#I AM FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT FOR PUTTING THIS IMAGE IN MY HEAD 🙏🏻🙏🏻 hope i was able to deliver the vision!!!

[crushribbons]

oh hey… it’s me again (maybe you know who i am… perhaps a certain request about best friend seb might ring a bell). since it’s october i was thinking i should request this fantasy of mine where us and seb go to a halloween party together (as friends, you know how it be) and they start getting drunk and sebastian starts to tease us a bit. one thing leads to another... w/ dirty talk. it might be good to add that seb is dressed as the devil and we dressed up as an angel *evil laughter* PLS AND TY

the way i sprunt to my laptop 🏃🏼‍♀️ YOU ALWAYS DO ME SO RIGHT BESTIE...

𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖚𝖇

summary: All Hallow's Eve brings out the evil streak in Sebastian Sallow.

warnings: 1.6k words, SMUT (18+), brief mentions of penetrative sex, angel/devil costumes, kinda religious ment?, fem reader/oc

a/n: i have no defense for this xx laney

Slosh.

“Ugh.”

Amber liquid splashed out of her goblet and onto her chin, and she recoiled at the unexpected sting of the liquor. The Ravenclaw couple that had muscled past and jostled her hadn’t noticed a single thing, too consumed in finding a free boys’ dormitory, presumably to study for that Potions exam they had next week. Their giggling made Sebastian roll his eyes.

“Children,” he muttered into his own glass of butterbeer. He looked over at her and saw she was trying to wipe the firewhisky from her face with only her fingers and began fumbling around his jacket. Producing a cream handkerchief, he passed it to her, and she sullied it with abandon. Her face once more clean, she frowned at the handkerchief as she handed it back to him.

She asked, “Couldn’t find a red one?” and Sebastian chuckled. He was clad in a borrowed, bright crimson ensemble of Weasley’s, though it far surpassed the typical vibrancy of the Gryffindor colors. 

It had been difficult enough for her to talk him into trekking up to the Ravenclaw common room just before midnight, let alone to convince him to actually wear a costume. “Come now, it’s All Hallow’s Eve, you have to wear something fun!”

“Well, what are you wearing?” he had asked, sourly, trying to look disinterested in the conversation and the tome he was flipping through.

“I found this old, white, sort of…” She’d scrunched up her nose and tried to find the right word to describe the gown she’d found shoved into a chest in an empty classroom one day. “Princess-y sort of thing. And I think I can cast an illuminating charm on the silver bangle Grace is lending me, and make it hover above my head…any guesses?” “Heavenly,” Sebastian had hummed. Her stomach twisted. 

And when he’d met her in the Entrance Hall that night, skipping lightly down the stairs in his red suit, ridiculous pitchfork in hand and some conjured horns twisting out of the top of his head, it had done several somersaults in a row. Fuck, she had thought, he shouldn’t look that nice, he really shouldn’t.

As the party continued raging around them, tipsy teens struggling to hold their alcohol shouting loudly over one another and the silly music playing on the phonograph, she tried to keep the glances she snuck at Sebastian surreptitious. She’d drunk too much already, she knew she had, but her lips were itching to say something stupid, so she busied them with another sip of whisky. Sebastian’s nose and cheeks were a light pink that was no doubt brought on by the few drinks he’d already had, and the portion of his chest she could see atop his vest, covered in light curls of chestnut hair, was flushed as well. Gods damn him, why hadn’t he worn a shirt underneath the suit? 

“Very risqué of you, you know,” she said, and before she could stop herself, she leaned forward and brushed a finger over his exposed collarbone. An electric shock coursed through her finger when she made contact and she yanked her hand away. Behind them, Amit Thakkar plunged his head into the icy bowl of water that he’d thrown several apples into. She hoped vaguely someone would pull him out before the lightweight drowned.

“Couldn’t I say the same of you?” he replied, but his voice was an octave deeper than she was used to, and when she met his eyes, she swore she saw flames spark to life. “You’d think I’d be used to extreme temperatures, being who I am, but bloody hell…you’re fucking blistering.” Seb tapped his glass against the side of his head, indicating the small devil’s horns, and ran his tongue across his upper teeth in a way that suggested he had a matching set of fangs. It made her knees knock together, even though she was seated. 

Drunk, he’s just drunk, that’s all, we both are. Still, the word “blistering” stuck to her just as Sebastian’s eyes did while she fidgeted from the tightness of her cherubic garb. And friends can flirt as much as they want when they’re drunk, can’t they?

She searched for something witty to say, but all her ideas went out the window when Sebastian leaned forward in his armchair so their legs were touching and said, “Want to go bob for apples?” A thousand horrible and corny lines thundered through her head and she clamped her jaw tight so nothing like “I can think of something else I’d rather get my mouth on” slipped out. 

“No, I just want another drink,” she said, raising her voice so she could be heard over the din around them. “I’m starting to be able to think straight.” Sebastian grinned and nodded. He stood and she tried to avert her eyes from the inch of bare stomach she got to see when his vest rode up. Tried to. Sebastian grumbled something about having to wrestle the drinks away from the mad scientist brewing concoctions behind the massive end table that had been designated as the bar. 

She watched as he slunk away through the crowd and silkily slid up to the bar, swiping an untouched bottle of firewhisky while Garreth’s lab-coat-clad back was turned. He waved it in triumph across the room at her and a flare of courage allowed her to raise her index finger and crook it towards herself, mouthing “Come here, then.” Sebastian’s eyes went as large as the jack-o-lantern on the table next to her, and he practically tripped over a clump of Gryffindors on the ground playing spin the bottle as he fought his way back to her.

“Pour me a shot,” she instructed when he stood over her with the whisky. One more and I’m going to kiss this man, I really a–

Sebastian had other ideas.

He clamped the cork in his back teeth and ripped it out with a pop! “Open up, angel.” And before she could protest, the cold, glass neck of the bottle was slotted against her lips and he was tilting it forward, looking down at her with hazy eyes and a smirk. The whisky left a trail of flames down her throat that she didn’t notice, though her eyes watered. When she choked a little on the end of the shot, Sebastian pulled the bottle off, groaning as he did so, “Fuck me, I didn’t mean for that to be so…” 

Her breath caught in her chest. He turned away from her and took a swig from the bottle himself, and if he thought she didn’t notice the way he adjusted his trousers, swearing again under his breath, he was drunker than she was. Dropping back into the chair across from her, he tried to recover by shakily laughing.

“You’re going to lose your halo for that, little cherub.” “The devil made me do it, though,” she pouted back in a tease, but her fingers dug into the flesh on the top of her thigh in an attempt to distract herself from the arousal growing between her legs. As if matters couldn’t get worse, Sebastian huffed and set the bottle down before unbuttoning his vest. He mumbled that it was hot, really hot in here, but she didn’t hear a word of it, too invested in ogling him shamelessly, the same way he’d been eyeing her all evening. 

They both stared at each other for a good while, the noise from the party fading into nonexistence the longer they did so. Consequences suddenly seemed like something to be worried about at a later date. “What are they playing over there?” she asked, leaning around him to look at the Gryffindors Seb had almost trampled a minute ago.

He cleared his throat with difficulty. “Uh, spin the bottle, I think.”

“Oh!” She knew that already. Was very familiar with the game. “And what’s that?”

Ten minutes later, her dress lay, discarded, across some poor second year’s bunk, and Sebastian was mouthing his way from her neck down to her bare shoulder and her fingers were tangling in his hair while they lay on the cold ground. “Seb,” she gasped. Her hands met the horns on the crown of his head and she would have laughed, if his cock hadn’t pressed against her stomach, allowing her to feel how huge he was. As he pulled away, she saw that a pearl of pre-cum had been left behind, to decorate her as his.

“You’re so fucking sweet, perfect,” he muttered, grinding his hips down onto hers and making them both hiss and moan. “Almost a shame to corrupt this innocent little angel, but someone’s gotta do it, hm?” He reached over to the empty whisky bottle on the ground next to them and gave it a lazy spin. It wobbled for a few seconds then stopped, pointing aimlessly at a corner of the room. “Look at that. My turn again.” She squealed in delight as he once more attacked her mouth with a searing kiss that grew heavy and hot. They both tasted like whisky and sweets and it was making them even dizzier than they already were. “Seb,” she choked out once again. “Fuck me, please, just get inside me.” His hands were running up her legs, rough fingertips sending bolts of lightning through her body. Ever the tease.

“Christ,” Sebastian blasphemed with a grin. She let her head loll back while he kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, the hard bulge in his pants grinding onto her wet cunt. “I just want to ruin you. But I am having quite a bit of fun watching you squirm underneath me.” She whined. It had no effect on him. 

When his cock slipped into her, they both gasped. It hit a delicious, spongy spot inside her that made stars burst across her vision. He waited less than a second for her body to adjust to him before he was fucking her ruthlessly, sweat rolling down his forehead and off the end of his nose onto her. “You’re going to have to beg to be let back into heaven after this, my cherub. But, shit–” The sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room, filth permeating the air. “–you feel too fucking good for this to be a sin.”

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