands move to my hips and I wouldn’t be surprised if his grip leaves marks I’ll find tomorrow. 
He hums against my lips before pulling away breathless, needing to catch his breath and I’m in no better state.
His cheeks are dusted pink despite his confident demeanor, strands of hair falling in front of his face, covering his eyes as he reaches out to fiddle with my top, his fingers quickly trying to undo the buttons.
“Let’s get this off.” He smirks, undoing the buttons, quickly pulling open my shirt, leaving it resting on my shoulder, covering only my back as his eyes trace over my chest. “You’re such a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” He asks with a prominent smirk, his eyes raking over my body despite it not being the first time he’s seen me naked.
Feeling my cheeks heat up at the attention and staring I quickly move my hands to his suit, gripping onto it and pulling it off his shoulder and throwing it onto the floor.
“Thought this was a little unfair.” I mumble, undoing the buttons of his shirt hastily and he certainly doesn’t complain.
“I agree, the less clothes the better.” He grins as I pull open his shirt, pressing my lips against his feverishly, my hands explore the lines of his torso, along his chest as I trace over his body.
“So handsome.” I mumble between breaths.
Pressing his lips against mine, I feel his hands run down the sides of my chest, thumb rubbing small circles on the soft skin.
“God, I missed you.” He whispers against my lips.
“Missed you too. Missed this.” I mumble, wanting to be close to him as long as possible.
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AN: I've got a lot of requests at the moment so if you've requested something and I haven't written it yet I just haven't gotten to it. It's been a busy couple of weeks so just bear with me :)
I hope you enjoyed reading!
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buttrflyisland · 1 year
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so i made my dad watch merlin with me and the entire time it was a Trip like
he renamed kilgharrah "dwayne" for some reason
kilgharrah was his favorite character and he got very excited whenever he had a scene
"maybe you should go talk to dwayne i bet he has an answer- AYYYYE MY MAN WHATS UP DWAYNE"
he hated uther and kept calling out ways for him to be killed
"did he have sex with that troll???"
the episode where lancelot dies he was trying to figure out who dies, so i just asked who they were focusing heavily on besides merlin and arthur and he didn't believe me
"he can't die hes supposed to betray arthur!"
*shade episode happens* "oh okay sure"
"hey maybe you should just tell him you're magic...just a suggestion..." during every minor inconvenience akxjdjckajxf
"kill 'em! blow 'em up!!" constantly
"i was a dragonlord once" "how'd that go?" "pretty good, me and dwayne hung out a lot. ate some burgers"
he was all for killing kid mordred and when season 5 came around and he saw mordred and the snapshot of camlann he was very smug about it
if you want to know, his favorite knight was percival
when i said my favorite was gwaine he then pointed out my habit of liking the dumb but pretty guys and you know what. that was uncalled for.
i cannot get over him calling kilgharrah dwayne. he was fine with aithusa, but apparently "dwayne" was just a cooler name
*after finishing the series* "now just imagine if we had watched this that fateful christmas eve in 2012" "oh yeah no we wouldn't have gone to christmas dinner the grandparents would've just had to understand" FATHER
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purple-dragon-queen · 23 days
Note
You said when you were watching the Descendants rise of red teaser trailer you didn't get to pause and look for details since it was a quick watch but assuming you've watched it fully now, can I get your thoughts and opinions?
⚠️ KINDA LONG POST⚠️
I will be sharing MY thoughts and opinions on The new teaser trailer for rise of red, so if that bothers you it's time to ski dazzle off of My post 💋
Feel free to Reblog with your ideas aswell. Would love to see em
Okay so the first thing I thought of when kylie(red) pulled out all the spray paint and start doing her thing, was Mal. Like Disney bae it's giving Mal dupe.
Second and this one got me cracking was The Merlin Academy. Like My brain totally disregarded it as in I FORGOT ABOUT IT, so imagine to my horror when red is spray painting I see them BLAM! Plastered on the wall in all their Evil Glory.
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Okay so I found this picture on Instagram where someone got a close up and other than Ulyanna, Maleficent, Hades and Hook, I don't know who the others are ( sorry not sorry) Now underneath the picture we can see on a plaque the words "vk students" now this made me realize why the title vk was so accepting when the core four came to aruadon, Because it wasnt the first time the title had been given/used.
Now look at this close up of teen Maleficent all I have to say is Wtf is that.
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If those things at the side of her head are supposed to be horns, respectfully she needs to chop them tf off?? And is she wearing a ponytail??? Now I haven't seen Maleficent in a long time but isn't she supposed to have brown hair? Now idc if they give her a different hair color but the outfit and those HORNS especially are not giving!!!.
Like I saw someone do a redesign of this descendantofthesparrow I think and it was jaw dropping absolutely gorgeous, like mam what's your major? Anyways yeah I've seen this person done a ton of redesign and rewrites that when I watch descendants I'm like "oh yeah, this is Canon and the good stuff is fanfic"
Now this whole time travel thing doesn't make sense to Me because am I really supposed to believe that Hades who's older Than all of them by thousands of years went to school with them? Like what.
I'm going to assume Ulyanna is the Leader of the gang because she's in the middle and everyone else is in the back and from what we've seen the Leader is always in the middle.
Now I have a feeling rise of red will be pushing to make Hades and Maleficent a thing so we can see how Mal became a thing, just an assumption. Respectfully If they try to make hook and ulyanna a thing I will jump tf off. There was something else I wanted to say about Hades and Maleficent but I forgot and will most likely reblog this post when I remember.
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now this is the Queen of Hearts and once again Descendants isn't following Canon because I'm pretty sure Carlos mentioned at one point that he used to drive his mom to the queen of hearts castle.
Now if I didn't know already that this is the queen of hearts and u shoved this pic in my fave and was like "girly who do you think this is?" I WOULD NOT SAY THE QUEEN OF HEARTS, I MEAN JUST LOOK AT HER SHE'S RED! Where are the other colors??? There's no white, no black just RED. Now as a theatre kid we've done better, with less money!!!. Disney I hope you are ashamed because you should be.
Now descendants brandy Cinderella has blue hair which doesn't make any damn sense so I'm guessing that's why Chole has blur hair. I really wish there outfits were better because with the og 4 we could tell what their main colors were without it being to much but now It's Def too much. I've got a few more things to add because I feel like I haven't said everything I wanted to so maybe I'll reblog with more later. Who knows
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riooklee · 3 months
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My NO's in Fanfiction !
TW: opinions
( Just to clarify, this post is ABSOLUTELY NOT made to offend anyone. Seriously, write whatever you want to write and have fun !! I'm just trying to find other people who share the same views as me, thank you<3 )
1) Turning a mlm/wlw ship into a straight ship.
Sorry, but this just gives me the biggest ICK. Literally makes me want to throw my phone out the window, smash my head against a wall and gouge my eyes out. LIKEE, tell me you're homophobic without telling me you're homophobic smh.
You may be thinking rn, "Rio, how do people turn em into straight ships?" WHEN THEY FKIN GENDERBEND ONE OF THEM.
I LITERALLY CRY WHENEVER I TRY TO LOOK FOR A TOMARRY FIC AND I SEE "Female Harry Potter" / "Female Tom Riddle". LIKE NOOOO??? WHY ARE U TURNING MY POOKIES INTO FEMALES... THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A MLM SHIP. WHY R U MAKING IT STRAIGHT??? It's giving "homophobic" !!
P.S. I just wanted to say, NO I AM NOT TRANSPHOBIC. I know some of u lots might jump onto that conclusion. BUT I AM COMPLETELY AGAINST THAT BS.
Don't get me wrong, I'm alright w ppl genderbending characters! NOT WHEN ITS IN A MLM/WLW SHIP THO.
P.S. I know that I can just exclude those tags whenever looking for a fic, but..the thing is, some people DON'T EVEN TAG THAT IN THEIR FICS WHEN THEY TOTALLY SHOULD BE TAGGING IT.
2) Making characters act so OC.
Yes, I do know that it IS fanfiction, people can do whatever they want with the characters. BUT SOME OF THEM MAKE THEM SO OC-ish THAT I CANT EVEN RECOGNISE IF THIS IS THE SAME CHARACTER IM OBSESSED W AND LOVE.
Some people make Harry an "UwU" cutsie little silly guy, all soft, and totes a cute cinnamon roll that he's defenseless and weak that he needs big almighty strong 10-pack Tom to save him because he's too little to do stuff for himself >-< .
EW, ICK.
STOP MAKING HARRY A PICK ME. My guy fought a literal war and defeated the dark lord. So why, IN MERLINS NAME are YOU making him act like this:'((
LIKEE, where's my sassy, sarcastic silly guy?? :((
AND TOM. OH MY DAYSS, TOM. Y'all either make him too mean or too nice I SWEAR. Likee, mean as in would Avada u if u even say a single word to him. LIKE BRO, HE WAS A PREFECT AND HEADBOY. HE DIDNT BECOME SO BECAUSE HE AVADA 'D INNOCENT PEOPLE.
P.S. I'm talking abt teenaged Tom Riddles, Voldie would def kill innocent people ykwim?
Or nice as in would call u pookie wookie bear and cuddle u if u had a bad scary dream. Let's bffr rn.
LIKE, where's my crazy psycho nice silly guy??? DD:
IF U WANT THEM TO ACT SORT OF OC-ish PUT THEM INTO A SITUATION THAT'LL FORCE THEM TO ACT AS THOUGH. Seriously, some can get away w this behavior if it is played correctly!!
3) First Person POV.
Pretty self-explanatory, next.
4) "He growled"
Okay, alpha, remus wannabe, furry looking ahh.
JS STOP PLS, IT'S NOT ROMANTIC AND PPL DONT FIND IT ATTRACTIVE.
When I say "ppl" I'm talking abt myself.
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pastanest · 1 year
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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡
Draco x non-house-specific she/her!reader
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Buckbeak
The expressions on the faces of your classmates were all ones of confusion and curiosity as you all made your way to Hagrid's hut, meanwhile you couldnt hide your glee.
"What's got you so cheerful this morning?" Your best friend, Susan Bones, nudges you playfully "Did Draco smile in your general direction again?"
Immediately, your cheeks flush pink, and you jab her in the side with your elbow. “No! Merlin's sake Susan, not so loud!"
Susan couldnt stop herself from laughing as she rubbed her side. "Alright, alright, Im sorry, but your crush on him is absolutely adorable."
You roll your eyes and look down at the grass to hide your face. "Whatever."
Susan sighs. "Go on then, what's got you smiling today?"
Your smile returns to your face as you reply to her. “You'll see."
The second Hagrid begins leading your class towards the forrest, you feel yourself almost visibly shaking with excitement. When the class stills, everyone begins to talk amongst themselves, and, as per usual, Harry and Draco have an intense, but mildly humorous, interaction. For the first time, though, you find yourself entirely undistracted by Draco, because your eyes are fixed on Hagrid, and when he turns to face the rest of the class again, you find yourself unsurprisingly grinning.
"Duh, duhduhDUH!" Hagrid cheers to gain everyone's attention, and the class falls into silence. "Isnt he beautiful? Say hello to Buckbeak! A family who raises these wonderful creatures has kindly let us borrow Buckbeak for a while, so that I can teach ya about ‘im. Since she's far more familiar with these creatures, (Y/N), why dont you tell us about 'em?"
And, in an instant, every pair of eyes belonging to the classmates who usually ignored your existence, are fixed on you. Susan's jaw is hanging open as she realises why you havent stopped smiling. Despite your usual shyness and lack of confidence when speaking in front of others, you casually step forward, beaming as Buckbeak faces you and tilts his head to the side in recognition. You turn to the rest of your classmates.
"Buckbeak is a Hippogriff, and, as Hagrid said, my family raise these creatures. We run a sanctuary, in which we locate lost or abandoned baby Hippogriffs, raise them around their own kind, and then release them back into the wild when they're ready. Buckbeak, however, is the only Hippogriff we've ever had who has chosen to stay with us rather than fly out into the wild. Hippogriffs are very proud creatures, incredibly easy to offend, and for that reason, many deem them to be unapproachable. But, with the right amount of respect, it's relatively easy to gain a Hippogriffs trust, and they're very affectionate creatures." Still smiling, you spin on your heel and calmly stroll over to Buckbeak, who greets you by nuzzling into your hair, causing you to laugh, before continuing to talk. "Now, because Buckbeak is familiar with me, I no longer need to take the steps in order to gain his trust. Today, though, some of you will be trying to do just that."
Your classmates stare back at you in horror, but Hagrid is smiling at you proudly. When you initially approached him to discuss your family, Hagrid was overjoyed, and almost begged you to find a way of him meeting a Hippogriff. Together, the two of you persuaded Dumbledore to bring Buckbeak onto the grounds.
"Who'd like to come say hello?" Hagrid asks, causing everyone except Harry to take a step back, making it appear that Harry had in fact volunteered himself, causing you to chuckle.
"Harry! Well done!" Hagrid beams, then turns to you.
"As I said before, Hippogriffs are very proud creatures, and trust me when I say you do not want to insult one. The first thing to do, Harry, is to bow in front of him, and if he bows back, you can approach him." You instruct, gently stroking some of the feather's on Buckbeak's shoulder.
Nodding at Hagrid, you let him carry on with the lesson, feeling a little guilty at how much you have said. Then again, you've been surrounded by these creatures your entire life, so you've grown up to be an expert on their characters. You watch on as Harry successfully approaches Buckbeak, and laugh to yourself when Hagrid lifts Harry onto Buckbeak's back. With a tap on his rear, Buckbeak is sent sprinting off, before pushing upwards and gliding through the air effortlessly, with Harry clinging to him for dear life. A warm feeling spreads through you as you remember the first time you flew with Buckbeak.
Just a few minutes later, Harry and Buckbeak return to the forrest, and Hagrid is quick to lift him off of the Hippogriff's back.
"How am I doin' on my first day?" Hagrid quietly asks the two of you, his back facing the rest of the class.
"Brilliant!" You and Harry reply in unison, causing you to laugh at each other.
"Oh, please." You hear Draco muttering as he gets to his feet, and you look around Hagrid to see what trouble he's getting himself into.
To your horror, you see Draco sauntering towards Buckbeak, without making any effort to show him respect.
"Yes, you're not dangerous at all are you? You great ugly brute." Draco declares, and you gasp.
"Malfoy, no! NO!" Hagrid tries to stop him, but it's too late.
Buckbeak stands on his hind legs, flapping his wings viciously as he kicks Draco's elbow with one of his front hooves, sending Draco to the floor, crying out dramatically and gripping his arm. You jump in between them, holding your arms up and locking eyes with Buckbeak, and shushing him until he calms down again.
"It's killed me, it's killed me!" Draco whimpers.
Hagrid begins to panic. "C-Calm down, it's just a scratch!"
Hermione speaks up. “Hagrid! He has to be taken to the hospital!"
Hagrid nods to himself and bends down to pick up Draco, though you're sure he can stand on his own. "Im the teacher, I'll do it."
"You're gonna regret this-" Draco begins, and Hagrid looks over his shoulder to dismiss the class. "-You and your bloody chicken!"
Sighing to yourself, you bite the inside of your cheek anxiously. Buckbeak nuzzles into your hair again, sensing your discomfort, and you reach up to stroke the feathers on the side of his face, but this time it does little to reassure you.
The sound of your shoes hitting the floor is the only thing you can focus on as you pace the corridor outside the hospital, battling with yourself internally. If Draco's father finds out about this incident, it could not only ruin your family's business, but it could...you shake your head, dismissing the mere thought of what could happen to Buckbeak. You've had a crush on Draco since your first year at Hogwarts, and you've managed to avoid talking to him at almost every opportunity, out of fear of literally dying of embarrassment. However, in this situation, you have no choice but to confront him. Wringing your hands nervously, you continue to pace the hallway. Pansy and Blaise leave the hospital, finally ending their visit to Draco, and you take a deep breath before walking in. Your eyes dart around your surroundings, glancing at every bed until you find Draco, staring up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. Oh Merlin, he's gone to sleep! Gasping, you turn to walk away, keeping your head down as embarrassment swallows you.
"What are you doing here?" Draco questions suddenly, causing your entire body to jolt in surprise as you stop walking.
Turning to face him, you keep your head down, your cheeks now an even darker shade of red, just because he's talking to you.
"I-I, uh, I wanted to make sure you're alright. Buckbeak being here, it's because of me, which means that this...what happened to you, i-it's my fault. I truly am sorry about your arm, Draco." You trip over your words, your hands clasping the sleeves of your robes.
Draco sighs. “Dont apologise, it isnt your fault, (Y/N)."
You frown, lifting your head slightly. "Y-You know my name? And what do you mean, Buckbeak is my responsibility!"
He shakes his head. "Of course I know your name, and no, you cant be responsible for a wild creature, it's in its nature to attack."
Suddenly, your head snaps up, your cheeks returning to their normal colour. "No! It isnt in Buckbeak's nature, or any Hippogriff’s for that matter! Draco, please, you have to believe me, I've lived with them since I was born, Buckbeak only attacked you because you offended him! Had you even approached him in a relatively calm manner, without bowing, he would only have backed away from you, Buckbeak is the friendliest Hippogriff my family has ever encountered! And if you hadnt been so caught up in your own ego, or your testosterone fuelled battle with Harry Potter, none of this would have happened!"
Draco smirks. "Wow."
Your anger evaporates. "What?"
He laughs casually. "That's the first time you've ever said more than a few words to me, and it's because I've been attacked by your demon chicken."
Your blood begins to boil again. “It wasnt an atta-"
Draco waves you off, interrupting you. "I know, I know, but you're still only talking to me because you're worried that my father is going to hear about this."
You stare at him. “Well, that is your answer to most obstacles you encounter."
Draco bursts out laughing. "You are far more fiery than I thought you were! Your words hurt more than my arm!"
You laugh with him and look down at the floor, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Sorry about that, I dont mean to be rude, it's just...Buckbeak."
Draco sighs in defeat. "Look, if that bloody bird means so much to you, I'll tell my father that my injury was caused by Potter or something, I'd rather blame him anyway, gives me more of a chance of winning our...what did you call it? Testosterone fuelled war!"
You beam at him. "Really!?! You wont get Buckbeak in trouble!?!"
Draco smiles back at you. "I was never planning to, considering how much you care for him, but had it been anyone else, particularly Potter, I wouldnt have hesitated."
You frown. "The fact you wouldnt have hesitated to put Buckbeak in danger if he was someone else's responsibility isnt very nice. Buckbeak is a creature of his own, he isnt a pawn for you to use for your personal gain. Why did my care for him change your mind?"
Surprisingly, your arguments against Draco's points dont seem to aggravate him at all. “I've always had somewhat of a soft spot for you, I see the way you blush when I smile at you, it's very cute."
Your eyes widen, and your whole face flushes stoplight red in embarrassment. "Oh."
Draco laughs again, and you find yourself thoroughly confused at this easily amused, laid back side of him. "Dont look so mortified, you must have noticed the way I look at you! Whatever feelings you have for me, I can assure you, they are well reciprocated." He smiles. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"
With this newfound information, an unexpected and previously unexperienced confidence swells within you, and you smirk mischievously at Draco.
"I think I have a better idea for our first date, but we're going to have to wait until your arm is healed."
From that moment on, you and Draco are almost constantly exchanging flirtatious glances, and regularly sending each other owl-delivered letters, in which you get to know each other better without actually speaking very much face to face - an ideal scenario for two people who are awaiting their first date. Draco frequently questions you about it in his letters, and you refuse to give anything away, until the day arrives when his arm is fully healed.
Draco grips your hand as tightly as he can without hurting you, as you lead him further into the forest, a blindfold shielding his eyes from the scene around him.
"Where in Merlin's beard are you taking me?" Draco asks, amusement and nervousness mixed into his voice.
"You'll see!" You giggle excitedly, bringing a smile to Draco's face, despite his nerves.
When you reach your destination, you let go of Draco's hand, and take a few steps away from him.
"Okay, you can take the blindfold off now." You tell him softly, watching him with a grin plastered on your face as he reaches up behind his head and unties his blindfold.
Draco takes the thin piece of fabric away from his face, and blinks rapidly as his eyes adjust to the light. The moment he sees what you have in store for him, though, you can tell that he wishes he still had the blindfold on. Because you're standing just a few feet away from him, casually leaning against the Hippogriff that injured Draco, with your arms crossed and a sly smirk decorating your features. And when Draco sees the saddle that you've placed on Buckbeak's back, all colour visibly drains from his face.
"If you think Im getting on the back of that bloody chicken, you have never been more wrong about anything in your life."
But, as his soft spot for you later proves, you were very right in thinking that Draco would be getting on the back of your giant horse bird.
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s0cksssss · 8 months
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sirius: i have adhd
remus: took you long enou-
sirius: a dangerously huge dick
remus: oh my merlin
james: *from across the room* yeah you tell em pads
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Text
Two Weeks of Whump: Summary
Well the challenge has since past, but I just wanted to thank everyone again for taking part! I think I’ll keep this challenge as a yearly thing to mark the blogs anniversary - but I’ll organise it for the month of June so it doesn’t clash with Whumpmas In July!
There were many great submissions and I enjoyed checking them out! (Though I am very sorry if I missed anyone - please tell me if I did! - I did try my best to lurk in the tags/mentions)
Over on AO3 there have been 25 fics across 11 fandoms!
Fandoms: Avatar (James Cameron Film), The Amazing Spiderman, Batman, Detroit: Become Human, Empires SMP, Gravity Falls, Merlin, Sly Cooper, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Transformers (IDW Generation One) Venom.
Here on Tumblr there have been approx.128 posts across 20 fandoms (not including original/OC works), and 16 different users with posts ranging from giftsets, art, fanfics and original works!
So major props to:
@dalekdi | @jedi-lothwolf | @janetm74fics | @sodascribbles | @keeper-of-all-the-random-things | @shywhumpauthor | @isamajor | @whumpsday | @dresden-syndrome | @sowhumpful | @dollopheadedmerlin
Especially the completionists:  @em-writes-stuff | @how-much-for-a-whump | @heymanatee and @ktkat99 | @cyborg0109
Sadly I cannot offer a badge this year or more comprehensive stats, though I’m sure that I’ll be able to prepare something for next year, given I’ll have more experience after helping to mod Whumptober. 
Once again, thank you all so much for checking it out/taking part, it’s been so fun seeing what our very talented community has been working on - I’ll see you all again for Whumptober!
Surro :)
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weirdraccoon · 3 months
Note
Hi bestie🤭 apologies for the many requests I’m about to send to you Teeheehee
Ok so first one I’m thinking of:
Fig’s reaction to Em-Sea getting drunk. Like legit plastered fuckin on the floor crawling she so gone😭
MC *knocking on Fig's door*
Fig: It's two in the bleeding morning.
MC: Hey~ Prefes'r Fi-hic!
Fig *pulling MC into his quarters*: MC! What in Merlin's beard?
MC *stumbling inside*: I- wuv'u, Prefes'r. You're tha best.
Fig *helping her up and helping her to the couch*: Where did you even get alcohol?
MC: I duno.
Fig *sighs*: We'll talk in the morning. Go to sleep.
MC *snoring already*
Fig *shaking his head*: I didn't have this many white hairs before, did I? Stupid kids and their stupid mistakes.
I was thinking he's not happy at all but as any parent, he knows it'll be a waste of time to scold a drunk teenager when they're so clearly wasted. However, come morning he'll wake MC up in the most noisy way possible, scolding her before giving her a hungover reliever and then scolding her some more. It's not that he didn't do that when he was her age, it's that she was completely gone and she could've had an accident or someone could have taken advantage. So, his wise and parental advice is "don't do it again, and if you do it again, at least tell him so he can keep an eye on you."
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shadowtriovibes · 11 months
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pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat
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pt. i: break a sweat || pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: E
Word Count: 3.6K
Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (m receiving), shower sex, dirty talk
Summary: part iv: after the events of the Quidditch Cup final, you and Sebastian sneak away to do what you always do – but this time you don't get as far as the castle...
"Hang on… Did someone leave the shower on?” one of the boys asks, and you feel panic bubble up inside your stomach. Always quick on his feet, Sebastian calls out, “Larson, I’m just finishing up in here.” “Sallow!” Andrew calls out delightedly. “What in Merlin’s name are you still doing here? You ought to hurry up, I imagine your housemates are waiting on you to start the party.” “Won’t be long,” he insists – far too casually for someone who’s got his fingers inside you, you think. “Give me some privacy, will you? I’ve just been flying for an hour, I smell foul.”
By the time spring rolls around, few at Hogwarts are surprised that the Slytherin Quidditch team has rather easily carved a path to the Quidditch Cup final. Sebastian has played brilliantly all year, almost always securing the Snitch well before the opposing team can rack up anywhere near enough points to give the Slytherins a true challenge. Even when he doesn’t, Imelda’s intense training regimen has the Chasers in tip-top shape to earn enough points to secure a win regardless.
What is a surprise is that the Gryffindor team managed to claim the other spot, meaning that the possibility of a rematch between Sallow and Prewett was undoubtedly the hottest topic of conversation leading up to the final.
To others, Sebastian is convincingly calm about the matter. You, of course, can tell that he’s quite nervous – he’s having trouble sleeping at night, and his usually robust appetite has dwindled to practically nothing.
“Please eat some breakfast, Sebastian,” you ask him the morning of the match. “At least some toast.”
“I’m not hungry,” he insists sullenly.
You glance where his gaze is pointed and see that Leander Prewett is haughtily holding court at the Gryffindor table across the hall, already dressed head to toe in his uniform. Undoubtedly he’s bragging about how he’d almost one-upped Sebastian the last time the two of them had come to blows – probably leaving out that he surely would’ve wound up with Nurse Blainey overnight if he hadn’t apologized to you.
“Bash,” you croon, luring his attention away. “Don’t pay attention to him.”
“He’s a twat,” Sebastian grumbles.
“He is,” you agree. “And today you’re going to thoroughly trounce him and the rest of the Gryffindor team without coming to blows. Promise?”
“Sure,” he says unconvincingly.
“I heard Clopton was taking bets on whether you’d get into another fight,” Anne interjects with a grin. “He’s got fair odds on Prewett, but better ones if you duke it out with anyone else on their team.”
“Come now, Anne,” Ominis scoffs. “You know well and good that the best odds are on whether or not they use their wands this time.”
“You two are not helping,” you hiss.
By the time Sebastian leaves you to go warm up with the rest of the team, you’re a ball of nerves yourself. It only worsens when Hogwarts’ student body gets up en masse and makes its way down to the pitch. Anne and Ominis join you in the stands in the best seats you can wrangle, but even being the Seeker’s girlfriend doesn’t mean you can secure the prime seats down the front – those had quickly been snapped up by the most fervent of Slytherin supporters.
(Mostly excitable underclassmen who had arrived hours ago, but also some more senior girls who you are quite certain are only there to watch Sebastian.)
Once Kogawa starts the match, Sebastian and Leander both take off for opposite ends of the pitch. You have no way of knowing which one of them has spotted the Snitch already, but you think it’s likelier they’re both merely avoiding each other.
Sure enough, an hour flies by with little action from either Seeker. Thus far the Slytherin team has done a respectable job by putting their team into the triple digits, but Gryffindor’s Beaters are particularly vicious and manage to knock a Bludger into Priscilla Wakefield that sends her tumbling into the grass. All of a sudden your team is down a Chaser.
“Bollocks,” Anne grumbles.
“It’s going to come down to the Snitch now,” Ominis says ruefully. “There’s no way Slytherin wins without it.”
“Come on, Bash,” you whisper, watching him weave between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sections in an easy loop, eyes fixed on the pitch.
Suddenly he swoops low toward the pitch and just barely skims the grass before he’s arcing high up into the air. The crowd around you gasps – surely he’s spotted the Snitch if he’s flying around like that, they must think.
But instead of heading back toward the ground or circling the pitch in pursuit of the glittering golden ball, you realize that he’s on a path to collide with the Slytherin students section. Then before your very eyes, Sebastian pivots at the last second, vaults himself off his broom and tumbles right over the railing and into the stands, leaving his Yew Weaver floating in midair fifty feet above the ground.
The crowd around you erupts into noise – shouts, scoffs and astonished yelps break through as he starts to muscle his way through the spectators and climb the stands toward you.
“Bash!” you yell, bewildered. “What in Merlin’s name do you think–”
He cuts you off with a bruising kiss when he reaches you, wrapping one arm around your waist to haul you against his chest. Someone near you catcalls, setting off a wave of delighted laughs, and you vaguely hear Violet McDowell make a very displeased sound.
“Sebastian!” Anne exclaims. “Have you actually lost your mind?!”
“You can snog any time, you oaf,” Ominis hisses. “You’re in the middle of a match!” 
“Not anymore I’m not,” he breathes against your mouth.
Without breaking away from you, Sebastian lifts his right fist into the air and reveals the thrumming Snitch he’d evidently scooped up right off the ground, its wings unfolding and fluttering proudly. The Slytherin section becomes impossibly louder as students begin to cheer and chant, “Sal-low! Sal-low! Sal-low!”
The announcer calls the match and far below you, Imelda hoists the Quidditch Cup into the air while the rest of the Slytherin team haphazardly lands on the ground and tackles her into one big group hug. Sebastian remains in the stands with you, one arm wrapped around you protectively while your fellow students bombard him with congratulations.
Slowly the student section empties onto the grass in a sea of green, with students splitting off in waves to return to the castle. You know the real party will be taking place in your common room, but the energy on the pitch is simply electrifying.
Sebastian gets a turn hoisting the cup high above his head and he even lets you have a go at lifting it, as well as both Anne and a bemused Ominis, who finds the whole thing just a touch too rambunctious for his tastes. Fortunately, as it was the last game of the season, Imelda doesn’t round up the team to go into the changing room to discuss their performance, which means most of the other players take off rather quickly.
At one point, you catch Sebastian looking at you with heat in his eyes, and a similar heat starts to pool low in your stomach.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask him teasingly. “Care to share with the class?”
“Not here,” he murmurs, glancing around at the crowd. “Come on.”
He takes your hand and starts to weave out of the crowd with you, making your way toward the tunnels where the empty changing rooms are located. The drop in volume is stunning once you duck inside the canvas tunnel, and by the time Sebastian pulls you into one of the changing rooms, it’s practically silent.
“Wow,” you whisper.
“It’s charmed so we can’t hear the crowds when we’re meeting in here,” Sebastian explains. “Bit intimidating otherwise.”
“Of course,” you breathe, but before you can say another word he’s pulling you against his chest once more and kissing you senseless, his gloved hands skimming across your body.
“B-Bash,” you stammer. “Let’s go, we – we can hurry back, c’mon.”
“I’m not going to make it upstairs,” Sebastian insists. “Love, I need you. Right now.”
“I do too, but what are you suggesting, we simply do it here?” you ask insistently. “We’re in public, Sebastian.”
“No one is here,” he explains. “The entire team went straight back to the common room to celebrate, we’re all alone.”
…He does have a point.
“All alone?” you murmur hesitantly. “You’re positive?”
Sebastian grins at you like he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “I’m quite sure.”
It’s honestly embarrassing how easy it is for Sebastian to talk you out of your robes. You’re stripped down to your chemise before you can even get him to take off his sporting cloak. Once you’re standing completely bare in the middle of the changing room and Sebastian is tugging off his dirt-stained trousers, you peer around the empty space. Save for the lockers, benches and a chalkboard covered in Imelda’s strategic illustrations, it’s largely empty.
“How are we going to do this?” you ask him skeptically. “Conjure a bed?”
“I have a better idea,” he says with a cheeky grin.
He takes your hand and starts to walk you to the back of the room. Around a corner you find a square, tiled room with six taps sticking out of the walls, looking much like ones lining the bathtub in the luxurious prefects’ bathroom.
“Are these showers?” you ask, surprised. “Wait. You’ve had a shower here this entire time?”
“I’ve never really used them much,” he says with a shrug. “Since the teams went co-ed, it doesn’t seem fair to make the girls walk all the way up to the castle to have a bath, so we let them use it.”
“How chivalrous,” you snort.
Sebastian turns on the taps and the room starts to fill up with steam from the warm water. You find yourself shivering standing there nude, so he gently walks you underneath the running water and smiles brilliantly while you gasp and giggle at the feeling of being soaked with water in such a large open room.
“Good idea?” he asks teasingly.
“Great idea,” you tell him as you tug him toward you for a lazy kiss.
You can feel that he’s already half hard at your hip, and thanks to the water it’s all too easy to reach down and slowly stroke him until he’s moaning into your mouth and bucking against your hand.
“Let me touch you,” he whimpers. “Merlin, I need to feel you.”
He walks you back against the cold tile wall and coaxes you into lifting a leg up onto his arm, knee hooked over his elbow so he can part your thighs and grind the head of his cock against your slit. He doesn’t dip inside, not yet, but that little bit of contact makes you both moan, the sound echoing off the tile.
He’s just worked two fingers inside you and is murmuring mindlessly about how good you feel when you hear the door to the changing room slam open. You both freeze.
“Why would it be in here?” a voice you don’t recognize asks.
“I don’t know,” another voice laughs, but you realize this voice belongs to Andrew Larson, one of the Ravenclaw boys in your year who shares Astronomy class with you and serves as captain for his house’s Quidditch team. “But I’ve looked everywhere else, so maybe I left it here after the game last week.”
“Just look quickly, alright? We’re missing the Slytherin’s party for this,” the stranger grumbles.
You’re trembling, one of your legs still lifted while Sebastian winks at you and curls his fingers inside you without saying a word. You squeak and slam your eyes shut – he’s evil for that, you think. 
“Hang on… Did someone leave the shower on?” one of the boys asks, and you feel panic bubble up inside your stomach.
Always quick on his feet, Sebastian calls out, “Larson, I’m just finishing up in here.”
“Sallow!” Andrew calls out delightedly. “What in Merlin’s name are you still doing here? You ought to hurry up, I imagine your housemates are waiting on you to start the party.”
“Won’t be long,” he insists – far too casually for someone who’s got his fingers inside you, you think. “Give me some privacy, will you? I’ve just been flying for an hour, I smell foul.”
Andrew and his companion both laugh understandingly.
“Fair enough,” he relents. “I’m just looking for a library book I’ve lost, if I don’t find it Scribner will have my head.”
“Good luck, mate,” Sebastian offers cheerfully.
Then he pulls his fingers out of you and lets you lower your leg so he can turn you around. Facing the wall of the shower, Sebastian nudges your thighs apart with his leg and lines himself up with your entrance. Aided by the water he easily sinks inside you and presses you against the wall. You gasp sharply, both at the intrusion and at the feeling of the cold tile against your hardened nipples.
“Shh,” Sebastian whispers against the back of your neck. “You must be quiet, love, or I’ll have to stop. D’you want me to stop?”
“No!” you whimper. “Please don’t stop.”
Your fingers claw at the wet tiles trying to grab onto something, anything to help ground yourself as Sebastian grinds deeper inside you. You feel exposed in a way you’ve never felt before, with no blanket to hide under or door to slam shut behind you. You’re bare in the middle of an open shower, and should either boy in the other room round the corner to the showers for any reason, you would have no way to hide what Sebastian is doing to you – what you’re doing together.
You had no idea that the threat of being caught like this, doing something so improper in such a public way, would be so erotic.
“Good girl,” Sebastian murmurs. “Be nice and quiet and they’ll never know you were here.”
You can hear Andrew and his friend chatting aimlessly about Ancient Runes while Sebastian fucks you, taking care to stick to slow, deep thrusts so the sound of wet skin on skin doesn’t alert the nearby boys to what’s truly going on.
Even without the quicker pace you both usually prefer, the slow, thorough fucking you’re receiving is enough to drive you mad. You feel claimed like this, like you were merely there in the stands that afternoon to offer Sebastian a wanton reward for his victory – a prize he can bury his cock in.
You can’t help the desperate keens that slip out every time he hits that sinful spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. Sebastian can tell you’re barely holding on, so he waits until he’s fairly positive he heard the changing room door shut behind Andrew and his friend before he starts to properly lay into you, hips smacking loudly against your ass.
“Touch me!” you plead in a desperate whisper. “Bash, I’m so close, please.”
He laces one hand with yours against the wall for leverage and slides his other around the front of you to find your clit. Three fingertips pressed right against that sensitive spot is all you need to see stars, and Sebastian chokes on your name when you reach your climax and go fiercely tight around him.
You’re still a panting, writhing mess after you come back to yourself, making Sebastian groan in frustration while you squirm from sensitivity on his cock.
“Love, if you can’t find a way to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet, I can certainly think of one,” Sebastian hisses.
“Please,” you whimper, expecting him to place a hand across your mouth and tip your head back so he can continue whispering pure filth in your ear.
But instead, he pulls out of you and grabs you by the hips to turn you around.
“On your knees,” he says softly. “Finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”
Merlin’s beard.
You quickly drop to your knees on the wet tile and place your hands against Sebastian’s thighs. He’s so solid and warm here, even with the water still pouring over you both.
He holds his cock steady for you with one hand and with the other he tips your chin up so he can meet your gaze and whisper, “Tell me if it’s too much and we’ll stop, alright?”
Eagerly you nod and let your mouth fall open for him. He curses softly while he guides the tip of his cock inside your mouth, letting you briefly suck on the sensitive head before he starts to press in deeper. Your eyes drift shut while you take him and you concentrate on relaxing your throat so he can properly claim your mouth how he likes, until your nose brushes against the lowest part of his pelvis.
“Merlin, you’re so good at this,” he breathes. “Go on, love, show me how much you love to taste me.”
He’s a rotten scoundrel for saying it out loud, but you do love this. Sebastian tells you that most times he would prefer to be inside your body rather than your mouth if given the choice – he insists it’s too decadent, too self-serving. But that’s precisely why you enjoy it, you tell him; you get to simply pleasure him, and it feels entirely apt that you should do so after such a heroic win for your house.
On top of that, you’re quite taken with his cock.
The warm water of the shower has washed away all the sweat, dirt and grass that had clung to him even after he’d stripped off his uniform. Now he just tastes of slightly-salty skin and the bittersweet taste of the precum he’s leaking onto your tongue, and you're addicted to the way your lips have to stretch around him to accommodate his size.
You moan around the length of him in your mouth and his hips twitch eagerly.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Keep going.”
You slide your hands up the length of his thighs to his hips and pull him closer, coaxing him into rocking his hips toward your face. The whine you make around him is pitiful and needy.
“You want me to use this mouth, darling?” he asks you knowingly. “I’ve got to do everything myself, have I?”
You have to ask yourself, why is it that he’s maddeningly irresistible when he’s being an utter prick?
Sebastian laughs softly to himself, well aware that if you weren’t in the middle of sucking his cock you’d be rolling your eyes at him. He gently cups your face b your jaw and drags his thumbs along your cheeks. He’s done this with you before, but he’s always insistent on being exceptionally careful with you, reverently mindful of your trust in him.
Then he starts to carefully fuck your mouth, holding you still while he rocks his hips in and out. He takes his time to let you breathe between lazy thrusts and murmurs soft words of encouragement every time you swallow around him.
“Such a lovely mouth,” he sighs. “You’re going to swallow every drop I give you, aren’t you love?”
Yes, you wish you could say. Yes, Bash, all of it.
His pace quickens when he’s getting close, shifting away from those deep grinds that invade the back of your throat to more shallow thrusts that have him dragging the most sensitive part of him across your tongue over and over again. Your eyes are still shut but you can easily picture what he looks like: flushed red down to his chest, drops of water clinging to his shoulders, his wet curls hastily brushed off his forehead so he can see you on your knees for him.
“Open,” he gasps, and when he hastily pulls out, you open your mouth for him with just a tease of your tongue sticking out. Placing one hand on the wall behind you to support himself, his other wraps around his cock and swiftly strokes himself until he’s spilling onto your tongue, your bottom lip, even your chin.
You’re a mess: flushed, dazed and covered in Sebastian’s spend.
“Fuck’s sake,” he gasps. “Quite cheeky of you to look that good the second I finish.”
You smirk up at him and drag your tongue across your bottom lip, collecting some of his mess and sucking it off before swallowing what you’d caught in your mouth. His softening cock twitches weakly and he groans like he knows it would hurt, but he’d happily stuff himself back inside your mouth for as long as you’d let him right this very minute.
“Do you think we should properly shower now?” you ask softly. “So we can go to the party?”
“Forget the party,” Sebastian counters. “How about you and I go up to the Room and have our own little celebration?”
“You’re such a rake, Sebastian,” you sigh, accepting the hand he offers to stand up off the tile floor. “You just had me and you’re willing to put off celebrating with all your friends, your sister, and all the Butterbeer you can drink just to have me again?”
“...Yes?” he answers, as if confused why you’re even asking.
You just scoff and shove him under the running water, giggling delightedly when he sputters and whines at how the water plasters his hair to his forehead. You sweetly brush it back for him and give him a kiss to soothe his pride, letting him taste what remains of himself on your tongue.
When you do finally get redressed and join the party, Ominis makes a face like he knows exactly what the two of you were up to.
“You know,” he murmurs as you claim a spot on the wall next to him. “I heard Andrew Larson telling some of the other Ravenclaws that he heard Sebastian Sallow in the showers after the match – and that he thought he wasn’t in there alone.”
“W-what?” you stutter.
“I don’t suppose he had any company?” he asks casually. “I noticed you too were quite late to the party.”
“No,” you lie. “N-no, I just – went to the Room of Requirement afterward to drop something off.”
Then he deadpans, “Your hair is still wet.”
“There’s no way you could possibly know that!” you protest.
“I do now,” he smirks, and you curse under your breath.
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