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writer-komaru · 10 months

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˚.* ꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ *.˚ Sin Soaked Silk .ೋ .ೃ˚, ੈ ׂׂ ೄ’

✧Rating: Smut

✧Characters: Simeon

✧Word Count: 4k

✧Summary: On one faithful evening while you and Simeon are hanging out in his room like normal, you notice the revealing clothes this supposed angel of has on. How ironic, you think. It would be a shame if… someone were to, well, run a hand over his exposed sides… maybe a finger down his lovely back… if he didn’t want to get touched, why does he keep everything out in the open, huh? Simeon has to just sit there and use all his strength he has to fight back against these impulses. What kind of angel would he be if he gave into sin? But… it’s just so tempting… Why must you be so alluring….?

Times like this really made you appreciate the life you were blessed with. You, a normal human, were sitting in the bedroom of an Angel. Not metaphorically, a literal, real-life angel. But you were pretty used to it at this point. Ever since you discovered the worlds of Devildom and the Celestial Realm, you’ve been met with otherworldly encounters with strange beings one after the other, beings humans don’t even have the mental capacity to understand. But, as Solomon always told you, you were special. Your attention suddenly snapped back to Simeon as he gently tapped your thigh.

“Is everything alright, MC?” He asks kindly.

“Yeah I'm fine, just kinda got distracted. Anyways, what were we doing?” You turn your body to the right to face him.

He chuckles, “We weren’t doing anything in particular, but I can find something for us to do if you'd like,” He stands up and walks over to the large darkwood bookcase over in the corner of his dimly lit room. As he examines them, your eyes unintentionally fall on the exposed state of his back, just barely covered by the see-through material of his robe. His muscles were so defined, like an intricately sculpted marble statue. For an angel, you would have thought he’d do his best to cover up and look presentable in a formal sense, not wear the most scanty outfit known to mankind. You giggled to yourself as he returned carrying two identical books.

“You seem rather happy about something. Wanna tell me about it?” He smiled at you while laying one of the books on your lap.

“On, it’s nothing,” you stifle another giggle and pick up the hardcover book. The title reads, If the Orchid Petals Fall, in fancy, shiny letters. The cover is decorated with numerous ivory petals, surrounding the hunched figure of an angel, its wings seemingly transforming into the flurry of petals. It was quite a beautiful cover.

“What’s this book about?” You flip it over and admire the back.

“It’s something Micheal gifted me a while back. He told me it reminded him of me for some reason, but even after reading it on my own, I still can't quite understand his reasoning,” Simeon hums as he glances over the first few pages, “I thought maybe if we read it together I could get a second opinion and decipher what he was trying to tell me.”

“I see. Reading isn’t really my thing, but this book does sound pretty interesting. I’ll give it a shot,” You flash him a smile.

“Thank you kindly, MC. I do have to warn you, Micheal has a very… Interesting choice in books, and that doesn’t exclude this one. I think it would be best if I just wait here while you read,” He scratches the back of his neck shyly.

You raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean by interesting?”

“You'll soon discover for yourself,” A faint blush dusts his cheeks. You cock your head at him and continue reading. It isn't long before you discover what Simeon was hinting at. This book seems to be dealing with some very sinful topics for having such an innocent looking cover. The angel next to you peeks over at the page you’re on and immediately looks away, his blush only getting deeper. It’s almost amusing. Could this be Micheal’s plan all along; give Simeon an inappropriate book and tell him it has some special meaning so he has no choice but to read it over and over again? What a trickster…

“Maybe it would be best if we do something else, something we both can do together?” He laughs nervously and stands up, reaching out a hand to take back the book. You quickly finish the page you were on and give it back to him. As he puts it back on the shelf, a rather exciting idea comes to you. If Micheal really was doing this to prank Simeon, it wouldn’t hurt taking part, would it? He reaches up to the top shelf to insert the books in their rightful place, unknowingly flexing his back muscles all for your enjoyment. With a devious smirk, you slowly stalk up to him and run a light finger down the middle of his spine. A large shiver runs down his back as he releases a small gasp.

His head whips around to face you, “W-What was that for?”

“Hehehe, my bad. It was an accident,” you shrug it off.

“That didn’t seem like an accident,” he narrows his eyes and turns around to face you, “Are you playing some sort of prank on me?”

“Of course not, who do you take me for? Mammon?” You cross your arms confidently. Your eyes wander over his body, soon locking onto the small side windows his shirt can’t seem to cover up. He follows your eyes and tilts his head curiously.

“I gotta question, Simeon…” you slowly inch closer, causing him to inch back and lean against the bookcase, “Why do angels like to wear such immodest clothes?”

“That seems rather inappropriate, don’t you think?” He chuckles softly and looks away, unable to meet your determined gaze. He felt almost helpless.

“It’s an honest question. You and Raphael both seem to wear clothes that I thought were unbefitting of an Angel. Don’t you get in trouble or is it normal for an Angel to wear very little?” You lean closer to his ear, making his body twitch slightly.

“Well uh… it’s kind of a sign of purity for us angels to wear outfits that might be seen as… um… revealing. It’s not something I usually mind, to be honest, it’s a lot more comfortable than wearing large amounts of bulky clothes,” he smiles, sweating nervously.

“I see… I guess that makes sense. But it kinda leaves you a bit vulnerable, doesn’t it? What if someone came around and… did something like this,” you finally rest your hands on his tantalizing waist, causing him to let out a small, surprised gasp. He tried to flinch away from your touch, but you stayed persistent. That’s as until he peeled your soft hands off of him and held them on his own.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but I can’t really allow you to t-touch me there,” he looks at you apologetically.

“And why not?” You whine, looking back to his gorgeously exposed skin.

“Because I’m an Angel. I’m not really allowed to engage in such private acts like that. It’s… uh…” his voice trails off as your hands slip out of his grasp and cup his face. It feels very warm, obviously caused by the wide blush on his cheeks.

“Come on, Simeon. Do you think I don’t see the blush you’re trying to ignore? You like this, don’t you?” You tease and rub your thumbs over his cheeks.

“I-it doesn’t really matter if I like it or not, it’s not allowed. In order to represent the goodwills of the celestial realm, all angels, no matter their rank, have to abide by the same rules. It’s our law,” his voice almost makes it sound like he’s begging you.

“But it’s just a small touch to your waist. Why is that so prohibited?” Your hands somehow find their way back to his sensitive sides, making him shiver yet again, “I’ve hugged you here many times before, why is this any different?”

“B-because this obviously is way different than a hug, this is… this is… this is dangerous,” he bites his lip and grabs your wrists to pull your hands away yet again.

“Why is it so dangerous? It’s just a touch~,” you whisper teasingly in his ear.

“You know what you’re doing. I told you, you can’t do this, it’s… ah…” he freezes as a small moan leaves him. Did he… did he really just? You smirk sinisterly, “Oh?~ what was that noise for?”

“I-it was nothing, now please, let go of me,” he tries even harder to get your teasing hands off his body, but it’s clearly unsuccessful. He gets more and more frantic as your fingers inch up his body.

“Ah! P-please, you can’t do this, if the higher ups find out I gave into something frivolous like this, I’ll get in so much trouble,” he begs and squirms under your touch. It felt so wrong, so clearly wrong. A pure angel like him being touched in such a risqué way like this, he had to do something before he made an even worse mistake.

Suddenly, you feel your hands yanked off his body as he darts out from the vulnerable position against the bookcase in a symphony of fluttering feathers. You look over to your left to see a very flustered Simeon racing for the door.

“Simeon, I wouldn't do that if I were you. If anyone else sees you like that, you’ll ask questions. And besides, I know you’ve got to be at least curious,” you state quickly in hopes to catch him in time before he escapes. He freezes yet again, you were clearly right. His breathing was ragged, his cheeks were stained wine red, his pupils were dilated. The only thing he could do was try to escape but risk bumping into someone else, or stay here with you and risk falling into your advances. But… your advances… Even though he knew it’s dangerous, he seemed rather intrigued. He weighs his options and reluctantly lets go of the door handle.

“Just… don’t go around telling any of the others about this. I don’t want to lose my position,” he sighs as he walks over to the couch and sits down.

“Fine with me. This can just stay between us,” you smile sweetly and rest a hand against his thigh. It was pretty exhilarating thinking that you’ll be this Angel’s first taste of something sinful. He looks at you with fearfully innocent eyes as you shift over onto his lap. You were so close, he swears he could almost feel your heartbeat. As your hands found purchase on his waist yet again, his mind called out to him. This was clearly wrong, clearly inappropriate for an Angel like him. He was supposed to be a being above desires and vices, he was supposed to set an example for humans and angels alike. Maybe, just maybe if he held out a bit longer, he could find another opening to escape. He could quickly run out of the door and hide out in the kitchen for a while until his aroused body finally calmed down. Yes, that’s just what he will do-

His thoughts dissolved like melted butter as your sinful fingers slid under his skin tight black shirt and by the gods did it set his souls alight. His breathing picked up as a whimper escaped his lips.

“Wha.. what… are you…” he could barely stammer out a complete sentence as your fingers inched further and further up. He looked completely dazed, biting his lip, eyes unforced, chest heaving. It was absolutely gorgeous.

“Oh? Has the pure angel Simeon lost the ability to speak already? Too lost in the feelings of desire?” You teased him. So cruel, worse than cruel; he was helpless and vulnerable under you and you were enjoying it. He felt weak, like such a weak angel for allowing a human to come onto him like this and even go so far as to enjoy it. His body was sending mixed messages to him, to both run away and give in at the same time.

“Ngh,” he gasps as he realizes how dangerously close your fingertips were getting to his chest. No, no no he can’t let this happen. If you touch him there, there’s absolutely no way he’s going to be able to fight back. His trembling hands try to reach up for your wrists.

“Please… don’t.. n-not there…” he begged with an airy voice.

“Shhhh pretty angel, just relax. There’s no use fighting this, just let me show you the world of pleasure you’ve been missing out on,” you smirk down at him, causing him to gulp nervously. Pleasure? H-he can’t, he can’t give in to one of the major deadly sins like pleasure. He has to be strong, for him, for his friends, for every being in the celestial realm.

He whines and tries to squirm free, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. Can't give into this, I’m an Angel, I’m an Angel, I’m an…” his eyes almost roll back as the pads of your fingers finally reach his delicate chest, gently swiping over his nipples. An elicit moan finally leaves his mouth as his brain turns to mush.

“See? Isn’t it good?” You coo and cup the expanses of his chest. Is this really what he’s been fighting against for oh how many years? This feeling… it’s euphoric… so strangely euphoric, like nothing this poor angel has ever felt. Why does it feel so good? It’s just his chest. Another louder whiny moan escapes him as you press harder.

“You really haven’t been touched anywhere like here before, have you? Have you been fighting it back or have you just never felt the urge to have these places touched?” You whisper vulgarly in his ear.

“Angels… are supposed… to suppress these feelings… never give in… or else it’s a sin…” he explains in between heavy breaths, “When I… would feel… like touching… I… would just read a book… until it goes away…”

“Aw, that sounds so annoying. Have you been close to giving in before?” You smirk as you give a small squeeze to his chest, delighted as the moan you're gifted with.

“Nghhh... hah… mhm. I’ve gotten… close… on days where uh… uh…” he stammers, looking away shyly.

“Come on, if you tell me the truth, I’ll reward you?” You coo to him. Reward…? That sounds interesting.

“Well uh… on days where I would feel… especially p-pent up, I… I would… sometimes have thoughts… of… someone… helping me with it…” he admits, clearly ashamed of himself for having such fantasies as an Angel.

“Ohhh?~ So you fantasize about someone coming along and relieving you of your impure urges?~” You hum fondly, a spark of excitement enters your mind. Could it be possible he had a…

“Would you like to tell me more about this particular idea?” You ask sweetly, rolling his hardened nipples in between your fingers.

“Aghh… hah… that feels… ah, a-anyways, it’s not really something I think I should say out loud. It’s rather… profane…” he mumbled with embarrassment. What kind of angel was he, being groped by a human and telling them his dirty fantasies? It’s so wrong but… something about the wrongness of it all causes him to twitch desperately in his tight slacks. Your eyes widen as you feel the twitch and press right against your backside.

“Hehehe, you’re a dirtier angel than I thought,” you tease as you squeeze his nipples, “Don’t tell me you like being touched like this? Does it excite you?” You tease as you give his nipples a light squeeze. His eyes shut tight as he whines.

“Mmm… I wonder. You’ve had your chances to escape and you’re definitely capable enough to overpower me, yet here you are, laying still as I taint your pure body. Why could that be…” you faint a curious expression as you tease the poor angel even further. You're pretty sure you know the reason why, but using the truth against him to exploit him a little more is far more interesting. You press your thumbs harshly against his nipples.

“Aghhhhh.. p-please…” he has no idea if he’s begging for you to be gentle or rougher.

“I think I’ll just let actions speak louder than words~” you smirk devilishly as you finally give an experimental grind of your hips down onto his aching erection. Simeon feels every nerve in his body light on fire with a burning passion, releasing an embarrassing loud moan as he grasps your waist. Your smirk widens as his lovely reaction; it was everything you could have hoped it would be. Desires of lust surge through his body, all the temptations he's resisted for millennia return to him full force to leave his poor, desperate body aching for relief.

“Mmmm someone’s pent up, look at how hard you are,” one of your hands sneaks down to pull down his white pants and expose his throbbing dick. He groans, it’s so fucking hard and leaking everywhere, it’s so embarrassing.

“You've been trying to resist it for so long, what would happen if I…” you sinisterly brush a finger over the tip as it twitches even harder.

“Aaghh… ahhh…” He moans.

“Oh? Did that feel good?” He coo.

“Ahhah… ahhh… y-yeah… d-damn… I can’t believe… this is happening…” he internally curses himself for falling victim to you. He watches weakly as your hand wraps around it and starts pumping him slowly. This feeling, oh gods, this feeling is something he’s dreamed about for so long. He knew he shouldn’t but having to ignore it for so long has put some rather perverted thoughts in his mind. And all those daydreams and fantasies were finally coming true. He couldn’t hide the goofy smile on his face as your hand squeezes harder.

“Hehehe~ I guess instead of fantasizing about an unknown face helping you with your urges, it will be my face instead,” you cooed, greeted with a deep groan in response.

“Oh? You like that? Like it when I say you’ll only be able to think of me and this moment from now on?” You chuckle as his hips jump up to catch your strokes. He nods, completely lost in the pleasure.

“Am I going to make you obsessed? Is that what it is?” You move your panties to the side as soon as his head leans back.

“Yeah… ahh… ah! Aghh?! W-wait, is that your?” He whines loudly as your dripping, gorgeous pussy rubs over his tip. He hates to say the lords name in vain but god fucking damn it… it felt so, so good. He wants to push in, he wants to feel it squeeze, he desperately wants to go in. His poor, one pure mind is only filled with thoughts and urges to sink his aching dick into your mouth-wateringly tight and wet pussy. He wants it, so, so bad, please, please give it to him. He doesn’t care what happens, he needs it too bad. And as soon as you grant his wishes and sit down on him, he keens. His nails dig into your hips as he thrusts into you like a desperate animal in rut. He doesn’t even know fully what he’s doing, he just needs to fuck, more than anything this world has to offer.

“Aghhh someone’s being eager, couldn’t even wait Ahh, a little bit longer. Aghh you’re so big… aghhh, just keep going,” you wrap your arms around his neck and ride his dick with all the strength you’ve been holding back, lifting your body up and sliding back down.

“Nghh- Hahh, Aaghhhh!!~” Simeon moans in between sobs and heavy pants, flipping you over so your face presses into the velvety couch and your ass is raised right into the air. You look so alluring, so vulnerable like that… he can’t control himself as he mounts you and pushes his twitching cock into your quivering pussy. He sobs and cries as he clings to your hips. Even if this stopped for just a second he thinks he might die. It’s just so good, so tight, so warm. He just needs more, more, more, he can’t help himself anymore.

“Aghhh please please please, I can’t stop, can’t stop!!~” he cries out as he goes impossibly faster, making your eyes roll back as he fucks right against your cervix. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he pushed in further and further, losing the last remaining traces of purity.

“I’m sorry… aghhhhh I-I’m sor… sorryyy… aghhhh!~” His voice cracks as he humps your pussy faster and faster, toes curling each time it squeezes around him. Could this be the message the book was trying to give him? What kind of message even was this? He doesn’t even know anymore, all he knows is he needs to keep thrusting into you until his desires finally relax.

Little did he know this was just the start of it all. He realized it as soon as his hot cum stained the walls of your cunt. This wouldn't be enough for him. It would never be enough. He fucked you over and over and over again, on almost every since surface he could find in his room, trying to relieve the prominent desire that itched just below his skin. He just couldn’t stop, the poor angel was completely enthralled by you, he just couldn’t control it. As your blurry eyes, aching with tears looked back up at the once sweet face that would always smile back at you, you instead saw a darkened, lustful face staring back at you with new light green and black horns standing proudly on his head and a pair of jet black feathered wings fluttering behind him. Maybe playing a prank on him wasn’t such a good idea, you thought to yourself as you felt his dick growing inside of you.

“Aghhh… so good… never… gonna stop…” He heaved as he squeezed your hips harder.

But you gotta admit, it felt good as hell. Its length stretched you out so well, reaching the deepest parts of your pussy your fingers could only dream of touching. You couldn’t stop cumming, over and over again, you were honestly beginning to lose consciousness.

In your delirious state of ecstasy, you pick up on the slight turning of the door handle out of the corner of your eye. On the other side of the door, Solomon was mere seconds away from walking in on an angel falling victim to sin.

“S-Simeo- aghhh simeon t-the d- nghh the door!!” You stammer out between strained moans but it’s already too late.

“N-ngh?” Simeon’s head snapped over to the white haired man that entered the room. His wings immediately wrapped around the two of you to block your leaking bodies from the intruder's view. His scared, sharp eyes peeled from in between his feathers as they ruffled in intimation, releasing a soft growl. Yet through all of this he kept up the same back breaking pace against you poor, abused pussy.

“Uhhhhh… is this a bad time?” Solomon snickered bashfully as a sweltering dark aura surrounded him. In retaliation, a blinding light radiated from Simeon’s eyes and glittering white feathers circled around him. You whined nervously at the impending fight that seemed ready to explode at any second, till suddenly, in a flash of dark red and pink energy, Simeon was wrapped tightly in thorny, blood tinted vines. He groaned in pain before his thrusts came to a halt and his head slumped over.

“Phew, that could have gone a whole lot worse. I have no clue what you two were doing in here and I don’t think I wanna ask. Hope it was fun though,” he started walking back out the door, “Oh, one thing. Because of the magic I used, he might be a bit… ‘excited’ when he wakes up. Just give him a good ‘release’ and he’ll knock right out. When he wakes up again he'll be right back to normal. Good luck, my pupil~” he gave a delightful wave before leaving you all alone with the problem you created. With a shiver you gently tried to cup his cheek, only to jump back at the bright pink eyes that flashed open. He easily ripped apart the vines and smirked at you with a look of pure dominance, a look in pure contrast to the sweet smiles he used to give you.

His voice came out as a low growl, “You… look… delicious. I… need you… so fucking bad right now…” a terrifying shiver shook your body in place.

As Solomon blissfully skipped down the hallway with his hands in his pockets, he chuckled to himself when he heard your screams of fear and pleasure rattling the walls.

“Hehe, those two must be having fun. Maybe I’ll get to join them next time~”

Reblog + Comment + Like if you wanna see more obey me or Simeon specific posts!~

(Phewww finally done and kinda happy with it! Next is either thirteen or another idea I’ve had recently~ you’ll find out soon enough <3 also comment if you wanna join or leave tag list)

{Tags 🏷️: @letgobro }

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #Simeon #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #simeon x mc #obey me smut #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #fem reader #afab reader #enjoy corrupting this pretty angel boy <3

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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

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dance in a storm in my best dress

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3K

Summary: by request: "I have a fun idea! How about Sebastian and f!mc are "just friends" until one day she asks him to help her try on/give his opinion on some new dresses, and desire and spice ensue??"

"Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow," the shopkeeper says. "I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly." While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options. "Have you even put one on yet?" you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. "Merlin's beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!"

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say softly, shyly tucking your face a bit deeper into your oversized scarf as you avoid snow swirling around you.

It’s not an intense blizzard by any means, but nevertheless you appreciate that Sebastian had agreed to trudge down to Hogsmeade with you that afternoon when he could have spent the day with a dreadfully boring book by the fire in his common room, which is typically how he spends any free time he has as a seventh-year N.E.W.T.s student.

“Of course,” he says easily. “It’s about time I came up for air, so to speak.”

Despite the ongoing pressure of your final year of school, it had felt like all of Hogwarts had been abuzz about the upcoming holiday ball for what felt like weeks. Even you and your treasured trio of Slytherins had made plans to go together, and your daydreams of twirling across an enchanted dance floor in a fabulous gown had helped get you through some of the most arduous study sessions you’ve ever experienced.

With your end-of-term exams having concluded the day before, there was now only one thing standing in the way of you blowing off some steam at the ball with your best friend.

You need a dress.

Poppy had been the one to inform you that Mr. Hill had specially ordered some lovely fabrics from London as soon as he’d caught wind of an upcoming formal occasion. While it’s certainly too late to have anything custom made, you hoped you’d be able to find something in his shop that would suit you with a few minor alterations.

You’d invited Sebastian to join you on your shopping trip primarily for moral support, as the two of you were going to the ball together as friends.

(Anne had been quick to claim Ominis as her date so that she wouldn’t have to take her own brother, and you and Sebastian had been equally loath to bother asking anyone else.)

However, you suspect you may also need some help physically donning the dresses. You may not know much about what’s in fashion these days, but hearing some of your classmates boast about precisely how many garment layers they’d be wearing had nearly made your head spin.

“Do you have your dress robes?” you press him skeptically. “Anne said you were procrastinating.”

“Yes, nosy,” he laughs. “Ominis made me pick some out last weekend, and Mr. Hill should have them in for me by now.”

“Good,” you say primly. “You’ll have to try them on while we’re there and make sure they fit.”

“This is now my second trek into Hogsmeade for this silly ball,” he points out with a cheeky grin. “I hope it’s going to be as enjoyable as you lot are saying it’ll be.”

“It will,” you insist. “We all need something like this, something that’s just… joyful, I suppose.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you with a tender smile.

“Fair point,” he agrees. “Right as usual, you are.”

“You’re still surprised after all this time?” you tease him, bumping your shoulder against his while he laughs.

When the two of you walk into Gladrags, Augustus Hill perks up excitedly and slips out from behind the ornate counter.

“Ah! Just the young witch and wizard I was hoping to see today,” he crows. “Come in, come in! I dare say, it’s awfully frigid today.”

You hang up your cloaks while Mr. Hill rustles up a tray of tea for the both of you. Ever since that troll encounter years ago, the Gladrags shopkeeper has always had a soft spot for you and Sebastian, which often results in the two of you feeling downright spoiled every time you visit him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hill,” you say as you accept the warm mug he offers.

“Mister Sallow,” he says as he hands Sebastian his tea. “Your dress robes came in just this morning! Why don’t I send you off with young Otto to try it on and mark up any alterations?”

You glance warily at Sebastian, reluctant to split from him as you do your shopping.

As though he’d read your mind, Mr. Hill laughs and insists, “He won’t be kept long, my dear! Fitting a young man’s dress robes is a much simpler task than that which you have on your hands, I should expect.”

“Why don’t you just pick out some things to try while Otto works his magic?” Sebastian teases. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Once you agree, Mr. Hill sends Sebastian to the backroom while you sip your tea and discuss some of your preferences with the kindly shopkeeper. You admit to not being very knowledgeable about fashion, but you have some colors in mind that you think may suit you – as well as very strict expectations on how much range of motion you want to maintain.

“I need to be able to breathe,” you insist, glancing hesitantly at some of the impossibly small corsets in the window display.

Peering over his spectacles with a wise smile, he answers, “I think that can be arranged.”

He then begins to show you the collection of remaining dresses he has in stock. As the premier clothier for the majority of your fellow witches at Hogwarts, he doesn’t have an unlimited supply this close to the ball, but his selections don’t disappoint.

“This blue color is quite pretty,” you sigh, gingerly inspecting the sleeve of one of the dresses he offers.

“I suspected you might like that one,” he says brightly. “Let us pull it for now and select a few more for you to try on, hmm?”

You end up also selecting a red gown with a smart-looking cape that would show off your house colors brilliantly and a crisply white evening dress with delicate golden embroidery around the bottom of the skirt.

“This should do for a start,” Mr. Hill says.

“Really? No green?” Sebastian asks from behind you.

When you turn to remind him pointlessly that you aren’t actually a Slytherin, your words fail you.

He looked utterly dashing in his dress robes. At first glance, he appeared to be wearing what looked like a Muggle tuxedo, but the extra-long tails and high collar gave away that it was most certainly wizarding apparel. His jacket and pants were both inky black – so dark that they appeared to even darken the room around him, or maybe you had just lost focus of everything that wasn’t him.

Of course, having been expertly fitted by Otto, Sebastian’s robes seem to cling to every inch of him. The waistcoat makes his waist look exceptionally narrow, or perhaps it’s that his chest looks so broad. His shoulders appear to be broader as well underneath his jacket, and while the long tails might appear to shorten other men, on Sebastian they merely elevate the length of his legs.

He slips on a pair of white gloves that Otto hands him and you bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. He looks like a proper gentleman dressed like this, you think – not at all like the haphazardly-robed young man you’re used to seeing.

“Ah! Excellent,” Mr. Hill says with a clap, breaking your trance. “A perfect fit.”

“How do I look?” Sebastian asks you teasingly.

“B-brilliant,” you stammer. “It, um. Fits. You’re fit – I mean, it fits very well.”

“Of course, we’ll charm the waistcoat to whatever color you’d like to match your dress, once you’ve made your selection,” Mr. Hill explains as he gestures to the garment. “Or simply leave it white.”

“Of course we’ll match,” Sebastian says easily. “But getting this one to make a selection isn’t going to be easy.”

You scoff and turn back around to the rack of dresses to hide your persistent blush.

“Go on and change back into your robes, Mister Sallow,” the shopkeeper says. “I suspect we’ll be inquiring about your opinion shortly.”

While Sebastian returns to the back, Mr. Hill summons a modesty screen around the rack of dresses you’d pulled and waits patiently while you slip out of your school robes and wrestle your way into that first dress – the periwinkle blue. There are so many layers that it takes you at least ten minutes to even put on your crinoline, which Mr. Hill assures you he’ll let you keep on for all three options.

“Have you even put one on yet?” you hear Sebastian call out when he returns. “Merlin’s beard, you’ll take on a den of trolls by yourself but you’re bested by today’s fashion trends!”

“Come and help me then!” you whine.

“Er – is that alright?” Sebastian asks Mr. Hill.

“Of course!” he exclaims. “He’s your date, it would be unchivalrous not to assist you.”

That’s when you realize that Mr. Hill probably thinks you and Sebastian are properly dating, but for reasons you don’t want to admit to yourself just yet, you don’t correct him.

You could also sorely use some help as well.

“Mind the petticoat,” you mumble as he ducks behind the screen.

You’re both quiet as Sebastian helps carefully bundle up the skirt of the dress and drape it over your upright arms, slowly working it down your body so that it doesn’t catch on any of the boning in your corset. Once the skirt gracefully pours down over your petticoat, you gently smooth the bodice and turn around so he can lace up the strings crossing your back.

“Too tight?” he asks softly.

“N-no,” you murmur. “You can even do them a bit tighter, actually.”

You gasp softly when he pulls on the strings and cinches your waist tighter, and Sebastian pauses for a beat, but you don’t instruct him to loosen it.

Once he fumblingly ties the strings together at the small of your back, he mumbles, “All set.”

He offers you a hand to steady you while you shuffle out from behind the screen. Mr. Hill immediately laves praise onto the dress, and while you agree that it is quite lovely, a glance in the mirror reveals that periwinkle blue just isn’t a color in which you shine.

“No matter,” the shopkeeper insists. “Onto the red, shall we?”

Sebastian again helps you slide the dress off up over your head and replace it with the red one, this time lacing you tightly from the start. There’s a delicate cape that goes with this one, so you turn around to face him so he can drape it over your shoulders and tie the small silk ribbons that sit just at your collarbones.

“Ought to be plenty warm in this one,” he jokes halfheartedly, trying and failing to resist the urge to sneak glances at your décolletage.

“Is the cape a bit…?” you ask quietly, wrinkling your nose. “Is it too much?”

“What?” he asks dumbly. “O-oh, no, I – I think you look great. It’s a great dress, really.”

You’re nearly as red as the dress when you emerge for a second time, and once again Mr. Hill thinks you look like “a buxom Beauxbatons beauty from the boulevards of Paris.” However, regardless of your house pride, if you’re going to be blushing like this all evening at the ball – and the odds on that are significant – you know you simply can’t go with red.

“I have one more to try on,” you tell Sebastian softly. “It’s that white one, just there.”

You notice Sebastian’s gaze linger on the ornate embroidery, a pleased look passing over his face.

“It’s stunning,” he tells you. “Shall we get it on you?”

You merely nod, not trusting yourself with words at the moment.

The moment Sebastian helps you slip into the white dress, you know you have a winner. As if imbued with magic (and perhaps it is indeed), the white silk shimmers almost like the fresh snow outside the shop window. However, instead of feeling like a proper ice princess, you feel warm all over – especially where Sebastian’s hands mindlessly reach out to trace the fine embroidered patterns on your bodice.

“You look…” he exhales. “You just need to see, come on.”

He walks you out for the last time and even Mr. Hill refrains from commenting until you twirl in front of the mirror, your skirt gracefully lifting and falling with your movement.

“...I look beautiful,” you whisper. “Oh, Mr. Hill, it’s just lovely.”

“This is the one,” Sebastian insists. “You have to pick this one, it’s hardly even a choice.”

“Your companion is correct!” Mr. Hill crows. “My dear, it’s as if that gown was made precisely for you.”

Otto comes by to charm a few simple adjustments into the fabric of the dress and you watch yourself in the mirror with wide eyes as it molds itself to your body. Now it looks just like one of those custom dresses in the illustrations that the girls in your year pour over in the shopping pages at the back of the Daily Prophet.

“I think we’re done here,” Sebastian says quietly, his eyes still fixed on that one embroidered seam at your waist where your bodice meets your skirt.

“Of course,” Mr. Hill agrees. “Let’s get you out of that crinoline so I can send you two lovebirds on your way for a nice Butterbeer or two!”

As he babbles on about how it’s just like the last time the two of you came into his shop together, you meet Sebastian’s gaze and realize both of you are steadfastly refusing to correct the man. You know that you’re blushing, but seeing him blush just as fiercely is quite revealing.

After you pay Mr. Hill and make plans for Otto to deliver the dress to the castle once the storm lets up, you and Sebastian wordlessly trudge down to Sirona’s lively pub. There you manage to snag a small booth in one of the far corners – one that you’re well aware is a popular spot for snogging.

“So…” he says softly. “Lovebirds, are we now?”

“Don’t start,” you warn him. “You know how Augustus is, it’s usually just better to let him talk than spend all afternoon trying to correct him.”

“You didn’t even try,” he observes.

You counter, “Nor did you.”

Just then Sirona drops off your drinks and Sebastian forfeits his turn in your verbal duel by taking a pointedly long sip.

Then you forfeit your own turn when you get too distracted by the bit of Butterbeer foam on his upper lip to offer anything remotely witty.

“Well, regardless,” Sebastian eventually murmurs. “You did look beautiful in that dress.”

“Thank you,” you say. “And you were very handsome in your robes.”

“Proper fit, one might say,” he retorts.

The cheek, honestly.

“Sebastian,” you say quietly. “I need you to be honest with me about something.”

“Go on,” he says, taking another long sip while you consider your words.

Slowly, you ask him, “Since we met… have you ever once thought about us being more than just friends?”

“Have I ever once thought about it?” he repeats. “Of course I have. Countless times, probably”

“Then why haven’t you ever said anything?” you ask, staring deep into your mug to avoid having to meet his eyes.

You flinch slightly when Sebastian reaches across the table and plucks one of your hands off your mug. He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you closer, and the noise in the room seems to dwindle to a whisper as he meets your gaze.

“Between you and me, you’ve always been the brave one,” he tells you earnestly. “And I’d rather have only friendship with you than ask for too much and lose you entirely. Believe it or not I have learned when to stop.”

You smile ruefully at the reminder of just how much Sebastian has grown since you chose to give him the chance to do so.

He drags his thumb across yours. “So, if you want to be brave, I’ll be brave with you.”

You exhale shakily before you finally confess, “Of course I want to, Seb.”

You’re nearly in his lap at this point, and there’s absolutely no way the conversation you’re having could be interpreted as merely friendly by any onlookers. So, you think, why not be brave?

When you kiss him, the first thing you notice is that he tastes like the caramelly richness of the Butterbeer you’d both been drinking. But then it melts away and it’s just him, just Sebastian. He’s wonderfully warm, and underneath the initial sweetness he tastes a bit like the fluxweed stem he mindlessly chews on while he studies to help him focus.

His nose slots against yours as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, and you wonder what he’s noticing about you.

But a moment later, the feeling of his warm hand on your thigh immediately makes you lose your train of thought.

“Seb,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to press your forehead to his.

“Let’s go back to the castle,” he blurts out eagerly.

You fondly roll your eyes and let him steal another kiss before you push him back with a gentle hand on his chest.

“I believe you just said something about having learned when to stop?” you tease him.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” he says cheekily.

“You’re just going to have to be patient, Mister Sallow,” you insist as you reach for your drink. “I thought I saw quite the gentleman in you today. I don’t suppose you could act like him until after the ball?”

“I could,” he offers. “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Tell you what,” you bargain, leaning in close. “If you can be a perfect gentleman from now until the ball, I’ll let you help me put my dress on, and then afterward I’ll let you take it off.”

You hear him loudly swallow and take a deep breath before he holds out a hand for you to shake and breathes, “You have yourself a deal, love.”

#my fic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #it's not the yule ball but not NOT the yule ball #i did so much googling about victorian era fashion but i'm probably still wrong #at least it was fun to look at pretty dresses #also when i say the image file i picked for this was originally fuck-off MASSIVE... converting took me like half an hour

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