#♡ ––– ｛ featuring ｝ sebastian .

[pressureplus]

Not sure if you have done it or if anyone have already requested it.. but I do like to see a headcanons (NSFW?) on the ovipositor of Sebastian. Like if reader finally agrees to let him pregnant them with his eggs. Kinda stuff like how would it feel like during/after breeding? does it will hurt? How long long does it take? How those eggs/babies develop? And how does the giving birth would be and feel like? Anything like that.

Btw, I love your headcanons and oneshots! <3

So glad you asked! I've been dealing with pain lately so Ive needed consistent care. As per usual we are writing, this one just happened to be finished first. Also, thank you for the compliment <3

♡Sebastian Solace Ovipositor Headcannons♡

Warnings: Describing this Non-Erotically, Implied Sex, Oviposition/Ovipositor, AFAB and AMAB Cannons (God Im Sorry), Pregnancy/Birth Vaguely Mentioned, M!Preg Mentioned

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜

Starting off strong, the moment you agree to have that mans babies he is all over you

Excited, yes, and at the mention of his Ovipositor being put to use he’ll be a little shy but happy to oblige! How can he not be? The idea of having a family almost makes him feel…normal. Happy and normal.

As his tendril is always sheathed, it stays very slick, which makes insertion easier. Despite his absurdly large length (he is well over twice your size) he doesn't need to be all the way inside your body to use said Ovipositor

During the process of actually putting those eggs in your body, it feels…odd. The best way I can describe this is like swallowing those Boba Pearls in drinks? But like…obviously not with your mouth

Doesn't hurt! The eggs arent too large, about an inch in length and diameter, but still not painful! You’d think they would be, right?

This is due to both the slightly muscle relaxant features of said slick, and the flexible nature of his eggs

Despite their size they can easily compress to be smaller if pressure is applied…too much pressure will pop them and make them no longer viable but yes they can get a bit smaller

They're like little jelly balls with a turquoise color

After the fact, you'll really just feel oddly full for the next day or two. These things are decently sticky and almost parasitic in nature so those that are going to continue to develop will be burying themselves into your body

Not a painful process either, by the way

Those that don't end up attaching to anything are not particularly viable as they can't take any of your DNA to make anything. So those really just have to be removed. This can be done decently easily with some pressure applied to your stomach and a bit of pushing

Produces 6-12 eggs on average, but may produce more or less, so you never really know how many actually stuck

The way these eggs develop is rather unnatural to say the least.

If you're AFAB then they'll attempt to fill your uterus much like a normal baby would. They also take as much ‘code’ from your DNA as possible, feeding off your blood for minerals similar to how Anglerfish pairs function

If you're AMAB things get a bit..sticky for you. They'll hollow out their own space inside you, kind of like a very small faux womb. This is NOT painful, but does leave a sort of dull ache like you've just worked out for a while. This small little wound will close behind the eggs as well so they won't be disturbed. They feed off you the same way as they do for those who are AFAB

This pregnancy can last anywhere from 6-9 months depending on how large the batch of eggs is. They do technically ‘share’ their meals so they'll all be ready to hatch at the same time. Think of it like an evolutionary trait for a better chance at survival.

Doesn't entirely feel like pregnancy, you'll feel weaker, bloaty, and maybe a bit sick mostly due to lower mineral/vitamin counts. But as long as you take some kind of supplements or eat healthy you'll be fine

You don't get particularly round or anything either, just a small bump that could easily be passed off as weight gain

On the Plus side for the AFABS, your body does not continue to have its menstrual cycle during these months. They release their own chemicals into your body/bloodstream for a better latch and less chances to be ‘rejected’

As for having these babies? There's conractions/cramping for sure and a bit of blood from where those eggs detach. I wouldn't call them particularly bad contractions, as they're slower and a lot less painful than normal child birth

The body doesn't have to prep as much since they're not normal sized human babies.

If you're AFAB, they'll come out the natural way. If you're AMAB, you're going to need surgery

Surgery is of course an option for both if preferred.

They pop their eggs and are ready to go the second they break, now for the most part the body can just absorb the nutrients in these empty ‘shells’ but they can also be removed. It won't cause additional harm either way

These babies aren't very big when they're taken out

In fact, they're all about palms sized. They're warm to the touch, covered in a bit of blood and whatever liquid is inside those eggs, so they're a bit sticky. But just fine to wipe clean

They’ll be oddly…blue and pale for the first while as they learn to breathe oxygen with their very small lungs. Don't worry, they'll figure it out. They look almost like normal babies aside from this, well, not including those that look more like Sebastian

They’ll develop faster than normal babies as well. Some may even be born with sharp teeth, others will get their set within the first two months.

They're already up and ready to go in about a year or less, as if they're made for survival like wild animals. However this will come at a cost. Your sanity mostly when your 1 year old is chewing through the casings of wires and chair legs.

By the time they're around 5-6 they'll be just a little smaller than the size of a normal human child.

As teenagers getting their growth spurts? Many of your children may end up BIGGER than average humans!

Overall your children will be different, as was the process of having them, but they're still perfectly healthy

[pretzel-box]

The Third Month

Words: 3,2k

Tags: Lots of fluff, comfort, affection, established relationship, seabunny hybrid reader, reader is FEMALE, DO NOT READ WITH A FAINT HEART I WARN YOU

status: NOT PROOF READ OR EDITED.

authors note: Thank you all for 100 followers!!♡

It's been a month since the lockdown began, and your life took a drastic turn when you were picked up by none other than Sebastian Solace himself. Before that day, you had been on your own, treated like nothing more than a lab rat by Urbanshade—a mere experiment in their endless quest for progress. Your memories of the world outside the Hadal Blackside were foggy at best, but one thing you knew for certain: you were different now. A sea bunny hybrid, with soft, pale skin, black freckles and delicate, fluttering appendages on your head that set you apart from the rest of humanity. You had always felt out of place, even before the experiments, but now, you doubted society would ever accept someone as strange as you.

When the lockdown happened, and someone—no, he—freed all the experiments, including you, it felt like a new beginning. With nowhere else to go, you found yourself gravitating toward the one person who had shown you kindness in this forsaken underwater facility.The sea-serpent merchant, had opened his shop to you, offering you more than just shelter. He gave you purpose. Over the past four weeks, you had thrown yourself into helping him run his little store, finding comfort in the routine and the company of the mysterious man who had saved you.

During that time, something unexpected happened. Your cheerful, excited nature, a trait that had once felt like a burden in a world that demanded seriousness and submission, became a source of warmth in Sebastian’s otherwise cold and calculated life. You didn’t notice it at first—how his glances lingered longer, how his touch became gentler, or how his voice softened whenever he spoke to you. But he noticed. The walls he had built around himself began to crumble, and before he knew it, he had fallen hard for you.

And now, here you were, sitting side by side in his shop, the dim lights casting a warm glow over the two of you. Your days had become a blend of work and stolen moments of affection. The once-stoic sea-serpent was now your partner, keeping you safe and secure in all this giant mess.

You ran up to him, your heart pounding in anticipation, arms outstretched for the embrace you had been longing for as if you hadn't seen him in years. Every step you took was fueled by the yearning that had built up during your time apart, a craving for his touch, his warmth, his affection. When you finally reached him, it felt like everything inside you lit up, a warm, comforting feeling spreading through your chest as your emotions surged, deep and intense.

Sebastian caught you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off the ground. The way he held you—his hands gently cradling your waist—was so tender, so full of care, that you felt an immediate sense of belonging, like you were finally home. It was a sensation you cherished, one that you had come to associate with him alone.

“I’m back!” you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with excitement. As you looked at him, your eyes couldn’t help but trace every detail of his face, illuminated softly by the glow of his anglerfish lure. The dim light highlighted his sharp features, and you marveled at the way it brought out the depths of his fluorescent blue eyes. Those eyes, which had once seemed so distant, were now a comforting ocean in which you could easily get lost.

“Welcome back,” he replied in that deep, soothing voice of his, and as he leaned in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was a simple gesture, but one that meant everything to you. This forehead kiss had become a cherished ritual, a sign of his affection that greeted you every time you returned from one of your little expeditions. The moment felt timeless, as if the world outside the two of you didn’t exist, leaving just the warmth of his embrace and the comforting familiarity of his presence.

As he set you down gently, his hands lingered on your waist, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. The bond between you had grown so much over time, and it was moments like these that made you realize just how deeply you had fallen for him. The affection you felt was almost overwhelming, filling every corner of your heart as you looked into his eyes, knowing that he felt the same way too.

"Hey, Sebby," you called out, using the nickname that had taken him some time to get used to. "Are you ever going to admit that you love my company as much as I love yours?"

He looked up from his work, his deep blue eyes meeting yours with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. "You're insufferable," he grumbled, but the slight curve of his lips betrayed him.

"And you wouldn’t have it any other way," you shot back with a grin.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he returned to his task. "You’ve turned my world upside down, you know that?"

"Good," you replied, moving closer to him. "Because you’ve done the same for me."

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm. The simple touch sent a shiver through you, a reminder of how much you cared for him. In the dim light of the shop, with the familiar scent of sea salt and old files around you, everything felt perfect—like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

One of the many things Sebastian adored about you was your genuine curiosity for the things he did. He appreciated how you made an effort to understand his hobbies, so you could spend more time with him without disrupting his work. One of these hobbies was the skill of repairing broken devices, like flashlights and codebreakers. Fixing them for his shop was a crucial task, and you took on the challenge with excitement, eager to earn his praise.

“Like this?” you asked, sitting at the table with his tail serving as your seat. His head hovered above yours, casting a warm glow over your workspace with his anglerfish lure and guiding you. Two of his large hands rested on your waist out of habit, while his third hand assisted you in repairing the blacklight in front of you.

“Hold it steady, bunny,” he murmured with a smile, leaning his chin gently on top of your hair.

“I almost have it—” you began, but were interrupted by a sudden cough, quickly raising your arm to cover your mouth.

Sebastian’s focus shifted immediately as he heard your cough. The sound was soft but sharp enough to cut through the peaceful atmosphere of your shared workspace. His tail tensed slightly beneath you, and his hands instinctively tightened their grip on your waist. He had grown accustomed to your energy, your excitement, and the way you threw yourself into learning his trade. But lately, there had been small signs—moments of fatigue, occasional coughing spells, a distant look in your eyes—that he couldn’t quite ignore.

He leaned down closer, his anglerfish lure casting a gentle glow over your face. “Are you okay?” His deep voice was laced with concern, even as he tried to keep his tone casual.

You nodded quickly, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit of dust in my throat, that’s all.”

You were so determined, so eager to help, and he loved that about you. It made his heart swell with pride every time you managed to fix something on your own, the look of accomplishment on your face more precious to him than any treasure in his shop.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Just be careful. You don’t want to damage the circuit.”

You smiled up at him, grateful for his patience and guidance. “I got this,” you assured him, turning your attention back to the task at hand.

Sebastian watched you work, his chin still resting gently on top of your head. He couldn’t help but marvel at how natural it felt to have you there, sitting on his tail, leaning into him for warmth and support. The way you fit into his life so seamlessly was something he hadn’t expected, but now that he had you, he couldn’t imagine things any other way. Your curiosity, your determination to learn his skills, and the way you always seemed to know just what he needed—these were the things that made him fall for you, deeper every day.

“Almost there,” you murmured, your focus back on the blacklight. You carefully soldered the last connection, and with a satisfied smile, you held it up for Sebastian to see. “I think it’s fixed!”

He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the soft light. “That’s my girl,” he praised, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “You did great.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you leaned back against him, basking in the warmth of his approval.

Two months had passed, and it had become a personal ritual for you to gather every blanket, pillow, and soft item you could find in the facility to create a giant, cozy nest to sleep in. The Hadal Blacksite was hardly known for its comfort, especially after the lockdown, so you took it upon yourself to transform the back of Sebastian’s shop into a haven of warmth and peace.

Wrapped in layers of blankets, only your head peeked out from the mound, your sea bunny antennae twitching slightly. Sebastian often glanced over at you with a mix of amusement and affection.

“You sleep a lot lately, bunny,” he chuckled, setting aside the file he had been reading. “I might start to think you love that pile of blankets more than me at this point.”

You responded with a soft hum, barely lifting your head from the sea of fabric. The words were true; you had been spending an increasing amount of time resting and lounging around. Sometimes, you sprawled out on the floor like a starfish, and Sebastian had to gently pick you up to avoid any mishaps, like an expandable accidentally stepping on your delicate form.

Despite his teasing, there was a warmth in his eyes every time he looked at you. He cherished these moments of quiet companionship, even if they were punctuated by the gentle, playful banter.

The sight of you, nestled in your cozy pile of blankets, was so inviting that sometimes Sebastian couldn’t resist closing the shop earlier than usual. He’d join you in your fortress of softness, slipping into the pile of fabric with a contented sigh. Laying beside you, he would hold you close, his tail gently wrapping around your body as he settled in. His hands would drift to your antennae, where he’d softly massage the space between them, eliciting a delighted hum from you.

The two of you would lie there, not quite sleeping but basking in the warmth of each other's presence. Occasionally, Sebastian would lightly brush a stray strand of hair from your face or press a soft kiss to your temple, the gentle touches filled with affection. Your fingers would intertwine with his, and you’d both enjoy the peaceful silence, simply resting and savoring the comfort of being close.

In those moments, time seemed to slow down. You’d share lazy smiles, exchanging barely a word and just stay in a comforting silence. Sometimes, Sebastian would rest his chin on top of your head, and you’d sigh contentedly, your body relaxing further into the embrace...

Three months into your time together, on what seemed like an average day, Sebastian was out scavenging for supplies. He moved through the abandoned corridors with practiced ease, his eyes darting around with a sharp, attentive gaze. Each room he passed was briefly examined, every locker and shelf scrutinized for forgotten treasures and useful items.

As he rifled through the remnants of the old world, his attention was suddenly caught by a flash of something pristine—an untouched pillow, perfectly intact and just waiting to be added to your growing collection. For a split second, the sight of it seemed almost like a beacon, calling out to him with a soft glow of potential.

Sebastian had developed a little habit during these scavenger runs. He wouldn’t admit it, but his gift-giving had become a personal love language. While his primary goal was to find useful items for the shop, he also kept an eye out for anything that might make you smile. The way your eyes would light up with delight over even the simplest of things he brought back was a source of pure joy for him. It motivated him to turn part of his shop into a mini-storage of items he thought you’d like.

He carefully picked up the pillow, examining it with a satisfied nod before tucking it away in his bag. As he continued his search, he found himself thinking of you, imagining your reaction when you’d see this new addition to your cozy pile. The thought made him smile, his heart warming at the idea of bringing a bit more comfort to your world.

Returning to the shop, Sebastian's thoughts were occupied with the joy of seeing you unwrap the pillow. He could almost hear your excited gasp and see the way you’d curl up around it, adding yet another layer of softness to your makeshift haven. This small act of thoughtfulness was his way of showing you how much he cared, a tender gesture that spoke louder than words.

But then, amidst his searching, a sound shattered the fragile calm of the room. It was your voice, but not the cheerful, soothing tones he was used to. No, this was something far more harrowing. It was a desperate cry, a soul-wrenching scream that cut through the silence with a visceral, agonizing intensity. The sheer pain in your voice twisted his insides, making him feel as though his heart was being torn apart.

His ears twitched uncontrollably as he followed the sound, his steps becoming erratic and frantic. Each groan, each whimper, seemed to resonate with a chilling echo down the empty corridors. It was a haunting, relentless reminder of the suffering you were enduring. When he finally reached the source, he was met with a sight that stole the breath from his lungs. There you were, writhing in unimaginable pain, a tormented silhouette against the wall, your body contorted as if it were being torn apart from the inside.

Sebastian's vision blurred, and he felt a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow clawing at him. His mind raced back to the harsh truth he had desperately tried to suppress. He had known this day might come, had seen the ominous warnings in your medical file, but he had held onto a fragile hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t turn out this way. The file had warned him: your body was rejecting the sea bunny DNA.

The brutal irony of it all struck him with the force of a physical blow. All those scavenging trips, all the time he spent gathering trinkets and comforts for you, now seemed like a cruel, pointless exercise. The pillow he had so eagerly picked out for you, an innocent symbol of his affection, now felt like a mockery of your suffering.

As he reached out to you, the sight of your anguish was more than he could bear. It was as if his heart was being shredded with each cry of pain that escaped you. The agonizing truth was undeniable: you were slipping away from him, and no amount of love, no matter how fiercely he gave it, could alter the cruel fate that was unfolding.

Tears streamed down his face as he just stared at you, the pillow he had hoped would bring you comfort now a stark reminder of his helplessness. The realization that he was losing you, that he had to watch you suffer with nothing he could do to alleviate your pain, left him paralyzed with a sorrow so profound it seemed to stretch on endlessly.

He had been aware from the start that your time together was limited, but the crushing weight of that reality was more devastating than he had ever imagined. Seeing you in such excruciating agony, coupled with the crushing despair that his efforts to provide you comfort could not change the inevitable, left him feeling utterly and irrevocably shattered.

The thing that must have pained him the most was the cruel illusion he had woven around you. From the very beginning, you had been blissfully unaware of the full extent of your condition, shielded from the grim reality that had been kept from you. Urbanshade had long marked you as a lost cause, a waste of resources. They had kept you alive with medication, but the moment the lockdown had sealed off your lifeline, your fate had been sealed.

And it was Sebastian Solace, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, who had become the unwilling cause of your cruel reality. He had rescued you from the clutches of Urbanshade, pulling you into his life and making you live in these bittersweet conditions. He kept you at his side, sheltered you from the harsh truth, knowing full well that you were slowly, agonizingly, slipping away. He watched as your body rejected the very essence that made you unique, watched as the vibrant spirit he had fallen in love with was gradually consumed by pain.

The agony of it all was compounded by the facade he had maintained. To you, he was a beacon of love and stability, the one who had given you a new home, a new life. He had filled your days with small joys, with gifts and affection, all while knowing that each moment with you was a stolen fragment of time, a fleeting respite before the inevitable. He loved you too much to shatter the fragile world you had come to depend on, too much to burden you with the unbearable truth of your condition.

Every smile he saw on your face, every look of contentment in your eyes, was a dagger to his heart. The pain of watching you suffer, coupled with the torment of knowing he had to perpetuate the lie to keep you at peace, was a weight he carried in silence. He had given you comfort, affection, and a semblance of normalcy, all while knowing that it was a temporary reprieve from a fate that he could not alter.

The most excruciating part was the knowledge that you had been kept in the dark, living out your final days with an illusion of safety and love. He had chosen to be your protector and your companion, even as he knew that every moment he spent with you was tainted by the reality of your suffering. And in the end, the pain of watching you slowly succumb to your condition, while desperately trying to shield you from the truth, was a torment more profound than he could ever articulate.

Sebastian Solace set you free, on the one way or another.

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode eleven :: “REDBULL FANS”

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various drivers x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔musical releases resume and so does the drama.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

ylnestate

♡ liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 18,450,948 more.

ylnestate U&U no. 44 will be released tonight at midnight. ‘Grandstand Girl’ is the 44th mini album by ﹫y/n and features artists like ﹫theweeknd, ﹫justinbieber, and ﹫champagnepapi. All songs (apart from Trust Issues) were produced and written by Y/n in the past couple months as she’s currently working on her biggest record yet, so stay tuned for that 😉⭐️!

tagged: theweeknd, champagnepapi, justinbieber.

1,492,592 comments.

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→ username u&u stands for undecided and unreleased, y/n usually drops u&u eps right before an album when she has songs that don’t fit the genre/make sense with the rest of the album. they usually consist of 2-6 songs and this one is ep number 44! hope this helped 💗

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y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 11,393,159 more.

y/n SEBASTIAN VETTEL PLEASE COME BACK 💔 adopted another papaya fucker and a williams kid ft. fernando rizzlonso and sir lew 🩷

993,593 comments.

y/l/nestate more kids?

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[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 2 - Domination

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @evrensadwrn! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: LaCroix briefs Vincent on the new world he has just entered into, with the expectation that he will be an obedient ghoul. But Vincent is still struggling to gain the upper hand.

Author's Note: I made myself sad writing this - I want Sebastian to turn from Whumper to Caretaker already!

TW: mind control, emotional manipulation, strangulation, kidnapping

It was not LaCroix’s habit to keep his subordinates close to him. If it was wise to keep enemies close, then it was wiser to keep envious inferiors at such a distance that they had no opportunity to become enemies. Ghouls ought to have no knowledge of their master’s weaknesses, and no importance as anything other than pawns. They ought to view him as a solitary, impenetrable figure, above even their understanding. But Vincent Bisset de Gramont proved himself an enemy from the start, and therefore, an exception.

LaCroix repeated that name in his head and smiled, rolling it and playing with it, along with the bullet in his palm which he had decided to keep as a souvenir. Vincent had become so incensed when LaCroix refused to use his title that he determined on the spot never to use it again. The man had to be taught a lesson. “You are no Marquis any longer, let alone an ‘Autem Imperator,’ Vincent. Those titles have no meaning here. You will learn new titles. ‘Prince.’ ‘Regnant.’ ‘Domitor.’ And they will belong to me, not to you - as do all things where we’re going. Know your place.” He leaned back into the quilted suede of his seat, letting starlight and the dimmed glow of the cabin play across his features to what he hoped was a mysterious and intimidating effect.

“Your hubris knows no bounds, Prince,” Vincent spat back, clutching the arms of his seat as if his wrists were lashed to them. “They’re looking for me even now. Do you think you can walk into a High Table duel and make off with the highest ranking –“

“No one is looking for you, because no one knows you’re missing. Everyone who saw me believes they saw a kindly priest who said his respects over your body before helping that fellow – The Harbinger, I believe you call him – lay you to rest in a casket for your mortician to carry away. Tomorrow, that empty casket will be buried.”

A flash of panic before his pretty green eyes lit up again. “The mortician will – “

“The mortician wasn’t your man. He was mine. I sent a local friend to take his place, and to oversee the proceedings. You’re as good as dead, Vincent. I’m dreadfully sorry.”

He went as ghostly white as his travelling companion then. He remained very quiet while Sebastian explained to him the meanings of those important titles he’d mentioned, as well as other relevant words such as “Masquerade” and “Camarilla” and “Ventrue.”

LaCroix’s hope of entertainment during the flight was very much fulfilled. Vincent made for a captivating (if pitiful) image, with blood still smeared across his forehead and wetness sparkling in his eyes. LaCroix couldn’t stop staring at him and wondering whether he’d really cry or not. It filled him with a strange mix of sadism and sympathy that kept the Prince continuously in suspense. It sent him inexplicably trembling to hear Vincent say, “You’ll have to forgive me, Sebastian, I’m just so confused. Please…help me understand everything.”

He was coherent enough to ask intelligent questions though, and always seemed to latch onto those subjects that were a little too top-secret for a first conversation with a ghoul, whilst sighing that he was just so confused and scared. Clearly, he knew his way around a syndicate like the Camarilla and went straight for the vital information. When at last the Prince tired of this game and started to inquire about Vincent’s own organization, he refused to divulge anything.

It confused Sebastian a little. Every other ghoul he’d ever created had hung on his words in an ecstasy that totally drowned out the loss of their former life. They typically begged to repay him for saving them and fell over themselves to please him until he was either amused or disgusted. They certainly didn’t issue desperate pleas and threats about returning to their old life, or try to ply information out of him, or protect their old secrets. But Vincent? Well…there was no doubt that Vincent was affected by Sebastian. Sometimes his eyes lingered on LaCroix as if he wasn’t quite able to look away. But the look there wasn’t puppy love, it was…horror. Hatred. As if Vincent was looking at an old grudge who had wronged him grievously. Something wasn’t right.

He wasn’t in deep enough, that was all. He’d only taken the first sip of vitae – two still remained to form a full blood bond. And he was hardly a pliant individual, that much was evident. For now, Sebastian supposed he’d have to secure the ghoul’s cooperation via commands. “Vincent. When I ask you a question about the High Table, you will answer me directly, honestly, and without embellishments. Do you understand?”

A glazed, vacant look replaced the pitiful one. “I understand.”

There, good. Sebastian let out a breath, only just realizing how tense he had become, and began his inquisition.

He knew a little about the High Table already. It was not so different from the Giovanni, but even larger by membership the Camarilla, and impressive for a human construction. It was difficult to be anyone significant in either the human or kindred underworld without running across the High Table’s activities at some point. But the Autem Imperator (Sebastian might not call him by his title out loud, but he wasn’t forgetting it for an instant in his own mind) offered a unique view of its proceedings. Within minutes, LaCroix knew who held each seat, how communications passed between members, how those communications might be intercepted, into which countries their influence had spread (it was most of them), and even where the Elder resided.

It had been no idle tip, he realized, that suggested he should pay a visit to his home country and rest in the basilica that day. It had been, in fact, pure gold in the form of an anonymous email. He almost passed it up as an attempted ruse or ambush, even with all the power promised by the stranger on the other end. But it also spoke to a Masquerade violation, and even the Nosferatu could not trace it. The sender must have had a contact, someone who could encrypt on their level. So he went personally, just for 24 hours, with the resolution that he would return to the safety of LA as soon as possible.

Remembering at last to the original purpose of his visit, LaCroix asked his ghoul one final question, shortly before landing.

���Do you have an associate who would go by the initial ‘C’?”

Even under domination, he rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Sebastian held out the message on his phone. “Who could this have been?”

“Is it true that you can help someone live beyond death? If you really are I’ve been told you are, then come at once, to Paris. Come to the Sacré-Coeur Basilica just before dawn. If you’re lucky and I’m unlucky, you will find a man there who cannot escape death any other way. If you keep him alive, he will offer you knowledge and power equal to your own, pertaining to a human organization you may know as the High Table. Take him away from me, change him, disappear him, I don’t care. Only save his life and make him happy, and you will have my eternal thanks. He does not know, and will never know, what he means to me.”

- C”

“My bodyguard, Chidi.” His voice was strained almost to the breaking point, and his eyes still fixed on Sebastian’s phone even after the email was closed. Sebastian had no questions about whether he was faking his tearfulness this time.

“A ghoul of your very own, of sorts! Where can I find him?”

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment before mustering an answer. “…He’s dead.”

“Ah, splendid. That saves me a great deal of trouble.”

And then Vincent did what no ghoul, whether on one sip of vitae or three, should have been capable of doing. He sprung forward and closed hands around his domitor’s neck.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

It took Vincent much longer than it should have to recall that Sebastian didn’t need to breathe. By that time, he was already being dragged off by the enormous, visibly supernatural thing that Sebastian had introduced as “The Sheriff.”

“Get this brainless lump off of me!”

“Hey,” The Sheriff grunted. Vincent paid him no mind, and continued addressing LaCroix with exactly as much civility as he deserved, all the while straining against the boulder-heavy hands holding him back.

“You will not SPEAK to me that way and you will not – “ Fuck, he hated the way his voice was shaking… “You will not speak of my bodyguard’s death as – as ‘splendid!’”

“And you will not speak to me at all until you can behave yourself!” LaCroix retorted. “SILENCE!”

The voice seemed to go out of Vincent’s throat. All his resistance had been used up in the outburst and he sunk numbly back into his seat.

LaCroix was panting, a shaking hand against his neck. He adjusted his tie and recovered himself enough to laugh. “Imagine trying to strangle a vampire! And the one holding your life in his hands, no less. You’re one to talk of brainlessness. And just when I was beginning to respect your cunning.” Vincent opened his mouth and nothing came out, so he spat in LaCroix’s face instead.

“Oh for god’s sake - You don’t speak AND you don’t move!” Vincent smiled as he watched LaCroix wipe at his face with a handkerchief, scowling. But another wave of terrible compulsion spread through his limbs, and then he was paralyzed.

It was such a strange feeling, being “dominated.” It was the same magnetism that drew him to LaCroix when he first laid eyes on him (that must be the “vitae” he had spoken about), but stronger, and more concentrated. Making him capable of magnificent feats, making him motivated, drawing his focus, making things important to him. As if a power was bursting out from inside of Vincent. It wasn’t so unlike being high, and not wholly unpleasant. But it was not his to control, not a part of him. It was LaCroix’s, and he hated it for that, and he hated LaCroix for that too. Maybe, if he just held onto that hatred…

But LaCroix’s conversation with his Sheriff broke his concentration. “No, I don’t want him in a cell, much less his own apartment. He’s not fully dominated and it’s a security risk. I don’t understand it, but I need to maintain a tight hold over him even if I have to do it by manual override. He stays in the penthouse, with me.”

If The Sheriff understood that, he conveyed it only by grunting.

Damn it. Any chance to get out of LaCroix’s grasp was slipping away. Again, he struggled to protest, but it was useless. He couldn’t speak. His own body was refusing him. It felt traitorous and alien and there was no one to help him, no one looking for him, no Chidi ever again and absolutely nothing he could do. If he had a voice, he would probably be screaming, he realized. But instead, for the second time that day, he floated on a sea of bloody misery, gasping worse and worse by the second. As the jet went into final descent, its weightlessness hit him in the stomach and drove home a second wave of fear.

LaCroix was watching him, leaning over him, speaking to him, in much the same way one might speak to a broken printer shortly before kicking it. He lay a hand on Vincent’s chest to feel his shallow heartbeat and the very core of Vincent’s being rebelled against the way that it soothed him.

“Why are you not calm? You shouldn’t be feeling this way, I don’t understand why it’s not working…” He fixed LaCroix with the most hateful stare he could manage without moving his facial muscles. Why do you think, you useless fils de pute? He felt tears rolling silently down his cheeks. Fine. Good, even.

Again, LaCroix’s magnetic voice overpowered his will with a rush, even more hideously blissful than before. Perhaps it was more in harmony with him than the last had been... “Be calm, Marquis. I command you. Don’t be so afraid.”

And all the wild contents of his heart slipped away into a soft, empty, merciful void.

◃ Back ⚜ Next ▹(coming soon)

Image Sources: One | Two

[skywalker1dream]

specials

Pretending

Sebastian Vettel x reader

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Sebastian lay next to you, his breathing slow and even, his body completely still as if he had fallen asleep. The dim light of the room cast soft shadows over his features, making him look peaceful.

Almost too peaceful.

You watched him for a moment, biting your lip as you took in the sight of him. Even when he was pretending to sleep, there was something about the way he held himself that told you he was far from done. You knew Sebastian too well by now, there was no way he was truly asleep.

Slowly, you shifted under the covers, your body still tingling with the lingering effects of your last encounter. You moved closer to him, your fingers tracing light patterns along his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch.

"Seb?" you whispered softly, testing him. There was no response, just the same slow, steady breathing. But you caught the tiniest flicker of his eyelid, the smallest twitch of his lips, and you knew he was awake, just waiting to see what you would do.

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of your lips. If he wanted to play, then you’d give him a game.

You let your hand wander lower, slowly trailing down the hard planes of his abdomen, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch. Still, he didn’t move, but you could sense the anticipation building in him, his body subtly responding even as he kept up the act.

Without hesitation, you let your hand slip lower, brushing lightly against him. He twitched, just barely, his breath catching for the briefest moment before he steadied it again. You knew you had him right where you wanted him.

"Still pretending to sleep, huh?" you murmured, leaning in close so your lips brushed against his ear, your voice low and teasing.

Sebastian didn’t answer, but his body was betraying him. You could feel him hardening under your touch, his breathing slightly more ragged than before. He was holding onto his act, but barely.

With a soft laugh, you moved even lower, your hand wrapping around him fully, stroking him slowly, deliberately. His hips shifted involuntarily, just a fraction, and you felt a surge of satisfaction knowing he was so close to breaking.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his neck as you continued your slow, torturous movements, your voice a sultry whisper against his skin. "You can’t hide from me, Seb. I know what you want."

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath him, but still, he didn���t open his eyes, didn’t say a word. He was stubborn, you had to give him that. But you weren’t done yet.

Smiling wickedly, you shifted your position, sliding down his body until you were between his legs. You kissed along the inside of his thigh, taking your time, teasing him with soft, featherlight touches until you could feel the tension practically radiating off him.

And then, without warning, you took him in your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the way his body reacted instantly. His hips bucked up slightly, a quiet, strangled sound escaping his throat, but still, he didn’t open his eyes.

You hummed softly around him, your tongue teasing him in all the ways you knew drove him crazy. You could hear his breathing grow more labored, feel his body tensing beneath you, his hands fisting the sheets as he fought to keep his composure.

But you weren’t going to let him win this game.

You took him deeper, moving your head in slow, torturous motions, hollowing your cheeks as you worked him with your mouth, your hands gently caressing the base of him. His hips jerked involuntarily, a soft, breathless moan escaping his lips, and you knew he was close to breaking.

Finally, with a frustrated groan, Sebastian’s hand shot out, tangling in your hair as he pulled you off him, his eyes snapping open, dark with lust and need.

"Enough," he growled, his voice rough as he pulled you up to meet his gaze. His eyes blazed with desire as he flipped you onto your back in one swift motion, hovering over you with a predatory look in his eyes. "You’ve had your fun."

Before you could respond, he crashed his lips against yours, kissing you with a raw, desperate hunger that left you breathless. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them, the tip of him teasing your entrance but not giving you what you wanted yet.

"You like teasing me, huh?" Sebastian murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire as he pressed his body against yours, his length just barely brushing against you. "You think you can play these little games and not face the consequences?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he thrust into you hard and deep, the suddenness of it ripping a gasp from your lips. He didn’t give you time to adjust, his pace relentless from the start, his hips snapping against yours in a way that had you seeing stars.

"You’re mine," Sebastian growled, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you over and over again, his movements rough and possessive. "You think you can control me, but I’m the one who decides how this ends."

Your hands clawed at his back, your body arching beneath him as the pleasure overwhelmed you. His words, his roughness, the way he was taking you it was too much, too intense, and yet you couldn’t get enough.

"Seb-" you gasped, your voice breathless as you clung to him, your body trembling beneath the force of his thrusts. "Please…"

He groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he pounded into you harder, his body tense with the effort to hold back his own release. "Not yet," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I’m going to make you come first."

His hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot and teasing you in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure built quickly, your body tightening around him as the tension coiled tight in your core.

With one final thrust, Sebastian sent you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that had you crying out his name, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

Sebastian wasn’t far behind. With a low, guttural moan, he thrust into you one last time, spilling into you as his own release hit, his body shuddering with the force of it.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you breathless and spent, tangled together in the sheets. Finally, Sebastian collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he kissed the top of your head softly.

"Next time," he murmured, his voice still rough from the intensity of it all, "don’t think you can win so easily."

You laughed softly, snuggling closer to him as your heart slowly returned to a normal pace. "I think I won just fine," you teased, your voice a playful whisper.

Sebastian smirked, his hand running down your back in soothing strokes as he whispered against your skin, "we'll see about that."

[phebbsl]

A Part of Your World- Chapter 1

Stardew Sebastian x GN!Reader

Summary:

Sebastian’s resolve to not meet the new farmer lasts all but two weeks. To be fair, it’s not of his own volition. 

You never thought you had to resolve to not get literally sucked into your favorite game, but now here you are. And now you have a farm to manage and a pretty boy to woo. 

Or: My spin on the life in Pelican Town, and Heart Events, featuring a GN!Reader (possibly/probably Isekai???).

Cross posted from my AO3, phebbsl

♡

Sebastian’s resolve to not meet the new farmer lasts all but two weeks. To be fair, it’s not of his own volition. 

He had stumbled out of his bedroom in the afternoon, late afternoon mind you, and promptly walked in on you and his mom discussing options for a new coop.

It was the day after the Egg Festival. Abigail had lost the Egg hunt for the first time in years, and was inconsolable for the whole night yesterday. Not in the ‘holy shit I lost and I’m absolutely devastated’ way with tears, but in ‘holy shit, did you see the Farmer??? they’re so hot’ type of way. 

The trio of friends had stayed up late at Sebastian’s room for the rest of the night, drinking and using his ‘vase’. Abigail continued to gush about the Farmer, only slightly put out that her win streak ended.

“I mean, did you see them in that little straw hat? How cute!” she cooed. 

Sam joined in too, all red-faced, blushing. The Farmer had stopped by his house when they first moved in, introducing themselves sweetly, and had even tossed over a can of Joja Cola to the blonde. Sam had suspected that it had been fished up from the river, judging by scuffs and slightly musty river-y smell, but had downed it anyway (and kept the can). 

Why Sam drinks treasures those little blue cans of diabetes and Yoba-knows-what when he literally works at Joja and knows damn well how unhealthy it is, Sebastian will never know. 

Sebastian spent the rest of the night, totally not sulking on his bed, casting mournful glances at the game table, all set up for a round of Solarian, as he listened to his friends’ gossip about the newest member of the town. 

Abigail and Sam didn’t leave until well past midnight, and while Sebastian was used to long nights hunched over his computer, the day’s festivities had worn him out completely.

Thus, leading to him crawling out of his mom’s basement like a cave-goblin, obvious to all that he had woken up past the accepted hours for any normal person, even later than he typically would’ve. Upon seeing you, he was completely determined to turn around, go back to bed, and hide enjoy his solitude until you were gone. That was, before his mother had stepped in, ever so glad to take any opportunities to socialize him.  

“Have you met my son, Sebastian?” Robin prods, with a sly grin, before slinking away to leave the two of you to socialize. 

Great, now he had to interact with you.

He mumbles out a greeting and his name and takes you in. 

You don’t look like a farmer. At least, not the stereotypical version of he had come up in his head. To be fair, he only really envisioned a grizzled old man, smudged with dirt and hands full of calluses. Basically, your grandfather. He had only caught a brief glance at the festival yesterday, and was uninterested in looking further. Now, he realized that his friends were right. 

‘Oh no, they’re hot!’ echoes in his brain, soundly strangely like Squidward. 

You’re exactly his type, with pretty eyes he could just drown in to boot, your straw hat prize from yesterday perched on your head. You’d even wound a crown of flowers around the base. He’s not a big fan of flowers, but daffodils suddenly look a million times better. Yellow looks good on you, he thinks. 

He urges his brain to reboot and act like a normal person. Suddenly, he wants to make a good impression on you, curse his traitorous hormones. 

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool. Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

Nice. Cool, slightly aloof, and hopefully he didn’t sound too much like a dick. 

You shrug and spin off the truly humongous backpack you have strapped on. 

‘Damn, Pierre found someone to sell that thing to, huh?’ he thinks absently. 

He and Abigail had spent an embarrassingly long time giggling at the giant monstrosity when it had arrived at Pierre's, while the store owner wilted behind the register, his plans to sell backpacks to one-up Joja foiled. 

Sebastian watches with confusion as you proceed to stick your arm in the pack, rummaging, before producing a frozen tear, then dropping it into his hands. He stares at it, flabbergasted. 

“I really love this. How did you know?” He finally manages to say. 

“Just had a feeling,” you shrug again. 

Robin comes back, interrupting the moment. 

“I found the paint swatches for the coop! Let me know which one you’d like.”

You break away to discuss color options, and Sebastain stays, silently rolling the frozen tear in between his fingers. More words of gratitude are stuck in his throat.

Eventually, you and Robin finish, the latter rolling up the blueprints with promises to start working the next day. 

“It was nice to meet you,” you give a little wave with a wiggle of your fingers. 

“Uh yeah, same here.” 

‘Wow, real eloquent,’ Sebastian snarks internally. 

He finally leaves for the kitchen to grab food to start his day. 

“Are you going to Sam’s? You should change before you go,” Robin enters as well, snickering. 

Sebastian looks down.

Fuck, he had just met the most attractive person he’d ever seen and he was in his damn froggie printed pajama pants.

‘I knew I should’ve just stayed in my room,’ he thinks. But, glancing at the frozen tear next to his cup of coffee, he knows he might just wake up early again the next time you visit.

♡

I’m playing with the idea of having the farmer be from our world, like an isekai, I think it opens up more possibilities and has potential to become a bigger story than just a series of one shots, but I’m still not sure yet. 

Let me know what you guys think!

[rosesrflo]

Hi! Sorry for bothering you, I'm new to your account and I don't know if your requests are open. But if they are, can I request Sebastian, William, Sherlock and Louis seeing y/n in lingerie and how would they react? Thank you so much! Have a nice day and take care!!

. ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

　ﾟ。 L　｡ﾟ

　　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 O　｡ﾟ

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

　｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

　ﾟ。 V　｡ﾟ

　　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 E　｡ﾟ

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

/\__/\

(=•ㅅ•=)

(つ♡⊂)∫

U--U

Feats; Sebastian, William, Sherlock, Louis (MTP). Genre; NSFW

Prompt; ❛❛Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.❞ Warnings; a bit handsy but not smut, painfully long, fem!reader/AFAB

Desc; IN WHICH you showcase some interesting outfits for your partner, if only you knew what you do to them. Don’t worry, they’ll let you know with some intimate explanations.

A/N; Of course, lovely! I enjoyed writing this but a few scenarios are rlly long, and I apologise if some characters are a bit ooc (sorry if it’s too/too less smutty), have a good day/night and enjoy! <3

SEBASTIAN;

This man is thirsty asf

What can he say? Force of habit.

What can he say? Force of habit.

If this is what he’s like on a normal basis, you can imagine what he’s like when things get hot, he cannot believe that you think you can wear an alluring lingerie without him at least touching you.

But he must say, black looks good on you.

So much that Sebastian pounces the moment he lays eyes on your figure, his hands hooked underneath your exposed thighs, lifting you against the nearest wall with a smirk etched upon his face as he presses surprisingly soft kisses against your neck.

You’ve dug a hole for yourself, you’re definitely not getting out of this one and the next few hours will be rough.

A muffled squeal fell from your captured lips, Moran’s hands travelled over your body, the fat of your thighs spilled from his tight grip that held you upright, “Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” His eyes hungrily scanned your expression.

“And all for me..” The skimpy fabric hugged your physique in a way that he didn’t dare look away, you looked down at him through lidded lashes, if you knew this was how he’d react, you would have worn lingerie earlier.

Sebastian lowered you onto the floor although his hands didn’t leave you once and continued his onslaught of hickeys to your bared neck. A heated blush crawled onto your cheeks at the sensation, “Not here-! Someone might see us.”

Your request was blatantly tossed aside as he only pressed on, hands trailing from your thighs to more sensitive parts, “Big talk for someone walking around in that.” He pulled away proudly to observe the darkening marks on your neck; ever shameless, Moran doesn’t give a damn whether anyone catches sight.

Not when you’re all dolled up just for him, in fact, he dares them to look at you.

WILLIAM;

How can he resist you?

Revealing, red silk cupped your features perfectly, it was clear as day that you had no idea what filthy thoughts were racing through William’s head at the moment.

Even though his face doesn’t break its charming facade, his heart beats a little faster than usual, and is that a tint of red on his ears?

Your little showcase was slowly yet effectively testing his patience.

Liam isn’t usually a sexually frustrated person, well that was until you dragged him into your shared bed chambers to rate a few rather seductive outfits.

His crimson irises rake up and down you, admiring how irresistible you appeared, every model pose sent his mind into a blurred frenzy - the feeling of your hands balancing on his shoulders as you leaned in to ask him for his thoughts.

Your body barely grazed his and if you lent in just a little further you’d be touching him, just a little closer and he would..-

The ornamented cup of tea clinked throughout the quiet room as Liam lifted it from its porcelain plate to his parted lips. But of course this all served as a minor distraction, the main focus was you, his gaze was half hazed as the straps slid over your bare body.

He wished to rip it off of you in the very moment.

After an anticipated pause, you shyly stepped forwards, hands cusped behind your back, “What about this one..? I like the coverage but it isn’t red..” Mindless mutters cut him off before he could reply.

“You look ravishing, either way.” You blinked at his double meaning compliment, a sweet smile formed on your lips in thanks. William on the other hand was undressing you imaginatively, you were so pure.

Turning away from him, you loosened the straps holding your outfit together, hues of blush heated your cheeks as you tried to undo the bra straps but ultimately failed, “Ah-Liam could you help me with..-“ Gesturing to your situation.

Liam’s beverage had long since gone cold, placing it onto the plate, he watched you nervously saunter towards him. Your hands clasped onto his shoulders for balance whilst he skillfully unclasped your bra straps, he had done this too many times to count. He swallowed audibly.

The lingerie was only just covering you, unconsciously, he held the small of your back and lightly urged you onto his lap; you gasped as he slid the clothing off of your shoulders, his eyes wandered to your exposed assets.

“May I kiss you, darling?” William’s tone was laced with lust as you steadied yourself.

What came after was certainly more than just a kiss.

SHERLOCK;

It was a stuffy night.

and It wasn’t exactly your intention to dress up for Sherlock, it was just so unbearably warm that you simply couldn’t wear anything else.

Unbeknownst to you, the minute he sees you in such revealing clothing, you’ll be even more hot and stuffed; except this time with his cock.

It was late into the night when Sherly received a bit of a gift as he finally retired to his room. You were a sight to behold say the least - all curled up in his bedroom, dark blue fabric danced hazardously across your body.

Unlike the others, Sherlock doesn’t immediately jump to sexual conclusions, no, he admired you. How lucky was he for catching a divine being like you?

He watched your sleeping figure for a few minutes, his eyes glinted with nothing short of admiration, you were absolutely heavenly, especially in that.

Admirations soon faded into lust.

A huff escaped Sherlock as he quickened his pace towards 221B, the sky was midnight blue and the finished cigarette in his hand didn’t ease any thoughts about you. His breathe hitched upon pacing inside the silent flat, everyone was asleep.

Wasting no more time idly standing around, Sherlock started his way to your shared room; the room air was humid, the largest window was far open and you were snoozing as peaceful as ever.

However, his eyes seemed to linger on your sleeping form, but it wasn’t a surprise - your body seemed almost nude if not for the lingerie, bed covers were strewn everywhere except you and the pale moonlight shon down onto your (s/c) skin.

You tossed in your sleep, sensing another person in the room. Sherly knelt by the bed before gently cupping your face, “Now what do we have here, (n/n)?” The familiar scent of cigars and faint cologne, accompanied with his cockney accent woke you from your slumber.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you blinked at Sherlock’s smirking face, “You’re back, Sherly.” He drew a figurative line with his index finger from your neck, between your breasts, “I’m back.”

“What are you wearing at this hour?” You averted your eyes at the query, “Not that I mind.” He lent in to press a kiss to your neck, despite his vague actions - it was quite obvious to you what would occur next.

“Please be gentle, Sherly, ‘m tired.”

LOUIS (SMUT WARNING);

Contrasting this man’s modest appearance, he’s probably the most sexually active excluding Moran.

Not on his own account but because he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

Have you seen yourself? He tries not to think about your body but it affirmatively fails every time you show him one of your revealing outfits.

It makes his mind go brrr, the way it cups your breasts, your thigh high socks don’t help your alibi either, by the time he’s finished with you - you’ll be a mewling mess, bite marks littering your inner thighs.

Yes he’s a biter.

But don’t worry, Louis is an absolute gentleman and awfully good at it, he’ll have you screaming in no time flat.

All that can be said is, good luck.

“I advise you to be quiet, my lady.”

A silent gasp escaped your plush lips as your head fell into the fluffy pillows, Louis’ hands pinned your legs in the air to ensure you didn’t move whilst he worked on your pretty cunt.

Lace, blue garments were pushed aside your left lip, he wanted to devour you in such an outfit that captured your complete charm. Mewls vibrated in your throat, his tongue flickered kitten laps against sensitive nerve bundles.

Despite the situation at hand, a polite smile eased his features once his teeth catch your little bud and you looked just about to pass out, all fucked out. Using one hand to spread your sopping pussy, he pressed two digits into your entrance and he almost came on the spot from how tight you were clenching.

Pushing them in a few more times, you cried out his name as your back near arches off of the bed, “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” Louis leaned in to taste more of your essence, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his lips suckle your swollen clit.

Your legs kick upwards the closer you came to the edge of release, and it wasn’t until then does he realise how hard you were cumming, “Looking so lovely…dressed up in such obscene attire..”

He pulls away breathlessly after you slowly came down from the mind blowing high, your eyes squeezed shut and body trembling. Louis gazed down at the art piece he dubbed you, lightly pecking your forehead, how sinfully gorgeous..

“As you were, my lady.”

[killuagirly]

Request:

From lecheycanela!!

Hello! I have read the rules so I hope I did well. If possible I'd like to order a little minific of Snake from Black Butler where the reader (preferably female if that's okay) joins as a new maid at the Phantomhive mansion shortly after he himself joins. Perhaps the reader is very pretty and kind to everyone in the mansion, as well as being very responsible and not as absent-minded as the other servants with their work, so Sebastian is internally grateful for this. The reader is extremely sweet with Snake and his snakes without being afraid of his friends or his scales and they both begin to have feelings for each other as time goes by. Something soft and fluffy for this story <3 since there aren't that many stories for him :( By the way, I'm sorry if this went on a bit and I'm also sorry for my English, it's not my first language.

𐙚 Snake x F!Reader

Summary: You arrive as a new addition to the Phantomhive staff shortly after Snake, bringing your productive habits and sweetness with you. Everyone at the manor is grateful for your presence, especially a certain scaley boy falling harder for you by the day.

Notes: If I'm being honest, Snake is kinda hard for me to write for since I don't fully comprehend his personality, but he's such a cutie I can't even. On a side note, your request followed the guidelines and your English was perfect as far as I can tell, but please send requests through the ask feature in the future! Thank you!! [Also it was adorable how it sounded like you were ordering a fic from a drive-thru!!]

CW: Nothin', just some fluff.

────────── ʚ♡ɞ ──────────

Snake

Another new servant on staff right after one had just arrived? They all seemed to be excited for you to work with them upon meeting you, your whole aura gentle and sweet with a smile on your face. After being introduced to the Young Master, Baldroy, Mey-Rin, Finnian, Tanaka and Snake individually, you decided that you were going to like it here with them.

Over the next couple of days you were shown where to find everything, and your daily tasks included with your job. If you had any further questions, Sebastian instructed you to ask another servant for help and only seek him out if necessary. To his pleasant surprise, you were much more reliable with daily tasks than the others seemed to be, which Sebastian was extremely grateful for.

Gradually the others began to get used to having you around, and a certain yellow-eyed boy in particular couldn't take his eyes off of you while you were working. Every time the two of you spoke, you showed no fear towards him or his serpent friends. In fact, you often got closer than most dared, asking Emily or another if you could stroke them on their back.

To which your request the always complied, even encouraging Snake to get closer with you due to them taking a liking of having you around. As time passed he found himself gazing in your direction, wondering whether or not you saw him in the same light he saw you. Once he realized his thoughts a blush climbed it's way to his cheeks and he whipped his head in the other direction hoping you wouldn't notice his staring.

On the occasion you did catch him staring, he once again turned away only to be met with a giggle from you. He loved the way you walked over and pet his hair, smiling at him with that gorgeous look in your eyes like he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. He loved how you perfectly worded your sentences when praising his hard work after a long day and God did he love the night when you asked him to meet you out in the garden under the stars.

His eyes widened like saucers when you let all your feelings for him roll off your tongue, telling him he was the most beautiful boy you'd ever met and how you wanted to be with him. You also let him know that there was no pressure on whether or not he made his decision then or later, and you wouldn't be upset if he didn't return your feelings. Knowing his timid personality, it may stop him from using proper judgement when it comes to a matter that serious.

In the heat of the moment, Snake did the boldest thing he could've in a long time and kissed you. It was messy, but you melted into it like he was made for you. No words needed exchanging once you both pulled apart, rather just pulling one another closer into a comfortable embrace. He it had been exactly what he wanted, and you wanted it too. A quiet, "I love you, [Name]," fell from his lips without hesitation. You gave the only response he had been dying to hear for so long, "I love you too, Snake."

────────── ʚ♡ɞ ──────────

Masterlist

[sashiavi]

Just wanted to say whenever I'm reading your hybrid bachelors posts I can't help but read with a completely normal human reader in mind and it's kinda funny bcs I imagine that only Stardew Valley has hybrid people so the reader didn't know about the existence of hybrids before moving there and is just this big supernatural revelation to her that she just has to deal with now.

Not only that but she also somehow started dating one of the hybrids (idk who would be more surprised here, she that is dating an hybrid person or the bachelor who somehow got a human for a mate) and doesn't know shit about them so when her lover is talking about common stuff about hybrids like it's basic knowledge she is just like "yes honey I totally knew that and didn't just learn about it right now😎"

And OMG when she first hears about ruts and is just like "what...😃" mildly stunned, possibly turned on, perhaps intrigued. Girly is going through emotions and is definetly enjoying them. Her being curious and getting used to the hybrid bits of their body, ears, tails, etc. Getting used to their stamina and libido too bcs omg..

The uncertainty if she can have his kids or not, and if yes would they be hybrids or fully humans? Would there be any complications? Can you imagine how much more protective they would get over their human lover😮‍💨

Also exploring a bit the angst, imagine her being insecure/anxious about not being a good mate since she is a human and doesn't know what the fuck she is doing, so she goes to the bachelorettes for advice on how to be a good mate and tries to act on their advice. And when he notices it he just reassures her that she doesn't need to pretend like that with him bcs he chose her as a human<3

Sorry for rambling too much I just couldn't help it😣

Ahh! Never apologize for rambling! I thoroughly enjoyed reading your thoughts ♡♡

Gosh I got carried away- maybe I ought to write up some headcannons sometime... tysm for talking to me :3

Yes to all of this oh my goodness.. Truthfully I haven't properly sat down and thought of the SDV Hybrid world~ I totally agree with all of this!

I usually write with either a Human or some ambiguous Hybrid reader in mind (as open ended as I can be haha)

I can imagine in the big city like Zuzu there's a bit of a mix and mingle of Hybrids and Humans alike, maybe even Humans outweighing the population by a lot but Hybrids do definitely exist somewhere within the world. I also feel like there could be some semi-recent political issues about Hybrids and their place in society... and maybe a lack of education surrounding them - Heat/Rut cycles and such.

Pelican Town is a very Hybrid-Dense area in the Valley, I can imagine the townsfolk being a little weary initially with the new Human Farmer move-in.

I can imagine some shocks~

Cat!Sebastian has quite a rough tongue..

Puppy!Sam shows his emotions through his ears and tail.

Goat!Harvey has a nervous warbling "bahh" and sometimes gets the urge to headbutt things.

Or the fact that many seem to have a very keen sense of smell is something you have to get used to.

One thing for sure is they're all fiercely protective and doting if you're with child. I think there would be a 50/50 chance of inheriting Hybrid!Features.

I usually imagine them to have human bodies with added ears, tails, horns etc and maybe a change with their cocks hehe.. especially if they're a Wolf or Puppy- Knot! Knot! Knot!

Regardless- Doting, nesting, protecting, guarding- gosh all of it!

Even if it may be a little unconventional to you.. Cat!Seb or Bear!Shane licking you as a form of comfort- maybe a little weird at first but maybe you grow to like it.

Puppy!Sam or Bunny!Elliott making a comfy nest of blankets and pillows for you to snuggle up in- nice, safe, quiet and cozy for you.

Goat!Harvey and Bull!Alex always on top of feeding you, keeping you happy and nourished. Maybe even gently, playfully nudging a little headbutt into your belly while your baby kicks you.

Head full... rotted...

[neveraftcr-a]

was she going to miss this? a little, yes. maybe a lot but she couldn't let herself lose sight of the end goal. win back her ex. this was only an act, one friend helping out another friend, even if she did admittedly like the feeling of his arms around her a little too much. convinced herself that a little confusion like that was normal, to be expected and it would all go away once it was over. " do you want to dance with me then? " she asked, her hands rubbing gently down his arms. " we don't want to drop the whole act just yet, anyway. " // @carp3diems

sebastian kept his arms around maia, keeping her close to his body. he had really only come out to this party for her, not knowing that many people here. the blonde was typically a more social person, but the dread of this being a thing for one more night just didn't sit well in his chest. a burning of jealousy erupting through him at the thought of maia potentially going back to her ex. who didn't even deserve her in the first place. at some point during this whole thing . . . the lines blurred between act and real feelings slipping through. "yeah . . . one more night. gotta go out with a bang and all that shit, right?"

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

[ko-fi here]

ask taiga

ask romeo

ask tohma

attempt at a pinned post??

hi i'm rexii. welcome to my used car dealership. we got:

-memes (primarily twst and tokyo debunker)

-writing (i am slowly crossposting from ao3 to here but the majority of my work is over there)

-now with requests accepted!! please god give me something to write it's the only way to keep my brain in the right zip code

twst fics on tumblr (xposted on ao3)

Oneshots

Desert Rain - post-overblot jamil and azul (friendship) for @basuralindo

Closet Prison - malleus/reader - you get trapped in Malleus’s closet

An Acquired Taste - twstxblack butler - sebastian and lilia reminisce about the past

Laundry Day - tweels learn how to use a washing machine, kind of

Miniseries

Envenomate - mafia!azul/reader with octopus facts and casual homicide. for @boundlessentity

Rhapsody in Teal - jade/reader featuring awkward school dance and memory loss. it's funny tho

Collections

✨️mental unwellness✨️

🐉🎂 Bittersweet - malleus/reader platonic friendship as therapy

🐉🗡 How Not to Fall - malleus/reader platonic friendship as therapy with extra trauma and content warnings

🦇🍫 chocolate - lilia-friendship as therapy but with more of a dad spin to it

Tokyo Debunker

Oneshots

Claws - taiga/romeo - taiga wants headpats. imminently. (suggestive, not explicit)

Maestro - romeo and yuri: besties through violence and the scientific method.

Requests!! I'll gladly write you some twst and/or tokyo debunker. i have far less experience with/knowledge of black butler but I'll give it my best shot.

twst:

-favorites are JADE, azul, floyd, vil, trey, lilia, cater, malleus, jamil, riddle, leona, silver

-least favorites are rook, sebek, sebek, and sebek

-i most enjoy/am best at student x reader or shipping jade like fedex with azul, vil, or trey

-or vampire vil/damn near anyone

-jamil/fish mafia

-malleus/reader

-anything that lets me send sebek falling down a flight of stairs (I don't like that guy)

tokyo debunker

-favorites are taiga, romeo, rui, tohma, leo, jin, and ed

-least favorites are kaito and ritsu

-idk since this hasn't been out v long, send me your thoughts and we can talk

in general:

-i do a lot of AUs and messing with ages/characterizations/circumstances

-i will gladly write anything addressing mental health issues to include self harm, suicide, psychosis, etc. this is some shit i deal with too.

-love me some toxic romance

-planning to keep most of the [redacted] content on ao3 so if you want anything that I decide is too graphic I'll put it there but I can also message it to you privately.

stuff i personally don't like to write

-staff/reader

-shroudcest

-stuff with them in maid dresses

-if your request includes something not listed here (that I've forgotten) I'll let you know ♡

[pretzel-box]

Hallo ●♡●

I got a funny request

So basically Sebastian meets a reader/player with a korblox/headless/troll avatar/ wings or horns/cosplayers (maybe one as Seb)

Ect... (You can describe you own avatar too)

Silly prompt cause what if Sebastian could see we (our avatar) clearly don't look human and why we haven't been captured/experimented on

Aka this whole request is just Seb being confused as fuck-

Tags: Comedy, random apperance for reader, gender neutral reader, headless

Words: 1,4k

Authors Note: As someone with real headless, I can confirm that headless doesn't work ingame.

Sebastian watched in horrified fascination as you emerged from the vent. Your movements were nonchalant, as if clambering through air ducts was as routine as taking a stroll. You dusted off your uniform, a completely unnecessary gesture since the dust was clearly imaginary, and adjusted the peculiar floating accessory hovering over what should have been your shoulders.

It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. His three eyes widened, pupils dilating as they locked onto you. Where your head should have been, there was… nothing. Just a void, an empty space that seemed to defy logic. He could see right through you, catching glimpses of the rusted pipes and wires lining the walls behind.

“What the hell—” Sebastian stuttered, his voice filled with shock and more than a hint of repulsion. His fingers twitched at his sides, and he had to resist the instinctive urge to reach for a weapon—though he knew that, logically, weapons wouldn’t do much good in a situation like this. He continued to stare, his confusion only growing with each passing second.

You turned toward him—or at least, your body did, since there was no face to show any expression. “What?” you asked, your voice eerily calm, completely unaffected by the lack of a mouth. “Is there something on my uniform?”

Sebastian blinked rapidly, as if trying to reset his brain to make sense of this absurd reality. “That's… strangely…” he stammered, searching for the right words. “...Disgusting.”

“Rude,” you shot back, hands going to your hips. His gaze dropped, and he couldn’t help but notice the bright yellow rubber duck bag hanging there, comically out of place in this bleak, industrial environment. As if that weren’t enough, a floating picture of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson hovered just above your shoulders, rotating slowly as if it were on display. It was surreal. Completely, utterly surreal.

Sebastian’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got… a rubber duck bag… and a floating headshot of The Rock,” he managed, pointing weakly at the bizarre ensemble. “And no face. How are you even speaking? How do you see? And why in the world do you have a picture of Dwayne Johnson just… floating there?!”

You tilted your non-existent head, a gesture that would’ve looked quizzical if you had any features to display it. “I see just fine,” you replied with a casual shrug. “As for speaking, that’s just a matter of speaking. And The Rock?” You gestured vaguely toward the picture, which continued its slow, mesmerizing spin. “He’s my emotional support human.”

Sebastian let out a half-snort, half-laugh, though his expression remained one of disbelief. “Why am I freaked out?” he repeated, still staring at the empty space where your head should be. “You look like something out of a fever dream! How have you not been captured or experimented on down here?”

You let out a chuckle—an eerie sound given the circumstances. “Oh, I get that a lot. But I think I blend in just fine with the rest of the… what do you call them? Entities?” You glanced around the room, as if to emphasize your point. “Besides, no one wants to mess with someone who looks like they stepped out of a nightmare.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but grin, despite himself. “Yeah, you’ve got that part nailed,” he muttered, still shaking his head in disbelief. “You probably scare off half the things down here just by existing.”

You did a mock bow, your non-existent head dipping forward with exaggerated grace. “Thank you, thank you. I aim to unsettle.”

Sebastian chuckled, the sound coming out lighter this time, more genuine. “You’re definitely good at that,” he admitted, relaxing slightly. “But seriously, next time, give a guy a heads-up before you pop out of a vent looking like… well, whatever this is.”

“I’ll consider it,” you replied with a teasing tone, the rubber duck on your bag giving a little bounce as you shifted your weight. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The tension in the room seemed to dissolve, replaced by an odd sense of camaraderie. Sebastian shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he tried to make sense of the strange being standing before him.

“Only in this place,” he muttered, “could I end up with a faceless, rubber duck-toting, Rock-fanatic as a companion.”

And somehow, despite the absurdity of it all, that was exactly what made it feel… right.

Sebastian was still trying to wrap his head around the sight of you when the sound of frantic scrambling echoed from the vent behind him. He turned just in time to see another figure tumble through the duct opening—a short, pudgy man with wild hair and a permanent look of bewilderment on his face. Berry. One of Sebastian’s more frequent, and certainly clumsier, customers.

Berry landed awkwardly on his feet, nearly toppling over before catching himself against a nearby shelf. His eyes were wide, darting around nervously as if he’d been followed. “Sebastian! AHHHHH—” he began, his voice high-pitched and breathless, but then his gaze shifted to you.

The moment he saw your faceless form with the floating Rock photo and rubber duck bag, Berry’s jaw dropped, his face going pale. He froze, staring at you with a mixture of terror and confusion. “AHHHHHHhhh?!” he squeaked, pointing a shaky finger in your direction.

You raised a hand in a casual wave, the kind that might say “hello” if you had a face to go with it. “Hi,” you said cheerfully, as if your appearance wasn’t the least bit disturbing. “Nice to meet you!”

Berry’s eyes bulged even wider. “Ahhhhhhhh?!” he stammered, taking a stumbling step backward. In his panic, his foot caught on a loose piece of metal on the floor. He tried to catch his balance, but instead, he lurched into a nearby shelf.

The impact was enough to send the precariously stacked items on the shelf cascading down. Jars of strange glowing liquids, bits of rusted machinery, and a few well-loved trinkets that Sebastian had collected over the years came crashing to the ground with a series of loud clatters and splashes.

“Berry, watch it!” Sebastian shouted, rushing forward to try to steady the shelf, but it was too late. One of the jars rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor, sending a bright green substance oozing across the metal surface.

Berry’s eyes darted between you and the mess he’d just created, his panic only increasing. “Ahhhhaheee!” he babbled, his voice shrill with fear. “AHhhhhheeee!”

Before Sebastian could say another word, Berry spun around and bolted for the vent he’d come through. He scrambled up, his limbs flailing as he tried to pull himself back inside. “AHHHH!” he yelled over his shoulder, his voice echoing from within the duct. “AHHHHHHH.”

And with that, he disappeared back into the darkness of the vent, his panicked scrambling fading into the distance.

Sebastian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he looked at the chaos left behind. “Great. Another mess,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Berry’s going to scare himself to death one of these days.”

You watched the whole scene unfold with a sort of bemused curiosity. “Is he always like that?” you asked, turning your headless gaze back toward Sebastian.

Sebastian chuckled softly, bending down to pick up one of the trinkets that had survived the fall. “Pretty much,” he said, setting the item back onto the now-empty shelf. “He’s harmless, though. Just a bit… high-strung.”

You nodded—or at least made a nodding motion. “Can’t blame him, I suppose. I do have that effect on people.”

Sebastian glanced over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, well, you’re definitely unique,” he said. “But hey, you scared him off without even trying. Maybe you should hang around more often. Could help keep the riffraff out.”

You gave a mock bow again, this time with an exaggerated flourish. “Always happy to help,” you replied with a hint of playful sarcasm. “Though next time, I’ll try not to make someone pee their pants.”

Sebastian laughed, a genuine sound that echoed warmly through the cluttered shop. “Yeah, let’s keep the cleanup to a minimum,” he agreed, still smiling. “But, hey, thanks. For… whatever this is. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good laugh.”

“Anytime,” you said, your tone light and cheerful. “And if you ever need an unsettling presence to keep things lively, you know where to find me.”

Sebastian nodded, his grin widening. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied. And for a moment, in this bizarre, twisted world they both inhabited, everything felt oddly… normal.

Well, as normal as things could get when you had a faceless companion with a rubber duck bag and a floating photo of The Rock hovering by your side.

[simonsomeriley]

day three - wrongfully accused - sebastian sallow ♡

word count: 578 warnings: reader is female, referred to as 'she'

The shadows of the castle loomed taller than usual, casting a chill over the courtyard. You could feel the weight of every gaze on you as you stood, frozen in place, a sea of whispers swirling around you like a storm, ready to swallow you whole.

"How could you?” a voice pierced through the murmurs. Professor Sharp’s eyes bore into you, disbelief and disappointment darkening his features. “Dark magic… here at Hogwarts? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Your throat tightened, a wave of dread crashing over you, “I didn’t—” You could barely force the words out. How had this even happened? You’d never touched dark magic in your life.

But the truth didn’t matter. The evidence— someone’s word, a spell gone wrong, something you couldn’t even explain— pointed straight to you. And now, everyone believed it.

“Enough,” another voice broke through the chaos— Sebastian. His expression was a mixture of anger and protectiveness, and he pushed through the crowd, standing in front of you like a shield. “You’re blaming the wrong person. She didn’t do anything!”

The crowd buzzed louder. Sebastian Sallow, defending someone accused of dark magic? It would only make things worse. “Of course you’d say that,” a Gryffindor sneered, folding their arms. “You’re just as guilty. Everyone here knows what you’ve been involved in, Sallow.”

Sebastian’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, but he didn’t flinch. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the familiar storm of frustration in his eyes, the battle he was constantly fighting with his own past. “This isn’t about me. She’s innocent.”

But no one wanted to listen. The weight of your own helplessness pressed down on you like an iron chain. You wanted to scream, to run, to disappear from the suffocating accusations. But all you could do was stand there, helpless, watching everything crumble around you. “Sebastian… it’s no use.” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His head snapped towards you, brown eyes burning with a determination that both scared and comforted you. “I won’t let them pin this on you. I know you didn’t do it.” The doubt and pain you felt twisted inside you. How could he be so sure, when you weren’t even sure of anything anymore? Your voice cracked, “Why are you defending me? It'll only make it worsen… they all think that I did it.”

“Because I know what it’s like to be wrongfully accused.” His words were sharp, but there was a softness beneath them, an understanding that pierced through the haze of fear. “I’ve been in your shoes. And I refuse to let them do to you what they did to me.”

For a moment, the noise of the crowd seemed to fade, leaving just you and Sebastian standing in the courtyard. He took a step closer, his voice low enough so that only you could hear. “I trust you. And I’ll prove to everyone else that they should too.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion. But before you could respond, Professor Sharp’s voice cut through once again, “Sallow, this isn’t about you. These are serious accusations, and we'll need to investigate this further.”

Sebastian’s gaze never wavered, but you could see the tension in his frame, the battle between keeping calm and wanting to fight tooth and nail for you. He turned to face Sharp, his voice firm. “Then you'll investigate properly. Don’t you dare accuse her without evidence.”

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 5 - French Nights

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @kavalyera! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: Vincent has started cooperating as a ghoul, performing tasks for Sebastian at night and sleeping by day. But neither he nor Sebastian can rest peacefully.

TW: nightmares, mind control, war PTSD

The California days were only the French nights. Vincent’s body recognized them instantly as the time for sleeping, for what would have been an early bedtime in Versailles. A depression bedtime, maybe, but so much the better. After all, he had just lost everything.

He came home at each sunrise so exhausted and haggard by LaCroix’s tasks. He went from end to end of the city, delivering inscrutable messages that he himself didn’t fully understand, stumbling through social interactions in an underworld whose alliances he had yet to master, being poked at and at times outright attacked by anyone who might wish to test what LaCroix’s latest plaything could do. What hurt the most was that he wanted so badly to do LaCroix’s work effectively and he didn’t even know why. His long-term plans (to gain vampiric power and undo LaCroix completely, of course), had little to do with these daily tasks. Yet he came home miserable over every inconvenience and misstep.

The sight of LaCroix overwhelmed him. His night built towards it in anticipation, and not because of the many gifts LaCroix tried to use to buy his affection. No, it was something about the look on the man’s face, an eagerness. As if it weren’t enough to wear full lips and strong nose and glimmering eyes (all of which he loved to picture bruised and bloody and humbled), those features arranged themselves in such a gloriously domineering way. All his attention fixed on Vincent with a desperate possessiveness, an expectation of performance, and such a pride whenever he did well. Vincent wanted more of that. But the encounter itself always proved too much for him, too nerve wracking. He would snap at LaCroix until LaCroix snapped right back, and run to his room wanting nothing more than to be unconscious.

And so, vampiric sleeping hours suited Vincent immediately, as did his new sleeping quarters in the guest bedroom down the hall from his regnant.

That very first night, LaCroix informed him that it was a great honor to be given this bedroom, that it was not ordinarily meant for ghouls, only for the few diplomats significant enough to be offered a day’s stay so close to his own resting place. Here was the respect Vincent had been promised. “Come to me if you need something,” LaCroix said, “Though I’ll appreciate it if you try Sheriff first. His is the last door, on left. You will note that one must pass by his room before reaching the elevator. So if you try to run away – “

Vincent rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Yes. Well.” They nodded at each other awkwardly until Vincent had the good sense to close the door on LaCroix (finding, to his disappointment, that it did not lock), and began exploring his new cage.

A fine layer of dust told him that it was rarely used. The gilded writing desk in the corner had perhaps never been opened at all, and contained nothing. Neither did the dresser - LaCroix had no nightclothes large enough for him, but he’d promised to buy him something tomorrow. Everything was a mere shell in the style of a hotel room – made to look like a home but to usher the guest onward before it could become truly lived-in. Vincent would bet money that the Prince didn’t like having guests.

With nothing to see, he switched off the electric chandelier and the sun became his nightlight, creeping almost imperceptibly around the edge of the blackout curtains. He tried to open them, to look out at the city by day, but found that they were pinned tightly against the wall at each corner. In a rush of rebellion against his situation, he tore them free, and looked out from the dizzying height of Venture Tower. His hands toyed absently with the edge of the curtain as he lost himself in contemplation. Below, the people rushed through their morning commute, pulsing through the veins of the city at a steady beat. LaCroix’s people, LaCroix’s blood rivers. And his perhaps, one day, if he could wrench them away from his master. The sun played on his skin, kissing it. He was warm, and alive. He could make the best of this. Put him above any city and he would rule it. Yes, everything would be fine, and he’d just sleep with the curtains wide open so he felt a bit safer. He exhaled shakily and sunk back onto the bed.

Vincent set about making himself at home in his lavish, canopied four poster with tasseled pillows and a mountain of gold-embroidered comforters. He pulled them around himself into a plush nest, covering all but the top of his head, and tried to cuddle away the profound sense of trauma that was settling into his bones. After all that had passed in the previous days, he'd needed this so badly: to be somewhere warm and soft and bright and soon to be unconscious. He rubbed at his wrists, where the rope had pressed into them, and his puffy eyes, and curled in on himself to fall asleep.

He was being carried, as he had once been as a child.

He was being carried to bed in the middle of the day, and he didn’t trust the thing that was carrying him at all. It was a gory, demonic figure, which he might have recognized as his father by its face if it had a head. But it didn’t, and he recognized it instead by the way it sent his heart slamming into his ribcage, the way he struggled against its touch in instant panic.

Abruptly, it dropped him. Somehow, that was worse. Vividly, so vividly that it must be real, he felt himself slam into his bed and sat up screaming in his Versailles bedroom. He threw off the tangled covers, dashed to the door to be in the presence of someone human, anyone, just the guard who stood by his room at night – and the guard was headless, gore trailing over the collar of his suit.

“Oh - bordel de merde...oh mon dieu... [Oh – holy shit…oh my god…]” He backed away trembling beyond all control, terror hitting him over and over in waves as the thing turned its headless body towards him. He couldn’t tell if he was more afraid to keep looking at it, or to turn his back on it in order to run. Tripping over his feet, he tore his eyes away and sprinted down the staircase and into the grand entrance, past headless maids and headless Myrmidons and headless butlers who all reached slowly towards him, mindless and uncaring. Was there anyone in the house who wasn’t headless? In the whole world? Or was he completely alone in some hell dimension? No one could speak to him. No one could see him or listen to him. They could only hurt him if they got to him, and he was screaming, he realized. He was screaming so much and –

And someone else was screaming too.

In the depths of the palace, someone was near him, screaming in the same agonized fear. Someone else must have a head on their shoulders. No, for once, in the clutches of his worst dreams, he was not alone.

Vincent did not stop screaming, did not stop tearing through the halls, fighting to escape. But someone was there, and he felt a mysterious kinship with them. He did not know where this poor, pitiful friend had come from, or where to look for them, but they became his constant companion. For every French night and California day that followed, the screaming of a fellow sufferer would visit him again, and whenever it did, he immediately started searching, trying to reach them.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

The Los Angeles night was sunless and cold and it suited LaCroix just fine. As much as he missed the sun, he feared it more. Besides, night was clear, it was silent. Free of distractions…that was, until Vincent arrived.

Beautiful terror of a creature, Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont. LaCroix caught himself repeating his name in his head and repeating his face behind his eyes. In the midst of long meetings or bent over his desk at midnight, he glanced out the window at the blackness as if he half expected to see Vincent on the sidewalk below. Where in the city was he at any given time? And why exactly did LaCroix care?

Vincent made him crazy, made him do the most absurd things. The ghoul obeyed him, but barely. He asked too many questions. He deviated from his assignments to talk to people he shouldn’t be bothering, to chase information and probably freedom. And worst of all, he seemed so heartbreakingly miserable. So LaCroix bought new suits, and strawberry cakes, and antique books of poetry, all for Vincent. All to try to appease him. He could never seem to do the thing that would bring Vincent to heel, couldn’t win his loyalty and it unsettled him greatly. He had never felt so protective over a ghoul or so challenged by one. Every day was a struggle for control, a playfight that was more than just play. It made him invested, it made him want to break Vincent’s mind like a cinnamon stick, and at some particularly baffling moments, it made him want to break himself. To give up and just wring his hands and plead, “Why won’t you listen to me? Why do you hate me? What am I doing wrong?”

He felt nerves building in his body twenty minutes before Vincent was due for his daily report each morning at 4 AM, anticipating another chance to win him over. If he didn’t know better, he would have called those nerves exhilaration. Even joy. But he did know better, because it always ended badly, with Vincent slipping through his fingers yet again.

So he would retreat to his chambers after Vincent had stormed off, left with a dull anxiety and the inexplicable wish that someone was in the room to watch over him. To chase away the feeling that he would be shot in his sleep and never wake up.

Yes, shot. That was the real fear, even though he ran a finger along the edges of the curtains before lying down to ensure they were still securely pinned. That was what he dreamed of – the Russian invasion, Waterloo. The bayonets, the muskets, the canons. The deafening explosions that had once ended his life. Even the dreaded fire of the sun, when he dreamed of that, was a kind of gunshot, a piercing gold blaze that tore a hole in the curtains and struck him through the heart in audible thunder. Bullets went everywhere, through everything. One day, they would find him.

How absurd it was, how irrational. He would never die that way. He couldn’t understand why his mind kept suggesting it.

But lately, something cut through the thunder. A scream, somewhere close to him. And even while he bled out, wailing hopelessly, he felt some consolation in the knowledge that there was a fellow sufferer near him and they were at least screaming out together. That he was not alone.

He was dreaming of the sun as a bullet when it happened. His chest was torn open, with fire catching at the edges of the hole, spreading and spreading, slowly consuming his body. He was screaming. And, as so often happened these days, he heard someone else screaming nearby. Oftentimes, this second scream guided him, giving him something to hold onto while he lay dying. But this time, it suddenly stopped.

His own crying got worse, much worse. Whoever they were, they were dead, or had left him. He was dying alone, burning from the inside out with the flames of the sun and the desperation to be held one more time. “No! Please don’t die, please don’t leave me, come back, please, please…” He gasped uncontrollably even though his lungs were gone by now, burned to ash -

“LaCroix.”

He scrambled back against the headboard. The lights were already on, casting Vincent in a stark, washed out white before his eyes could adjust. He realized too late that his chest was shuddering violently with gasps and his face was covered in tears. He couldn’t possibly hide what had just happened to him. “What-what the hell do you want? What are you doing here?”

Vincent stared at him in silence for a few beats, breathing almost as fast. Sebastian could hear his heartbeat flying. The man must have run to his room. “It was you.” He just about winced as he spoke, as if he regretted those words. “That is – what I mean is that you were screaming.”

LaCroix wiped at his face and arranged his body into a pose that didn’t involve being flat against the headboard in terror. “Don’t be stupid. Why would I be screaming?”

“Oh, come on.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed, thoroughly unwilling to entertain his act.

“No, I will not ‘come on.’ This is entirely untoward. If you don’t have anything intelligible to say, you will vacate my room. At once.” Don’t resist me this time, please, he thought frantically. He put all his effort into the command. Just get Vincent out. Pretend this never happened. He was still so damn rattled, all he wanted was to lie down and shake.

Vincent swore at him but turned on his heels. He was halfway to the door before the implication hit LaCroix. “Wait.”

He turned back, glaring now. “Do you want me out, or not?”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to stare at Vincent in a mix of pity and wild anxiety, and to blurt out, “My god, it was you. I heard you. From all the way down the hall…you must have been in absolute horror.”

Vincent lifted his chin, although his lips had gone very tight. “Yes. At least I can admit it.”

“But why? What on Earth could…I mean, you’ve had a peaceful life, or at least I thought – “

Vincent just flinched away from his gaze.

“…Am I wrong about that?”

“No! No. I have nothing to complain about, I have no reason to be so...” He continued to stare at the floor, flushed and breathing too fast. In another moment, he blurted out, “Please don’t compel me. Not right now. Don’t make me say this.”

“I would not, Vincent. I won’t.” The look on his face was pulling something tender out of LaCroix that he had thought was long dead. “It’s not for…times like this.”

“…Thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “May I go?”

“If you…if you want to, yes.” God, why did everything have to be so awkward between them?

But Vincent stopped at the door, and tipped back his head, cursing quietly. “Damn it, this is going to bother me, you’ll be in here upset and it bothers me, you always bother me and I hate it, I hate hearing you, I hate looking at you, I hate feeling like a fire alarm is going off in my gut whenever you’re not perfectly pleased, and it’s MADDENING, and I HATE it, and we’re both stuck with it, so let’s just get this over with…” And he rushed back across the room and dove onto the bed and…and…

LaCroix had not been hugged in at least two hundred years.

Not by anyone. Not his sire. Not any of the ghouls he kept at a distance. Certainly not by any of his associates. And who else was in his life? No one.

It was warm, and tight around his middle, and full of Vincent’s tip-tap-tip-tap pulse and his silken softness and his porcelain cheek and his vivacious, passionate being. It made him feel like his ribcage was cracking in half and his lungs were all over the floor. It made his brain flicker out of all functionality. It made him fucking cry. Again. A lot. And he hadn’t done that in front of another person in almost as long.

Get the fuck off of me, he was trying to say, but it didn’t work for two reasons. Firstly, he couldn’t form coherent words of any kind. And secondly, he didn’t want that at all.

He didn’t manage to say a single word before Vincent ran out of the room.

The nightmare was the farthest thing from his mind as he stared at the ceiling, his face slack with shock, waiting for something to make sense. He clutched the blanket against himself, trying to fill the space where Vincent had been. What was this longing that had been reawakened, this vacancy? To be sure, there was no gaping hole or a sunbeam bullet at the center of his body. But still, he had been shot, that much was certain. He felt pierced by a warm, burning, human sort of light.

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Image Sources: One | Two

[thorny-chaparral]

intro!!

hello and welcome to thornychaparral, aka @aakaneeee :3 this is my side blog for my ocs... because my main blog is getting crowded

the original characters featured on this blog:

.akane☆she/her, anakt class 39, 28 years old, romantically involved with naz, status: deceased

.aoto♧he/him, anakt class 39, escaped, 25 years old, romantically involved with marisol, status: alive

.yvonne♡she/her, anakt class 40, 24 years old, romantically involved with sebastian, status: alive

.eliana♤she/they, anakt class 40, 20 years old, (romantically, one-sided) involved with nene, status: alive

.atlas◇he/him, anakt class 40, 21 years old, romantically involved with zhuli, status: alive

.vivianᶻ𐰁she/her, anakt class 40, escaped, 25 years old, no romantic involvement, status: ■■

.aamon⊹he/him, anakt class 40, 19 years old, no romantic involvement, brother:■■, status: alive

.briar｡𖦹he/him, anakt class 41, 23 years old, romantically involved with ichor, status: alive

.viktor꒰ྀhe/him, anakt class 41, 20 years old, status: alive

i never realized I had this many...

[alearicci]

“I'm proud of you, sebastian vettel” – SV5

pairings: sebastian vettel x girlfriend!y/n

summary: Sebastian was ready to win the race and dedicate the trophy to you, but something went wrong.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

To the applause of the supportive audience, Sebastian Vettel was preparing for another exciting Formula 1 race. Aiming for victory, he had high hopes for a successful day on the track. The training went more than well, the team took into account all the features of the track and corrected some details in the car, in qualifying he became second, which gave him a big advantage, and weather conditions allowed him to set a good time and get a place on the podium.

The satisfaction of a job well done remained inside him throughout this pre-race time, increasing his confidence in winning the upcoming Grand Prix. There was still time before it started, and therefore, Seb decided to spend these hours as productively and usefully as possible.

The mood was at its height, it could not but rejoice. He smiled at everyone who appeared on his way, was as friendly as possible and even signed the largest number of posters, caps and T-shirts for the last five Grand Prix.

Communicating with his fans, signing countless souvenirs and posing for photos, Vettel felt deeply grateful for their unwavering support. Their enthusiasm fueled his determination and lifted his spirits even more, encouraging him not to make the fans disappointed in him. The connection he shared with his fans reminded him of why he loved racing, and of the great joy they brought both to him and his followers.

With every autograph and light conversation, Vettel's expectation before the race grew. He knew that his performance during qualifying had laid a solid foundation, but he also understood that the real test was still ahead. The desire to turn his efforts into a victory intensified in him, and he mentally prepared for the challenges that awaited him on the track. The track is not easy, you need to combine speed and ride quality so as not to fly into the gravel.

When it came time to get into the car, Vettel's thoughts were filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The realization that he has a great potential for victory, combined with the support of the fans, caused him such a pleasant, such a necessary adrenaline rush. He imagined with a sinking heart how he would be the first to cross the finish line, how he basked in the rays of glory, celebrated the victory with his team and, returning to the hotel room, rejoiced at the trophy with his beloved girlfriend y/n.

Y/n.

Y/n became everything to him. For him, she was not just a girl with whom he was in a relationship; she was his support, his soul, his personal happiness, his number 1 fan and the source of the greatest support.

Whenever Sebastian thought of y/n, a warm, tender feeling swept over his heart, making it beat much faster. Her bright smile was always in front of my eyes in difficult moments. Her eyes shone with love and understanding. She could always brighten up even the darkest and most terrible days.

He truly treasured every moment they spent together; every moment when their laughter echoed through the air, and their souls danced in perfect harmony.

Y/n's unwavering faith in Sebastian's abilities as a Formula 1 driver was one of the things that fueled his determination on the race track. He knew that before every race she would be very close, her unwavering support would be felt through the crowd. The thought that she was encouraging him from the outside, that her eyes were fixed on him with unshakable faith, filled him with a feeling of love and appreciation for this girl.

In those precious minutes before the race, when tension and adrenaline coursed through his veins, Sebastian closed his eyes and imagined y/n's face. He could almost feel her gentle touch, her fingers gently touching his cheek, whispering words of encouragement that resonated deep in his soul. It was as if she was next to him, her presence enveloped him in a cocoon of love and tranquility.

"You'll do fine, Seb. I'm here and I love you more than life."

It seems that this time the nerves are seriously making themselves felt, since he even imagines her voice. The Ferrari driver shook his head slightly, as if bringing himself to his senses. But then the voice of the racing engineer was heard.

"y/n asked for headphones to wish you good luck, we couldn't refuse her. "

"So it didn't seem like it..."

" What?"

"Nothing. Can you hear me?"

"It's okay. We are ready to win."

"Ready."

However, fate had other plans for the famous racer.

From the moment the lights went out, which marked the start of the race, it became obvious that this time the Grand Prix would not go according to one pre-conceived scenario with Sebastian.

Almost at the very beginning there was a series of annoying incidents, because of which he noticeably lagged behind in the race. The car's engine struggled with all its might, trying not to let the driver down, and his skillful maneuvers met the resistance of opponents. With each lap passed, the dream of a satisfactory finish slipped further away. The dream of a happy y/n was slipping further and further away.

When the race reached its climax and there were only a few laps left, Sebastian's car collided with another driver. The impact was strong, forcing the German to lose control of the car and crash into the fence. This seemingly insignificant collision was enough for his car to go off the track.

This incident was the last blow in an already disappointing race for Sebastian.

He groaned loudly in frustration and closed his eyes.

Racing engineer: "Sebastian, are you okay?"

Vettel: (Breathing heavily) "I'm fine, but the car got hit. Can you hear me?"

Racing engineer: "Sebastian, we hear you loud and clear. Are you sure you're okay? It was a strong blow. Stay calm, help is on the way."

Vettel: "I'm a little shaken up, but physically I'm fine, apart from a couple of minor scratches. The car is damaged, I was very unwound."

Racing Engineer: "Glad to hear you're okay, Seb. This is the most important thing. We'll check on you as soon as possible. Now let's assess the damage to the car. Do you see any serious problems?"

Vettel: "The front wing is completely missing, and the suspension on the right side is damaged. I can't move the car right now."

Racing Engineer: "OK, Seb. Stay put and the rescue team will arrive to you soon. We will assess the damage and see if the car can be repaired. Remember, safety comes first. We'll get you back on track as soon as we can."

“Damn, these conversations only make it worse. I immediately imagine myself as a small child being scolded for disobedience,” Sebastian thought and took off his gloves first, and then his helmet.

Rescuers arrived quickly enough. They helped him out, and later took care of the car.

Soon Sebastian was standing in the paddock and watching the engineers work. It was clear to him that he would not return to the race, but a tiny, very small hope still glimmered in his soul.

The team leader saw his thoughtfulness and came up behind him, lightly slapping him on the shoulder.

"The car was seriously damaged and it cannot be repaired in this race. We're going to have to drop out of the race, Sebastian. I'm sorry."

"I'm disappointed, but I understand. It happens in races and it's a miracle that no one was injured."

"Of course, Seb. Races can be unpredictable, and accidents can happen. It is important that you are safe and we will analyze what happened to prevent similar incidents in the future."

"Yes, you're right. I'll take it as an experience and come back even stronger. Thank you for your support."

"That's right, Seb! We are always here to support you. Take the time to relax and regroup. We will review the data again and discuss it with the team.

"I always appreciate the efforts and dedication of the team. Let's keep moving forward and strive for better results next time."

"Of course, Seb. We believe in you. Keep your head up and remember: every challenge is an opportunity for growth.

The man was about to leave when he suddenly stopped and slapped his forehead.

'I completely forgot, y/n is waiting for you at the medical center, she was very nervous about your accident."

Sebastian's heart skipped a beat.

He took off abruptly and ran to the medical center as fast as he could. He needed to see y/n right now. The withdrawal from the race instantly faded into the background.

His mind was filled with a mixture of emotions—fear, guilt, and a desperate need to comfort his girlfriend. He replayed the accident over and over in his head, wanting to turn back time and prevent it. In a split second, Sebastian lost control of his car, unable to avoid a collision with the fence. He was shocked by the blow, feeling the weight of disappointment grow.

Right now, he wasn't thinking about anything but y/n. The rider's heart was about to jump out of his chest.

Y/n could barely stand on her feet when she saw the incident with Seb with her own eyes. She felt a surge of anxiety and fear, knowing that Sebastian's safety was paramount. Her hands trembled slightly, and she instinctively clutched the cold metal railing. Deep down, she knew that accidents are an inherent risk in sports, but personally watching this was probably the most terrible experience of her life.

Y/n's heart ached for Sebastian, knowing how much he had invested in the race. She wanted to offer him support and comfort at this moment, but knowing that he needed space to process his emotions changed her mind. The girl understood the difficulties of this sport and was ready to overcome the ups and downs with her beloved.

Seeing Sebastian being helped out of the car, y/n staggered violently, causing the others present to be horrified. She had had to deal with similar experiences before, but lately her morale left much to be desired.

"y/n, are you, are you okay?"

"I'm not feeling well..."

"Take her to the infirmary immediately. Apparently, she was too upset because of Seb," the lead engineer said decisively, and a nearby guy gently took y/n by the elbow, leading her to the nurse on duty.

The kind woman measured all the data she needed and recommended y/n to be less nervous so as not to ruin her health.

Y/n barely refrained from answering her: "Try to be less nervous yourself when you dating Sebastian, damn it, Vettel"

"Just sit here for another ten minutes so I can make sure you're okay, okay, miss?"

"Yes, of course."

The silence and peace of the room was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the door. Sebastian arrived at the first aid station, breathing heavily after a fast and intense run. His eyes scanned the room with lightning speed until they settled on y/n, sitting on a stretcher, accompanied by medical staff.

Y/n raised her head, her face pale and full of worry. As soon as their eyes met, Sebastian's anxiety evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. She's fine. Not unconscious, anyway.

Seb sighed and carefully approached his beloved, hugging her as gently as he could.

He nuzzled her neck, inhaled her native scent, and for a moment felt at home.

Y/n was the whole world to him and he wanted to keep this world.

"Hush, my love. It's all good. Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, apart from leaving the race, how do you feel?"

"It's okay, it's just that someone made me a little nervous. "

Sebastian chuckled softly. Even in such a situation, his y/n knew how to keep a sense of humor.

"Let's go to the hotel. We need to take a break from the events of today." Vettel said and, without waiting for an answer, took y/n in his arms, not forgetting to thank her and say goodbye to the nurse.

***

As soon as Sebastian and y/n crossed the threshold of their hotel room, Seb exhaled wearily and, leaning his back against the door, rolled down it.

Y/n smiled sadly and squatted down. She reached out and gently stroked Sebastian's cheek, then bent down and covered his lips with her own in a light kiss.

"You definitely need a shower, Mr. Vettel. Come on, I'll help you. Come on, get up, my champion."

Sebastian smiled weakly, but obediently got up from his seat and wandered towards the bathroom.

While he was taking off his racing suit, y/n had already managed to change into a swimsuit and prepare soap accessories.

He slowly made his way to the shower stall, allowing himself some time alone to collect his thoughts. The piercing jets of water flowing out of the shower head beckoned him, promising comfort to his tired body and mind.

Seeing her boyfriend standing under the falling water, y/n felt that he needed something more than just physical relief. She cautiously entered the bathroom and approached him, her presence bringing a soothing calm to the room. Cautiously approaching closer, y/n reached out and ran her fingertips through Sebastian's wet hair, massaging his scalp with gentle love and care. Then she washed off the foam and moved to her back, kneading the hard muscles with her tiny palms.

Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling his tension melt away as y/n continued to work her magic. The warmth of the water combined with y/n's attentive touch created a safe harbor for him, allowing him to get rid of the pressure of an unsuccessful race. He sighed contentedly, feeling the tension dissolve with each passing moment.

As the water dripped down his face, Sebastian turned to y/n and his eyes finally met hers. A deep feeling of gratitude filled his heart, and he whispered softly:

"Thank you, my love. Your presence and your touch bring me unspeakable comfort. I do not know what I would do without you."

Y/n smiled warmly, her eyes shining with love and admiration. She replied:

"Seb, you are a real warrior on the race track, but even warriors need time to do great things again. I'm here to support you in every way possible. Let the water purify not only your body, but also your mind. I'm here with you. And I will always be there when you need me, my love "

Feeling an overwhelming feeling of love and understanding, Sebastian wrapped y/n in a gentle, but no less wet embrace. He closed his eyes, cherishing their bond as the water continued to wash away the remnants of the race, leaving him rested and ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. At that moment, he realized that he had found the greatest reward in her face.

When the shower was over, y/n handed Sebastian a snow-white towel, which he wrapped around his thighs, after which she changed into drier and homey clothes.

Vettel himself did not keep himself waiting, after a few minutes he was sitting on their bed dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.

"Honey... Can we lie down together for a while?" Seb asked a little awkwardly, even though it was the last thing that would make him embarrassed.

" Of course, Seb." Y/n smiled warmly and, after taking a few steps, settled comfortably on the bed.

Sebastian smiled gratefully and settled comfortably on her chest, listening to the measured heartbeat.

The girl gently stroked his hair, lightly massaged the scalp, relieving all the tension accumulated during the day.

"I'm proud of you, Sebastian Vettel. No matter what defeats, no matter what setbacks, you will always be number one for me. It's just a bump on the road and you'll be back on track much stronger than you were before. You gave it your all. We all have days when things don't go according to plan, but that doesn't detract from your talent and skill. In my eyes, you will always be a champion. I love you more than life, Seb."

As if putting a big and important point in her words, y/n smiles and kisses Sebastian on the forehead.

They have each other, which means they will cope with all difficulties together.