Hogwarts Legacy Oneshots

Long Night 🌶️

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC - (NSFW/Fluff) - 3.5k words

Request: Can I request a Seb x f!Reader where either MC is super tired or Seb is super tired and the other helps them relax. Like by running a hot bath, then giving a really sensual massage? It doesn't have to become NSFW or it can.

Summary: Sebastian helps you wind down, some methods more unconventional than others.

Tags: Pre-Established Relationship, Protective Seb, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Care/Comfort

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It was half past two in the morning when you finally staggered your way back to Hogwarts, having spent the better part of your evening decimating Ashwinder camps around the outskirts of Hogsmeade. As you slip through the common room door, Sebastian rouses from the wingback chair he had fallen asleep on while waiting up for you.

"Please, no lecture tonight," You intercept as soon as you spot him, raising a hand to your mouth to stifle a yawn. "I'm far too exhausted for this."

He opens his mouth to protest, but disgruntledly closes it at the sight of your half-lidded eyes, the weary slouch of your shoulders.

He brings a hand up to thumb at the smear of ash on your chin, a faint look of understanding. "I'll save the scolding for tomorrow. You look like you've been roughed up enough for one night."

You give him a satisfied smile as you sink back against one of the plush couches. "You think I'm roughed up? Should've—" You wince at the contact of the cushions with the abrasions and cuts under your clothes. "Seen the other guy."

He looks unconvinced. "Yeah, yeah," He outstretches a hand in front of you, rubbing the sleep from his own eyes with the back of his knuckles. "Come on, up."

"Do I have to?" You close your eyes, tilting your head back onto the backrest of the couch.

"Yes. You're a mess," He tugs you to your feet despite your groans, interlacing his fingers with yours. "You're taking a bath then I'm putting you in a bed. No more passing out on the common room couch."

"Yes, mum." You quip, your muscles too sore to physically protest, but not compliant enough to go without a fair amount of whinging.

He locks the door behind him as soon as he gets you inside the Prefect's Lavatory, flicking the lights on with a swish of a wand. A set of firm hands on your waist lifts you up on the counter so he can better tend to you. You grimace from the press of his fingers against your injuries and concern washes over his expression.

"May I see?" He asks, fingers paused on the laces of your bodice. You nod.

He unties the latticework of laces with a deftness that only comes from practice, beginning on the buttons of your blouse next. He slips the garment  off your shoulders with a tenderness that contrasts so starkly to the usual hasty manner he tears it off you in isolated alcoves in the Restricted Section, or under the drawn curtains of four-poster beds.

"Lift your arms, love."

He pulls the chemise over your head, yet doesn't linger too long on the sight of your bare chest when he notices the purple contuses scattered over your ribs. He frowns in disapproval, tsks as his fingers trace the bruises with feather-light touches. His gaze snaps back up to meet yours.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

You give him a sheepish smile. "Would you believe me if I told you I tripped on my way to Charms?"