#ich und Kaminski fanfiction
Note
I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.
Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.
I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.
Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end.
A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity
He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.
He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.
Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.
Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.
The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.
But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?
Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?
Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.
Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.
So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.
He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.
He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.
He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.
His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.
The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.
He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.
His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.
He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.
Did she sense his discomfort?
“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.
“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”
Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.
“No, I was thinking of you”
“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”
“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”
“I just called you for the bills”
“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”
She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”
“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”
“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”
She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.
He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.
He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.
She was right.
What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.
A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.
He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.
Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.
Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.
But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.
For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.
And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .
He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.
He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.
He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause.
He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.
He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.
The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.
“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”
He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.
When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.
He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.
His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”
He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”
“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.
He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.
“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.
He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.
You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days.
So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers.
How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.
“Is that poison?”
“Rat poison” he corrected you.
You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.
“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.
He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.
He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.
“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”
He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.
Just say yes.
“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.
Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.
"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.
You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.
"Talk to me"
He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.
So weak, so helpless like a lost child.
"I can't help you if you don't talk"
Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.
"You can't help me"
"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"
He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.
"No, it is not important if I write or not"
You frowned at that comment.
"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"
He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"
Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.
When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.
His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.
"Is it Elke?"
"No, she was just right"
"About what?"
He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.
"About me"
"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."
"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"
His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.
"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"
He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"
"No"
It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.
"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"
"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"
"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"
"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”
"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"
He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.
You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.
"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"
He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.
"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"
He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.
"So you agree?"
"I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"
"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured
"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"
He chuckled at that comment.
"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”
He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.
"You find me attractive?"
"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked
"I mean it"
You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"
He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.
"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"
You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"
You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.
"Tell me"
"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"
He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.
And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.
"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.
You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.
You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.
He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.
"Seb, you..."
"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.
You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.
Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.
"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”
He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”
He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.
You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language.
Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.
Just like you.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty
#sebastian zöllner#sebastian zöllner x y/n#sebastian zollner x y/n#sebastian zollner x reader#sebastian zöllner x you#sebastian zöllner x reader#sebastian zöllner headcanon#sebastian zollner#daniel brühl#daniel bruhl#daniel bruehl#ich und kaminski#ich und Kaminski fanfiction#tw: depression#tw: self deprecation
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What a Brat Gets
Minors DNI 18+
So in the middle of answering my inbox prompts, I have created this filler masterpiece.
Summary: After a long day, you arrive home to a very horny Sebastian. Seb is a brat and really wants the both of you to take it straight to the bedroom, but you have to teach him a lesson in patience first.
AO3 Link -- WHAT A BRAT GETS – Link to my Fic Request Guide
Fandom: Ich Und Kaminski | Me and Kaminski (2015)
Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI 18+
Relationships: Sebastian Zöllner x fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, sub!Sebastian, Femdom, Sebastian is a little brat, Overstimulation, but he loves it, Begging, prostate stimulation
Word Count: 1896
Warnings: no aftercare because I got lazy
You walked in with the groceries, knowing Sebastian would be home already. As you had predicted, the man in question rushed to greet you as you set things down in the kitchen. No sooner had you placed a few things in the fridge than he already started whining.
“Oh schatz, I’ve been needing you all day,” he pouted, putting on his best puppy dog eyes and draping himself over the counter dramatically in an attempt to get your attention. “Bitte, bitte, hurry up so we can play.” You raised a brow at his demands. He knew not to be pushy, especially when you were already focused on a task.
“Sebastian, I know that I told you to be patient and wait until later,” you said firmly, placing the bread in the pantry. “You know the rules.” Oh, he did. The brat just enjoyed breaking them.
“B-but, I need you now!” he cried pitifully, moving himself between you and the fridge, effectively blocking your path. You nearly growled, restraining yourself from giving him the slap across the cheek he so eagerly wanted.
“Kneel. There. Now,” you said, pointing a jabbing finger at the entrance to the kitchen. Sebastian followed the order without question, positioning himself in the spot that you had pointed to and dropping to his knees. He folded his hands neatly behind his back, smirking up at you like the cheeky bastard he was.
“I want you to keep that naughty mouth of yours shut,” you told him. Now, the brat could sit and watch you quietly as you took your sweet time.
To his credit, Sebastian remained obediently silent as you put away the rest of the groceries and started on your dinner. His eyes followed you as you moved about the kitchen, and you were just waiting for him to cave and start begging more.
Soon though, it must have been too much for him to take, because you watched as he started fidgeting on his knees. He let out a pitiful whimper, which almost succeeded in drawing your attention to him.
“Please, I…I need…” he trailed off into another whine, loud and exaggerated. Oh, so desperate. You turned to gaze at him sharply. A slight flush of arousal had risen to his cheeks, and he blinked those big brown puppy dog eyes up at you.
“Hm, last time I remember, naughty boys don’t deserve anything,” you said, refusing to acknowledge him. “And I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut.” Sebastian smirked, opening his mouth to give some snarky reply, but you interrupted him.
“Come here, now,” you ordered, pointing my finger down to the space next to you. “Bad boys like you need supervision. You can wait here until I’m done making dinner.” Sebastian snapped his mouth shut and started to get up, but you stopped him.
“Nah ah! Crawl,” you said insistently. Sebastian blinked once, then he quickly dropped back onto all fours, obediently crawling to your side. Eagerly, he positioned himself next to your leg, almost close enough to rub up against you. Then, he gave you a cocky smirk, as if he had the upper hand here.
To remind him of his place, you rocked your leg roughly against his crotch, catching the brat by surprise and causing him to let out a strangled noise. You were pleased to find that his cock was already straining against his trousers, no doubt causing him a considerable amount of discomfort. But brats didn’t deserve mercy.
“Aw, schatz,” you cooed in false sympathy. Seb swayed against you and smooshed his face against the side of your leg, letting out a desperate whine. You allowed it, because you knew how worked up he was getting. You reached down to pat his head lightly, a mockery of the intimate touch that he was craving.
“There’s a good boy. Now why don’t you sit there as I finish up our meal?” you teased, turning back to finish working on the pasta you had boiling on the stove. This time, Seb remained obediently silent, determined to show you that he could follow instructions at least some of the time. You could tell that he was really struggling, though, because every so often he would fist his hands in the material of your skirt to remind you of his desire.
Soon enough, you had finished with your task, and you pulled away from him so that you could strain the pasta noodles over the sink. Seb whimpered at the loss as you walked away, but he stayed put and watched you as you moved around the kitchen.
You didn’t bother to plate the food, because you had plans for Sebastian before you both would eat dinner. As if sensing your thoughts, you heard Seb whine needily from behind you. To make it worse, when you turned around to rebuke him, you saw that he was palming himself through his trousers. He was gazing up at you with his best bedroom eyes, clearly determined to hurry up the whole process. Oh, naughty. You leaned your hip against the counter, fixing him with a dangerous gaze.
“You think you can get away with this, Sebastian. But naughty boys deserve punishment. And you have been a very naughty boy.” You pointed a finger in the direction of the bedroom, not coming closer to him to give him the relief he was craving.
“Go sit yourself down in the bedroom,” you ordered. “You know how. I expect this to happen in less than a minute.” Sebastian’s eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet. You quickly grabbed a dish towel and wound it up before swatting his ass with it, the towel making a satisfying snap against his backside. Seb yelped and stopped to turn and give you a dirty smirk, opening his mouth to make a teasing remark.
“Forty-five seconds,” you told him instead, giving him a stern look. Sebastian took the hint and immediately left the kitchen. You could hear his footsteps padding against the floor as he hurried to the bedroom, no doubt stripping his clothes off along the way.
After precisely one minute, you made your way to the bedroom. As usual, Sebastian was splayed out on the bed. He had draped himself dramatically against the pillows like he was some kind of sex god, and the shit-eating grin on his face was absolutely devious. You raised a brow, not enjoying his attitude.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you asked, surprised he wasn’t talking your ear off with snarky remarks yet. His smirk said enough, and he knew it.
You climbed atop the bed. Sebastian grinned, thinking he had gotten exactly what he wanted.
“Ah, you couldn’t resist,” he jeered, but he quickly fell silent as you continued climbing up towards his head. Getting yourself comfortable, you knelt above his face.
“Perfect. Now, hurry up and make that mouth of yours useful. I’m not waiting all day,” you said, acting impatient. If he could be impatient with you, then you could be with him.
Seb just smirked and stuck his head underneath the skirt of your dress. He hooked his thumbs in the lacy fabric of your underwear, but you quickly grabbed his wrists to stop him.
“Nah ah, only good boys get to take this off,” you rebuked. “But you’ve only been naughty today.” You smiled at his pitiful groan of frustration. However, Sebastian was never one to turn down a challenge, and he eagerly went to work.
His mouth was a wonder, even if he was a bit aggressive and impatient. You kept one hand in his hair, giving it slight tugs to guide him, or to pull sharply when he got too impatient with his technique. He knew exactly what to do with his tongue, and he would tug on the lacy underwear in just the right way to provide even more stimulation.
“Sebastian, I don’t have all day,” you said, barely managing to say the words without gasping. You tugged aggressively at his hair, making him groan as he worked against you. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself getting close, and Sebastian’s own needy noises weren’t helping.
“Fuck, Sebastian, your mouth is so good when it’s not talking crap,” you said, grinding down against his face. Sebastian moaned, pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take much longer until you were shuddering your release, your hands tangling in his hair as you let out a groan.
However, you didn’t give him or myself much time to recover. Sebastian was still cleaning you up with little kitten licks when you shifted off of him. His face was a mess, glistening with all of his hard work, and he blinked over at you in dazed confusion.
You reached over into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the lube, spreading the gel liberally over your fingers as you crawled down between his legs. Sebastian immediately realized your intention and spread his knees wider, allowing easier access to his ass. You grinned.
“Such a slut for this, aren’t you?” you teased, already working your finger into him. Sebastian moaned, somehow managing to keep eye contact with you.
“Stop teasing,” he groaned breathlessly. Hm. He was still able to be a brat even when he was on his back with your fingers in his ass. You smirked deviously.
“Oh, what was that? I’m sorry, I don’t speak brat,” you said, shoving two fingers into his ass. Sebastian whined loudly and fisted his hands in the sheets.
“Please, please, c-can I touch myself?” he panted desperately. The poor boy was leaking all over his tummy, his arousal neglected and pressed against his belly. You just shook your head, eyeing him innocently.
“I don’t think so,” you said. “Only good boys get to touch themselves.” Grinning mischievously, you curled your finger against his prostate, hearing him practically wail in overstimulated delight. Tears were forming in his eyes, and you cooed as you continued to press against the sensitive spot.
“Aw, look at you. Earlier you couldn’t wait for me to play with you, but now it’s too much,” you purred, hearing him moan. You still refused to touch his erection, and Sebastian let out another wail as you leaned down to nip at his thigh. He was practically crying now, but he was loving every second of this.
“I can’t tell, Sebastian. Are those crocodile tears, or are they real?” you teased, listening to his pitiful whines as you worked your finger in him. “You can put on a show for everyone else, but not with me.” You finally caved and grasped his erection, giving it a firm stroke. The unholy noise Sebastian made was like music to your ears.
“Sebastian, you’re a brat. But you’re my brat,” you said, placing a gentle kiss on his sweat-slick skin. That was enough to push him over the edge, and suddenly Sebastian was spilling all over your hand. He came hard, nearly sobbing his relief as he let out a cry of pleasure.
You coaxed him through the shuddering aftershocks, watching as his body trembled, and you leaned up to kiss away the tears from his cheeks. Sebastian tangled his hands in your hair, cradling your head gently as he was at a loss for words. You smiled.
“Well, darling…that’s what a brat gets.”
#sebastian zöllner#sebastian zollner#sebastian zollner x reader#sebastian x reader#ich und kaminski#me and kaminski#sebastian zollner fanfic#my fanfic#sebastian zollner x fem!reader#daniel brühl#daniel bruhl fanfiction#ich und kaminski fanfic#sub!sebastian zollner#sub!daniel bruhl#sub!danny
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Might we get some Sebastian Zollner soft smut 👀 maybe even like young him when he was still trying to do his own painting and you were his nude model
The Artist and his Muse [Sebastian Zöllner x his Muse]
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Smut, bit pf fem!dom and a mess of a man
A/N: As usual Sebastian is my weakest spot. The painting here is "In the Tepidarium" by Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema.
You stood there quietly, a sense of expectation taking over you when he opened the door at you. You noticed him from day one and now you had to wrap the situation between the two of you.
"There you are"
He only said letting you inside, a second voice greeting you.
"Hey! Seb is that your girlfriend?"
He waved at his flatmate to shut up as he put an hand on your lower back pushing you to get out of that situation fast.
As you got into his tiny room it was a mess.
The space was small, scattered art books and biographies of great artists everywhere on the floor, on the big inclined drawing desk, one of those like architects had. Then drawings, drawings everywhere from the floor to the walls, from over the bed to every visible corner of the room.
Also mugs, ashtrays filled up everywhere, more mugs used as ashtrays and some leftover food also used as ashtray.
The place would have been grey and dull if it wasn't so chaotic and full of colours.
You also noticed from the big amount of duvets over the bed that the place was cold.
"Get your stuff here"
He said moving his, hopefully clean, clothes off a chair so you could lean your stuff there.
"Thank you for coming" he added briefly and you smiled.
"Thank you for inviting me"
It wasn't like you had much choice, you posed for the art academy, but some extra money was always nice and he daunted you for weeks by now, so in the end you said yes.
"So, let's begin or do you need anything?"
"Some water would be nice" you said as he nodded taking a glass full of dirty water, probably used to get wet the brushes, and going away. You heard him throw it away and briefly wash it before coming back to you with the glass full of water and still half dirty.
You smiled as you took it taking a sip only to be polite putting it back on side.
"Now please" he gestured something, he did a lot of hand gestures and a lot of waving like he was constantly trying to get rid of some smoke surrounding him.
"Get naked" he concluded and you nodded quietly undoing your dress as he looked away to look trough some of all those sketches he had around the room finally showing you a sketch of a standing naked figure, he clearly had some ideas for the background and it was quite classic as structure.
"You can hold this" he said handing you a ball "hold it low, around here" he said pressing the ball over your lower stomach.
"You know ,like a fortune teller" he said before giving you his back to prepare the easel and put on the canvas. You notice he sketched the back of it, so he probably didn't have all of that money. The chances to be paid becoming small by minute, but you were here and he was awkward enough to intimidate you a bit.
You put the ball down and proceeded to undress, you folded your clothing over the chair he freed for you and piled them neatly before picking the ball again.
"ruffle your hair, I need a kind of unkept vibe"
you nodded as you held the ball under your arm and with one hand you ruffled your hair standing nicely in place as you put the ball back to its position.
He stared at you as he leaned on side, he jerked his hand blindly on side to turn on the small radio to some low indie pop channel.
You took your time to observe him as you stared in front of you.
He had longish hair and he tied them up into an half bun, a soft beard. He wore a used t-shirt from the band The Smiths already stained with colour and some blue pants that must be his kind of working from home uniform.
He was barefoot and you noticed he bowed his feet inward as he got pensive, like a way to get extra relaxed.
He was cute, you had to admit it. He was also the first in line most of the time during real life drawing lessons, you could tell he was striving for it but he didn't take well criticism. He would glare and frown at every critic, nag at his bottom lip as he resumed his sketching every time with more passion.
It was always weird to go and see a student on your own. When you were working at the academy it was easy because you had a clear shift and pauses, while when working with artists alone you always had to give in some time.
"Relax your shoulders"
You blinked like his words woke you up and you took a deep breath resuming your position.
"It is a study for a classical image, you know something like Alma Tadema works, only modern" you smiled as you liked that painter and you nodded.
Silence took over as he observed you and disappeared behind the canvas. He was nervous from the moment you agreed to meet him alone. he felt like a creep because he always had a bit of a crush on you and he was upset when for a reason or another you were not the model on certain days. You were everything he liked, every proportion of your body was the ideal he had as an artist.
He sketched your shape as for once he had all the time, no change of position, nobody calling it too difficult or interrupting the moment.
He huffed softly as he got too excited awaiting for this moment he couldn't sleep at night and he even cleaned up his room. Well, you could tell he tried.
He observed every detail of you: from the way you had little moles scattered on your body that he never noticed before to the way your collarbone met deliciously under your neck, how your shoulders drifted up every now and then to unease the tension from the lack of movement. He bit on the inside of your cheek as he sketched the navel of your hips, the delicious curve where so many times he imagined to bury his head into, to be kept safe from the welcoming world of your female form, the origin of the world of erotica.
He frowned as you moved to take a sip of water, he looked at the time, 30 minutes already gone?
He stared down to the canvas as he had to focus, focus focus.
"Seb?? Do you have my lighter??"
A male voice that you guessed belonged to his flatmate shouted and he picked a cigarette
"NO" he shouted louder as the other guy groaned from behind the door, you smirked as you watched him light up his cigarette with a metal lighter and blow some smoke.
He resumed his sketching and you relaxed after some time, your eyes darting away as you barely saw him beside the smoke raising from behind the canvas.
"SEB"
Another shout interrupting but this time it was another flatmate that just bounced the door open. You gulped in surprise as you didn't have anything at hand to cover yourself
"What shit is this? What kind of pervert are you?"
The guy asked as Sebastian thew the pencil at him.
"Fuck you" he shouted "get the fuck out, out!" he jumped off his seat throwing the lit cigarette at him. And that’s why you hated to go to people's houses. Other that don't study art looked at you like that, like something dirt ,like a naked woman.
You sighed as you moved toward the bed covering yourself with one of the countless duvets scattered in the room, it was warm and soft at least. You looked away trying to zone out from the little fight going on between Sebastian and his the other guy.
"Sorry"
He said as he locked the door and pushed the drawer in front of it huffing and panting as he came to you showing with a gesture of his hand your way back to that position.
"No, look it is better if I leave, if you want to do it a private session let's do it at the school" you said as you got enough of that place and his flatmates and you also realised that if he lived in that chaos he probably didn't have the money to book the room and also pay you.
"no, no, no, no" he repeated as he moved after you as you marched to collect your belonging.
"please, they are just idiots" he said as he looked like he was ready to have a panic attack.
"I can see that myself, so that's better to end it now"
"no, no you don't understand"
You chuckled as you looked at him "don't understand what? the power of art?" you inquired as you had heard all sorts of excuses about it.
"I need you"
He said helplessly as your frowned and looked away as he gabbed you by your duvet yanking you back a little.
“I don’t work with other models, I can’t process it, when you’re there I am productive, I work and overwork, and my head is full of ideas, of hopes and more and more ideas, I can see things in perspective, I can feel it, it is like a raging fire and I need you t make it start, just please, just listen to me”
You tried to focus onto what was around you and there's when you noticed that from this new perspective you saw the sketch.
You moved closer to it as you admired how delicate was Sebastian's hand, he made little traits, quick slashes that made your figure look like you had never seen yourself before and you had actually seen a lot of sketches of yourself, so many pointing out unflattering things about your body that you tried to avoid having a look at those sketches.
"it is rough, don't" he said as he still held you by the duvet but he noticed you look up at the canvas.
He had never been this close to you. You smelled like fresh flowers and soft creamy after bath lotion, one of those that say your skin will be like honey and milk. He was sure you tasted like it.
He gulped down nervously as now this was widely unprofessional and he would have given all he had to avoid this moment and yet he daydreamed of it for so long while watching you getting dressed after the lesson.
"I apologise, I swear, I never.. I mean I know this is not the best place but I never felt like I do with you before and I didn’t want to screw it up on the first time”
You didn't really had the time to answer as he clashed his lips over yours grabbing the sides of your face with his hands and it was so desperate like he was about to break down.
You pushed him off as he frowned visibly. He looked so taken aback and saddened now.
You almost chuckled to his face as he looked like a pup that got smacked in the muzzle for biting onto something pricy.
You tugged him by his shirt still wrapped up in that duvet pushing him to sit down.
He opened his mouth but nothing came out of it when you moved to straddle him.
"Stay still"
You said as you moved your hand to his jaw making him close his mouth, he stared at you as you brushed you lips against his, he looked at you intensely before closing his eyes and letting you guide him into that kiss. He let out a soft sound as you showed him what kisses are made for, not that fearful rushed slamming from his mouth to yours.
"You're a goddess" he whispered softly as he leaned for another kiss. He pulled onto that duvet now hungry for more.
"Calm down, don't rush so much" you whispered as he almost didn't know what to do with himself. He was hard already, he was desperate for you that colonised his dreams for so long.
"Damn" he groaned as you lowered your hips against his. He stared at you panting softly as you started grinding against him, the fabric of his joggers was soft but you would have endured some itchy feeling just for the way he trembled and groaned from the friction you gifted. You were sure his boxers must be filled with precum already.
"Can I touch you?"
"Not yet" you whispered. You loved the way he draw you, you saw all the desire behind it and he deserved to enjoy it and not to rush through it.
"Fuck please, i have never" he stopped himself as you looked at you curiously.
"I did everything but that" he said as he tried to avoid to mention how usually girls got so annoyed with his that after a very good cunnilingus they would ask him to leave.
"even better then" you said as he looked so nervous it was adorable. you leaned in and kissed him again as he let you take off his shirt as he stared at you adoringly, the duvet falling off your torso as his eyes fluttered closed letting you guide him in the kiss, he had a lot to learn but he was eager to.
You swiped your tongue over his lips as he parted them and groaned as you joined your lips in a more eager kiss, your tongue trying his as his hips jerked aimlessly against you trying to get some relief, but you moved your hips away not willing to satisfy him too fast. He was used to stare at you, to long for you with his eyes and now he had to persevere in that.
You pulled back from him moving to stand up between his legs letting the duvet fall off your body, now the act taking a whole new meaning for him as you kneeled down taking off his clothing.
You pushed his cock out slowly stroking it, your cold fingers making him hiss as you pumped him slowly, your lips moved across his cock slowly sucking on it and tracing its length with your tongue.
“If you cum I will leave”
The threatening enough to make him groan, he couldn’t take his eyes off from you even if that made him only more horny.
“Fuck” he hissed as you sucked on his needy tip already spread with premium, your tongue twirling over it before taking it whole in your mouth.
Oh the strangled moan he let out.
He held over the edge of the bed like a dear of life, your bobbing head making him lose his mind, you let out soft moans and humming sound that echoed through his whole body.
“Fuck”
He repeated, more helplessly than before if possible, as he closed his eyes, he squeezed them as his thighs trembled eagerly fighting against his natural eager nature.
You pulled back as you stood up and he let out a loud groan.
“Look at you, already a mess”
You smirked as you moved to straddle him, your bare slit tracing his cock like your tongue just did before letting the tip of it inside you, then you pulled back making him cry out.
Once again, his hips jerked up helplessly.
“Please” he groaned “I need it, I need it” he begged as you held him by his jaw with your left hand as your right one guided him inside you.
You stared at him as you did, his eyes widened, his pupils blown as your warmth engulfed him and wrapped him in a dense sense of pleasure.
“Move, move”
Your leaned your head on side
“Please”
You still didn’t wince, he parted his lips not knowing what to say.
“You have been staring at me like that all that time, do you think I didn’t notice?” You whispered as he licked his lips nervously
“You used me for your little dreams didn’t you? I bet you wanked like a loser with your sketches, you were getting hard on the first day only”
He whined like a suffering cat his thighs trembling as he was bouncing on his heels lightly
“Am I wrong?”
He shook his head to you and you smirked
“I have been your fantasy, now, you’re going to be mine”
He moaned as you begun to move, your lips meeting his as he sucked onto your finger before you moved your own hand to rub your clit, he was completely out of his zone. He used to be hungry and straightforward and now he was just an idiot who didn’t know where to place his hands.
“My muse” he groaned as your moves were making him go wild, his hips jerking against yours “my muse”
He repeated it as you pushed him to lay onto his bed, your sensual bouncing over his lap making any sane man become a priest for your religion.
“Fill me Sebastian, please me”
You moaned as you rubbed over your own clit as he squeezed your thighs unable to phantom any move, to focus.
His mouth hanged open, he licked his lips and groaned, your permission making him lose control as he released inside you.
He kissed onto your lips rising to sit up, arms around your waist as he nuzzled helplessly against you.
A whole new world open in front of him.
“Do you want to paint me now?”
He nodded looking up at you, hair stuck up to his sweaty forehead as he looked so lost, pupils blown and erratic breath.
You smiled tenderly to him tracing his face with your fingertips guiding him into another kiss that he won’t forget for a lifetime.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling
#sebastian zöllner x y/n#sebastian zollner smut#sebastian zollner x y/n#sebastian zöllner x reader#sebastian zöllner x you#sebastian zollner x reader#sebastian zöllner headcanon#sebastian zollner#sebastian zöllner#ich und Kaminski fanfiction
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