#sub seb

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Certified Good Boy Posture™️

[f1-disaster-bi]

Thanks to someone (@princelancey 🙄)......I now have Lance domming Seb thoughts in my head for the Pro Dom au

[fandomfluffandfuck]

[Link]

i was watching seb's interviews from yesterday screening at tiff and twitter*com/imTulip/status/1039378367588397058 'I tend to fall into this more subservient kinda role' you don't say, sebastian! I would have never guessed it!

god has anyone in their entire life been more desperate to be put on their knees and gently, firmly, sweetly told what to do

[sebinwhite]

Sebastian Vettel in “Wir können auch anders”

watch here with english subtitles

[tommydarlings]

Now available on my Patreon ! <3

PATREON MASTERLIST !

[crovvlipso]

I don’t know how to explain this but the way you draw older Sebastian makes him look so tired but also so at peace? Like in a good way? He doesn’t just look like Sebastian with a beard and some crows feet, he looks like a man who was completely transformed by his love for his family. I just really love the way you draw him, regardless of his age <3 I hope this makes sense! This has been on my mind for a while but your recent of him reading with Victarian made me want to tell you cause it is such a lovely drawing.

Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it! And all you said make sense 💖 I'm so proud of how he turned out to be this way, calm and mature, the man who lost everything in his past and trying to make the present better.

He's Hogwarts Professor in my story! Teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, he didn't want to accept this job at first, it reminds him of his dark past, but he has to accept it because it's the only way to be close to his children to look after them.

Bonus (I don't even know why I drew this lmao)

[demonhuntingcaterpillar]

My Hogwarts Legacy character crucioing her bf because Edith knows a man is at his sexiest when he is in pain. Atta Slytherin 💚✨

[cypionatebandit]

the rest of the baseball team, you're just one of the guys to them. you’re one of them when they're shoving each other around and making crass jokes, you get the same treatment as the rest after you make a home run.

you all go to the captain’s place after the game, most of the team is there, and you and a few of the other varsity guys go to the basement to get high, crowding on the shitty couch.

you take the first drag and it's too deep like you always do, and you're bent over choking and sputtering as you try to breathe. they're all laughing and patting your back as you're doubled over on the couch, and the rest of them pass the pen around.

you don't feel it at first, as you catch your breath, just sinking into the cushions behind you. then the world starts to spin and you can't help the smile almost shoving its way onto your face as you lean your head so far back that it all turns upside down.

and then one of the guys (shortstop, maybe, you can’t tell) pulls at your arm, and you can’t help but go along as the room tilts on it’s axis and your muscles twitch and he guides you to straddle his legs. his palms sweep over your thighs and they’re so, so warm. it’s all you can think about.

he slides his hands up to your hips, shifts you to straddle his muscled thigh and it feels so good, your hips twitching as he grips your waist and guides you to grind down against him. even through the layers of your clothing the friction against your clit feels so good. it’s almost involuntary when you start to hump his leg. you can’t stop, your hips thrusting themselves as you pitch forward and bury your head into his shoulder.

two hands slide up to your back, hooking under your arms and pulling you closer to his chest. you can’t stop grinding on his thigh, he doesn't even have to guide you anymore. one of the other guys strokes a hand through your hair and you feel the couch shift as a third person sits next to you.

the hand in your hair tightens, pulls your head up, and it takes effort to open your eyes. the captain, you can see now, his hand moves from your hair, sliding down your cheek to slip his thumb between your lips. you start to suck almost in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, saliva building and leaking out the corners of your lips even through your cotton-mouth high, your cunt soaking your boxers making each helpless twitch and jerk of your hips even better against your sensitive clit. you whine around the finger in your mouth, eyes falling closed almost against your will as you suck harder with the building pleasure.

the one who had sat next to you both, barely visible in your peripheral—he has to be the first baseman, he was the last one to come down with you all—he grabs one of your hands from where you had forgotten them at your sides, too distracted to care, and you can hear him unzips his pants. his dick is already hard and leaking when he wraps your hand around it, using his own to hold it in place. he starts to thrust into your grip, slick and hot against your palm.

the finger leaves your mouth and you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips as you try to chase it, mouth messy and agape, hips still instinctually grinding down and sending sparks of pleasure through your body. you don't have to wait for long as it feels before the thick head of a cock is pushed against your lips. he pushes forward on the edge of too-rough and you nearly choke on it. his hand goes back in your hair and you suck as he pushes you down on his cock at his own pace.

your nerves are overwhelmed, pushed to the brink, and tears are forced out of your eyes as you don't know where to focus between all of the hands on you, the cock in your mouth, in your hand, the thigh between your legs as you helplessly grind your clit against it. you can’t think and you can barely breathe.

you barely recognize the orgasm for what it is when it shutters through you, another whine stopped in your throat by the cock pushing down it, and your muscles seize as your hips keep jerking and twitching, and even as it gets too much you couldn't stop if you tried. it goes on for ages, it feels like, before you slump boneless against the shortstop’s chest, head still tilted upwards by the hand in your hair.

the cock in your mouth hasn’t stopped, but each thrust gets faster and rougher, spit dripping down your chin. the captain pulls out and you heave a breath before you feel the ropes of his cum hit your face, getting in your mouth. around the same time, you think, you can’t really tell anymore, the thrusts of the first baseman next to you start to stutter and you can feel the hot pulse of his dick as he cums in your hand.

you're too tired to tell what’s happening as they shuffle around, and you're dragged to sit in someone else's lap, propped against their chest. you keep your eyes closed, mind spinning like an off-center top.

they tilt your head up with a finger and you can hear the captain’s voice as he wipes the cum from your face with a wipe. such a good boy for us, he says, and you breathe.

[gothushi]

For your mess question, it's Seb. Definitely Seb! Especially when he gets into his rages, oh my mother fucking God!

Maybe Nikolai, too, if we can pretend he goes into a vampire type heat.

I'm also gonna throw in Hook because I don't see him getting enough love on tumblr.

yes yes yes i’m so happy we all mutually agreed it’s seb. boy gets horny easy and he just isn’t used to being touched that he’s so sensitive:( makes a big mess with sticky precum and when he does cum? everywhere. oozing down his cock, leaving a creamy ring at the base when he’s fucking you, he’d pull out and it’d spill right from your hole it big globs, making his mouth water

i can see nikolai too. not exactly related to the direct topic but he gets blood drunk. will feed from you and have it smeared all over his lips and chin, blood staining your skin as he lazily licks it clean, satiated and pliant. then you notice he’s fucking rutting against the bed and he’s already came in his pants. (hc he doesn’t wear boxers or underwear) so he’s just made a big mess and it’s sticking to his pants and then smearing on his thighs. you flip him over this time to kneel and lick him clean, all the while he’s suckling some blood off his fingers whilst his cock starts dripping onto his tummy again

for hook…. i can see it too. definitely need to get writing for him more often. but he’s a bit more put together. he just gets so fucking hard for you it’s ridiculous and he leaks a lot of precum. shows it off whilst you’re undressing him “see how fucking hard i am for you?” “look at what you’ve done to me” “better clean up this mess, doll”. you’re just as bad as him, dripping and making a mess of your thighs and he’ll definitely make fun of you for it:/

[fandomfluffandfuck]

S, I'm beginning you please write something about the new videos of Sebastian in the Gym. I need some smutty M/F action because I'm going ferral for those images 😩

related to all the content coming from Don's social media about Seb's return to the gym mafia

I already have a ton of requests to get to--which I do love, it's wild to have people want my writing so much, like, what the hell--and normally I get to them based on who's been waiting the longest but... the Seb content is so recent, I just have to get down with this 👀

(And I promise if you're not into x reader content, we'll get back to regularly scheduled programming soon! It just so happens that I got two x reader requests so soon after opening my ask box fully again.)

gif made by @/unearthlydust

Between the few moments it takes for the sound of keys jingling to register in your brain, hitting your ears muffled from outside, and the short time it takes for you to walk from your miniature modestly sized NYC apartment living room to the entryway, Sebastian has managed to unlocked the door, slide into your home, and... sit himself on the floor, apparently.

His head is reclined back, resting on the wall. Conversely, his legs are folded up, knees bent, his arms resting on them. He has yet to attempt to start to take his shoes off. Clearly, he walked in--or maybe he crawled, you muse to yourself, smirking--and immediately put himself down on his ass.

A chuckle leaves you at the sight of him. But, there's more breath contained in the amusement-colored sound than you'd like to admit. As you tilt your head down to take him in, you excuse your stare with a question, "Don work you over good, baby?"

You stare more while he thinks about his answer, processing, clearly frazzled from whatever mild torture Don put him through this time, not just working out but working out on film, meaning they stopped and started and stopped and started and had to refilm sets and probably ended up doing double the work planned. He took a long time today.

You saw him when he left, but the sight of Sebastian is much different now when his shirt is soaked through with sweat, the thin, breathable fabric clinging obscenely to the hard, lean shape of his body. His collar, err, the collar of his shirt is more stretched than you remember, exposing just a taste of his collarbones. Something in you whispers salaciously to pull it down more until you hear the seams start to give way so you can drag your teeth against the sharp lines of his collarbones, leave him gasping, so you can smooth your lips down the defined line between his pecs and feel his heart start to pound as if he's back on the treadmill. He must've been pulling at his shirt collar, dying to get out of his clothes, too hot. He probably even stripped himself out of it at some point. The thought makes you shift your weight where you stand from one foot to the other, cocking your hip, barely resisting the urge to cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, thinking of, picturing really, all his tanned, smoothed skin, his muscles seemingly more defined after each session with Don. More and more firm under your teasing fingertips.

From your place a few feet away, looming, you watch him swallow. The rolling, contracting motion of his throat unfolding in slow motion, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Seb?" You have half the mind to prompt him again, your lips curling into a wider smirk despite yourself, preoccupied.

You're beginning to feel like a cat toying with a mouse...

"Yeah, yeah," he murmurs, swallowing again, thunking his head back against the wall slightly as if to wake himself up. His hair is damp and wavy from the session, the texture fighting against his cut and style, frizzing up as if it wants to play, too.

He's so fucking cute.

Unbearably attractive and cute.

Sitting down there, his chest isn't exactly heaving, but he's not casually breathing either; still sweaty and flushed, his body is clearly begging for oxygen, leaving him at its mercy to completely fill and empty his lungs. As his chest expands, your eyes can help but wander down to the outline of his nipples through his clinging, painted-on, almost transparent shirt; they're hard and pointed, right there high on his pecs, so exposed.

Drawn in, you take a step closer to him, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Your boyfriend, spontaneously becoming a puddle on your floor... oh, no, whatever will you do?

"Don's gonna kill me someday," Sebastian finally manages, adding on, "I'm so tired," and host-to-god pouting up at you. Then, as if that isn't enough, he blinks at you. Those big eyes. If you didn't know better, you'd suspect he was batting those eyelashes at you. You do know better. You know he is.

Even when he's turned to liquid, too hot, too melted and tired, he's a tease. Brat, maybe, is a better word...

At least you don't mind soaking him up. Mopping him up? Either way, between the two of you, there's something there, something ironic about the way he melts, turns to molten liquid, anyone else would expect it'd be you, getting wet, and... yeah. A wider grin splits your mouth. You don't care if you look a little predatory, perhaps unhinged with desire. It's Sebastian's fault. Coming home. Sitting there. Looking like that. He's a sitting, slouching duck.

Realistically, he needs a shower. He's sweaty, and he smells like more than deodorant and laundry, how he did when he left, but you don't give a shit. You know what you need.

"I don't wanna get up," he huffs, hiding his hopeful smile by licking his too pink lips as you prowl another step closer.

Goddamn.

Again, you step closer, coming to stand in front of him. Standing over him.

"Then don't," one of your eyebrows creeps up, a challenge and raising an expression that makes you look imposing. You know it does simply by the way Sebastian reacts to you--his muscles relaxing even more, slouching into the wall a little more, his breathing getting just a touch heavier. He's so statifyingly easy.

A sigh slips out of his statically parted lips--the cherry on top.

"Too tired to get up?" You ask, "poor guy, stuck on the floor, hmm? Your muscles all sore, helpless andd--" your teasing words trail off as you move, gracefully moving into action, tapping his left wrist where it's balanced on his left knee with the pads of your fingers, patiently waiting not long at all for him to allow his sneaker-covered feet to slide odediently across the wooden floor. It leaves his legs straight, spread into an easy v.

Perfect.

You step neatly over him with one foot, positioning yourself to get into his lap without fret. Settling in easy as anything. You've had plenty of practice here. Still, he gasps when the back of your thighs and ass make contact with his body, separated by your own clothes and his soft, blue shorts. He's already hard. You can feel the heated line of him, pressing insistently against you. A deeper curl of heat hooks into you, pulling you toward him, letting your hands rest on his broad shoulders.

"--what ever are we gonna do about your delicate condition?" You pick up where you left off, cocking you head to the side at the same time that you lift a deft hand to cup his jaw, petting along it's sharp cut, "what ever am I gonna do about it?" You think out loud, correcting yourself.

Sebastian let's out a shuddering exhale.

"No thoughts?" You tease, gripping his cleft chin insistently. Not tightly, but firm.

"N-no," he concludes, even though you can feel him squirming underneath you, hardly reining himself in from grinding up against you. He wants something. But he's not going to ask for it, he likes it better when you decide what to do with him anyway.

"Hmm," you take a moment to really think, still struck by how attractive he is. Even gym-sweaty and a little gross--especially gym-sweaty. It's a good fucking look.

Inspiration strikes.

You let your hands fall from his face, relishing inside at the soft sound he makes, so weak for your touch, and instead blaze a path down his throat to his collarbones that wing out into his shoulders, down his arms, then back up.

"I ever tell you how handsome you are?" You look up from where your fingertips catch on his shirt sleeves.

Immediately, the bridge of Seb's nose is red, back to that post-gym glow and then some. Underneath you, his strong thighs tense, reacting viscerally to the praise. Enjoying.

You huff something of a laugh. He's just so precious. "Is that a no?" Your hands keep moving in parallel with your lips, exploring him all over again; he's spread out just for you, so you might as well. Jesus. You can't resist squeezing his arms as you scoot higher on his lap, really pressing your hips together as you feel him up, his muscles still pumped and hard after use. "'Cause you are, you're gorgeous," the words come out rougher around the edges than you mean, something snapping, arousal igniting from sparks to a smolder.

As red as he already was, his color flushes darker, eyes darting away. Shy.

"You're so fucking handsome, so pretty," you bring your squeezing hands up, pressing into his muscle enough to make the ache in them resurface as you take ahold of his shoulders.

Another noise bubbles up from Sebastian's chest, both a reaction to the words and to the sensation. He's always enjoyed pleasure with an edge--if not a soft, throbbing ache than outright pain. Sharp and overwhelming, stealing his breath, leaving him without the ability to focus on anything but how good it feels. How much it hurts. How hot and irresistible it is. Between lapping waves, pulses, of heat low inside you, you feel Sebastian getting hotter, too. Parallel. His dick twitches beneath you.

You feel wicked.

You haven't even done anything yet! Just told him the truth. And it makes you dangerous, knowing so much truth and being unafraid to say it to him. To pull each reaction, so sensitive, out of him without mercy.

"I can't believe it sometimes, y'know, honey?" You slip your hands down his back, hot between the wall and his shapely trapezius muscles, his well-sculpted shoulder blades, the line of his spine, and farther. The smoothed muscles of his back, sides, and chest m strain as his lungs expand, sucking in air, feeding the fiery combustion you know is thriving in his gut.

You reach the small of his back and push into the curve of his spine until he arches with you, falling against your chest. His lips brush your chest just below your collarbone, high above your breasts, but you feel your nipples tighten anyway.

"Yeahh," you sigh, letting your head fall back with the weight of your skull, "'s unbelievable."

His humid breath soaks through your clothes, nuzzling into you. God, you wish you fucking took your clothes off before you got into his lap because, Jesus Christ, how are you going to leave now? Your hips buck down against the line of his erection, and your hands dig into his sore muscles harder.

"Oh!" He exclaims in a sharp exhale.

Just for that, heated, you roll your hips more intentionally against him. Just a few times. You know you both have the same thoughts crowding your minds, dirty--the last time you did something like this. Except, last time, his arms were spread, wrists tied back to the headboard, back to the sturdy frame, sitting up with you in his lap, bouncing, your tits in his face, in his mouth, his wet tongue and soft lips and sharp teeth, his sweet sounds muffled as you took pleasure from him. His cock deep inside you, curved and thick.

Now, easily, he curls forward to give you space to touch him. Eagerly wilting or blooming, you can't say, too distracted. Either way, he surrenders so beautifully.

"I look at you, and, mmhh," you clench your thighs around his waist, tight, when he kisses the hollow of your throat lushly, almost panting into what he can reach of your skin, "I-I'm pretty sure I'm losing my goddamn mind because nobody just looks like that."

Speaking of, you already miss his stupidly attractive face, and so, without hesitation, your fingers thread themselves into his thick, wavy hair and peel him off of you, your heat fuzing you together. He goes with a silent moan, mouth hanging open.

"Yeah, look at that face," you tell him, tipping your head down to stare openly, directly, hungrily, tugging at his hair. The way his eyelids droop heavily, shadowing his darkened eyes, is wildly attractive, lulled so effectively by the praise and light pain. Not even pain, just sting. Again, you've not done anything. Barely anything, yet...

Oof.

Here he is, drunk on it.

Yet another hit of electricity strikes you, leaving you rocking in his lap, grinding minutely against him, as slow as the ache inside you can take. The smoldering embers start to crackle. Fanned and growing.

"Fuck believing it," you purr at him, now dragging your nails against his scalp so he shivers with the tingling, teasing sensation, the sting much stronger now, "I can't take it," your other hand smooths down his chest, feeling the well-earning, hard muscles. "It's not good for me, Seb. You have too much pretty, baby." He makes a wanton sound that embarrasses him more, judging by the way he quivers and lets go of another helpless, punched-out gasp.

As a reward, you circle one of his nipples with your thumb. He shivers harder. Pleasured and teased. Then, worse, you grind harder, your insides knotting up. Tightening. You can feel the sticky wetness of your arousal really beginning to dampen your panties. You're both going to need a shower after this.

"I don't know how we get anything done," you sigh," letting go of his hair to massage his chest muscles, just this side of harsh, you want him to feel the tender ache.

A murmur of your name falls from his open lips after he licks them, leaving them shiny and too alluring. The desire to sit on his face rises inside you so intensely it's fucking violent. You want.

Fuck.

Flames crackle and dance through your body. Hot. Deep. Echoing and making you feel the heat again and again.

"Doesn't matter what you're wearing, what you're doing. But, ugh, God, when you're in pre-production mode," indulging yourself, you wriggle, restless with the erotic images flashing through your mind's eye, "working out and--" a sighing, hot noise falls out of you, letting the rest of your sentence fall away, distracted again. Reminded of how he looks right now. Today. Underneath you. "You look like a statue, you know that?"

He peeks up at you through his lashes, biting his bottom lip and, fuck, what're you supposed to do but go for blood? As much as you want him to believe every word, there's something about the shyness, too... that big-eyed, unsure, but oh-so trusting stare. It's like a dagger of erotism straight through the heart. A deadly weapon, you swear, those eyes, cutting you open and filling you with molten desire.

Fingers teasing his nipples, circling, rubbing, pinching you let his breathless sounds underscore more praise, "you look like you belong in a museum with a special plaque, just for you, begging people to mind their manners and not touch."

"I don't--" he half-chokes, half-wines.

"You do," you insistently flick one of his nipples, showing your teeth when he really, actually whines. "It's not their fault, though, Seb. Is it?"

Obediently, he shakes his head just once. Hard. Barely able to look away from you for a moment, even if it's just to answer you.

"One look at you, and they forget themselves, don't they?" You kiss his high, sharp cheekbone, relishing in his blushing, feverish heat. "They just want a piece of you. They'd touch and grope and eat you up if they could. I mean, fuck, just look at yourself, baby--"

He looks down. You know all he sees is your hands on him, you in his lap, you don't mind. Still, you coo at him, "good boy." If for nothing else than to feel his heart beat wildly against your palms feeling up, groping, massaging his chest. His heart working hard to surge lust-thick blood to his cock. He must be aching worse than you are. All you can think about is how wet you're getting, how tight your chest feels, how much you want to touch yourself and, goddamnit, you know what-?

Arching your back--growing hotter with his hoarse groan of desire, his gaze heavy on your tits--you manage to tear a hand off of Sebastian's body. Instead of him, you put it on yourself, sliding your fingers down, down, down from under your boobs to your stomach and lower. Caressing yourself.

Sebastian's breathing speeds up, his eyes locked onto your every move. Fervently watching despite the fact that you're fully clothed. The attention is heady.

Finally, arriving at your destination--slowly, teasingly, you slide your hand beneath the waistband of the fabric entrapping you, seperating your bodies so thinly and yet so devastatingly, too. So close. So far.

Under your shorts and panties, you can really fucking feel how hot you are for this. For him. So aroused it's humid. Sticky, wet heat. You feel it, and Sebastian hears it--the second you start to touch yourself, the lewd sounds announce it. Both the tempting noises of your fingers sliding down your pulsing, swollen slit, finding where you're soaked to bring the slickness up and rub tight circles around your clit, electric, lush, and the ripped-out noise of a moan.

Oh, God.

Your fingers tease yourself, touch yourself, and press against your clit, stealing your own breath from your lungs. Rather than clenching your thighs around his solid waist, you let your legs spread wide, easing a gratifying, punched-out moan from Seb.

Your breath catches as you think of what it'd be like if were naked right now, he'd see everything, the rhythm of your fingers as you pleasure yourself, the sight of your pussy, wet and hot and plump, aching for him, so ready. Without clothes, you could spread yourself wider, too. Show him more. Then, it'd be so easy for him to slide into you, too. It'd feel so good. Thick and, "mmmmguh," you moan, wordless. Pressing harder, grinding against your hand more than you grind down against him, pleasure ramping up.

Sebastian has started to pant harshly, interrupted by stuttered starts and stops of words. Probable begs to be allowed to touch you inside or choked-off wishes to fuck you. Feel you around him--his fingers, his cock, anything.

Anything.

Abruptly, too horny to stau put together, you think about his abs. Yeah. The way his abdomen goes taut and hard with the jerk of his hips, muscles flexing, and then your thoughts spiral further. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking about being wet and slipping and sliding, grinding against his stomach, above his cock, taking pleasure but giving nothing to him. Relishing in how he arches and pleads under you, pushing into you--folding against you. He doesn't get anything while you get everything. Controlling him. Gorgeous and strong and all. Leaving him so hard and engorged, the veins in his cock emboldened, the throb of his pulse when you finally take him inside of you, clenching, moaning through your gritted teeth, feeling it as he fucks you, pushing back, taking more of it, taking it--

Your eyes open, only now aware they were shut in the first place. Now could you? You just have to look at him.

You're so hungry you can't resist sliding your fingers down and pressing one, then two inside yourself. Quick. You're so wet. Soaked. Fingering yourself faster, you cry out, bucking against your own hand to catch the heel of it, needing pressure on your clit as the heat of your orgasm builds deep inside you. Tight. Hot. Pleasure knotting up deep inside you and making more wetness drip out of you. Your panties might as well be ruined. You don't care; you want it even while your thighs quiver.

"Seb!" You moan, squirming as he stares, eyes glued between your legs, watching you as if you are naked, so seduced by how you've put yourself on display, unable to stop the show now that you're so far in, so deeply effected by him, his pretty face and unreal body. Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian, your mind reels. "L-look at me," you gasp, as much of an order as you can manage when you're so close.

He does.

You moan.

"Th-that's it, sweetheart," he couldn't blush harder if he tried, "that's it, lemme see all that face, oh, oh God," your nails bite into his hip, needing something, anything to hold onto as it builds up, it builds, and builds, it's coming! Coming--breaking.

Breaking.

Tripping over his name and falling into more praise, "guh-god, you're so fucking pretty, I, mmmgh, I, fucking, fuck, I can't stand it. You're so hot. Jesus, Seb, do you know what you do to me? L-look at me and wh-what you do to, to me, oh, Seb!"

You orgasm wetly. Loudly. Wailing through gritted teeth. Body shuddering--shattering in clenching waves.

Ohh.

The look on Sebastian's face when you finally manage to rip your eyes open again--the overwhelming sensations slowly fading despite your chest still heaving from your release--is devastating. He looks drunk. Dumbfounded. Stupid in the best way.

All over again, you quiver. That expression, so thick with lust, dives down, hitting you straight between the legs--combining, deadly, with the sensitive last dregs of your orgasm, leaving your toes curling.

It's so goddamn arresting that all you can do is steal your hand from between your legs, fingers glistening, sticky wetness dripping down your palm toward your wrist, and hold it out toward him.

An offering.

One that he takes sweetly, mouth is hot and wet, velvety, around your fingers. Sucking. Licking. Groaning at your taste, swallowing, and taking it deep into him.

Breathy, you ask, "are you recovered enough to join me in the shower?"

As you tease with your words, you can't be bothered to be coy any other way, so you shove your fingers deeper into his lush mouth. He doesn't choke, but his eyes water regardless. And the sound that comes out of him, muffled and broken, might've been a sob.

Aw.

You can't resist when he cries, pleading and worked up so hard. Guh.

If you made it to the end, thanks for reading, lmao 😘

[stardewsnail]

If you can 1,2 and 10 Sebastian

MINORS DNI

Do they masturbate? (how/how often?)

Yes. Sebastian either gets off every day or maybe once a week. His sex drive is unpredictable.

Do they watch porn? (Favorite category?)

Sebastian watches porn and is very into bukkake. He also really likes watching people be tied up, gagged (specifically with a ball gag)and fucked.

Most sensitive body part (not genitals)?

His neck. Literally touch his neck and he is immediately turned on. Giving hickies will have him whimpering as if he’s been edged for hours.

[hisbutler-problematic]

i think demon!ciel and sebastian play a game called “oh i am only a small child, being talked to and now swept away by a beast of a man” and tbh only ciel thinks it’s a funny game. sebastian wishes they could do normal people kinks/role play

sebastian knows when they play this game bc suddenly ciel is not by his side, but is instead standing somewhere public looking innocent and lost

part of the fun of this game for ciel is watching sebastian trying to maneuver out of getting the police called on him

ciel, a couple centuries years old but looks 13: 🥺 i’m just a smol childe. i hope there’s no handsome but beastly man out there looking for young boy flesh 🥺🥺🥺 sebastian: young master, couldn’t you just tie me up and hit me? surely that would be just as fun

[fazcinatingblog]

Good night Tumblr xx

[ramp-it-up]

Just because. 🤗

Queen of Heaven

Pairing: Mob Boss! Bucky x Sex Club Owner! Reader

Word Count: 4K +

A/N:  This comes directly after Carnivores, Vegans, and Boy Scouts, Oh My! This is in the This Thing Of Ours AU

Warnings: As usual 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. Not Beta’d, all errors my own. Woman centered Sex club, graphic depictions of sex acts, ex-free-use Sharon Carter, voyeurism, fantasies, kinks, fetishes, choking, breath play, masturbation, bi-sexual proposition, dp, sex with multiples, Switch reader, definite dom/sub play, oral sex (m/f recieving) use of pain as pleasure, Switch Bucky, restraints, slapping, spitting, explicit talk of topping Bucky, orgasm denial, cum play, use of ‘Puppy’ pet name.  Basically reader turns Bucky out, lol. This is PWP.

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Two weeks after his first meeting with you, Bucky and Sharon Carter rolled up to a Tribeca hotel in a black SUV. His driver, Robbie, was also protection for his date tonight.

Robbie parked and Bucky stepped out, then went around and opened the other door for the blonde, who stepped out to reveal a black mini dress and steep black red bottoms. Bucky could tell that she wasn’t wearing anything else, and although it was intended to be alluring, it had no effect on Bucky.

But he played the game, smiling at her smirk as they headed into the lobby. 

“This is way outside of your wheelhouse, isn’t it Bucky? Are you sure you are not trying to give it a go again?”

Sharon turned toward Bucky and looked up at him.

Bucky stepped back and cleared his throat, establishing a boundary.

“Sharon, we talked about ground rules before we came. No. We are not giving “it” a go again. If that is a problem for you, we don’t need to go in here. Robbie can take you home. I’ll find another way to get in.”

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[sebdoesthings]

WE'RE LIVE, THIS IS NOT A DRILL WE'VE LIVE!!!!

[cypionatebandit]

i'm soooooo high and i need someone to fuck me sooo bad like so bad. i'm thinking about buying a dildo i just need to be filled so deep and so hard i can feel it just thinking about it. clenching my boycunt around nothing so desperately. please please please please Please