۶ৎ tears - sabrina carpenter ⊹₊⟡⋆
ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ TW ; smut , minors can interact idc , swearing , nsfw (duh) , kinks mentioned , opinionated and very focused on my own interests / ideas, oral (f!receiving) ♡
F/M — can’t be interpreted as M/M, sorry I’m bad at writing M/M relationships!!
Synopsis — Seymour Krelborn was a dweeb who sucked at sex and dirty talk. But he looked awfully good when fixing things around the shop or assembling a table..
Seymour Krelborn wasn’t hot.
Well, not like Orin Scrivello or the sexy office men uptown who always had sleek hair and fancy suits. He was hot in his own dorky, barely visible way.
It was visible in the way he lifted heavy plants when helping customers, or the way he assembled furniture for the shop, even how awkwardly he posed in press photos.
In shorter terms, the only people who found him hot were you, his pretty coworker Y/N and maybe some old grandma that thought he was adorable and a gentleman at best.
When you had stumbled in to the shop one day, fresh out of high school and looking for a way to make cash, you’d been met with a face full of dweeb. Seymour, you’d read with squinted eyes, it was scribbled on a name tag messily. He had curly hair and thick rimmed glasses. Not to mention the huge nose and fat lips that protruded from his pretty face.
You’d got the job immediately because Seymour felt bad for bumping into you and nearly taking your breath away. You couldn’t count on two hands the amount of times you’d thanked him after that (did the helping him clean up the mess he made after slamming into an unassuming woman count as another thank you??)
But, now you worked with him, getting to admire his dorky stature from across the room as he swept broken pots or got scolded by Mushnik for something he didn’t mean to mess up.
One day, Seymour was cleaning something up, when he heard a slight grunt from the arrangement room. He quietly propped the broom against the wall and walked over to the door of the arrangement room. He popped his head in, seeing you struggle to put together some table Mushnik had recently ordered for extra work space.
Seymour perked up, quietly walking in until he was behind you. You almost fell trying to lift the big top of the table up. Then, felt careful hands on your waist, steadying you, “careful!!” The familiar but dorky voice rang through the small room.
You let Seymour catch you, “thank you, Seymour. I could’ve hit my head on the floor if you weren’t there.” You murmured thankfully as you stood up straight, trying to brush off how his hands on your waist send jolts down to your abdomen.
He scratched the back of his neck, “no worries. I wouldn’t want you to.. to get hurt handling this stuff or anything,” he said, before finishing, “especially not when you could’ve called me to help you.” He added with a shy look on his face.
He grabbed the heavy piece of the table without you even responding and began to put it together, occasionally asking for a screwdriver or a tool he needed. You were in awe. This dorky man really could do it all. He could be a loser, a botanist, a carpenter, a shy mess, and incredibly sexy all in the same ten minutes.
You had to keep yourself from squeezing your legs together to get some sort of friction as you stares at the very sexy show Seymour was obliviously putting on for you, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back the urges.
Seymour grunted as he had to bend a certain way to reach a place on the table, the sound sending another shameful jolt of arousal to your stomach.
After five minutes he finished the table, dusting his hands off and looking utterly exhausted from a bit of simple labor. You looked at him for a moment, watching the way his chunky cheeks flushed and his slight belly heaved. You held back a satisfied sound as you checked him out.
“Seymour.. you must be so tired from all your hard work around here.” You said faux apologetically. He glanced down at his scuffed up clothes, scratching his neck again, which seemed to be a nervous habit, “tired? Err.. yes. I am pretty tired..? Not sleepy tired but physically. Yes.”
You stepped a bit closer, hand going to his arm. His breath seemed to pause for a second, pulse thrumming. You slid your hand up to cup his cheek, “physically?” You asked, titling his head down a little, small, light brown coils falling into his eyes at the motion.
He nodded as best as he could with a hand on his chin. You smiled, “I’m sure I could tire you out a bit more..” Your tone sounded more as if it was a challenge than a statement. It was a challenge you knew you’d win.
He swallowed, “yeah?” He asked shyly.
“Yeah.” You whispered boldly.
You grabbed his hands and pushed them onto your waist again. He sighed, digging them into the soft fabric of your dress. He could barely breathe but he tried his best to stay cool and calm as you started to undo his shirt.
When it was off, his pale, slightly plush body was in the open air, the hair leading down beneath his pants looking tempting. Like a trail you were destined to explore down with your tongue and fingers.
Before you could even undo his belt he was urging you to sit on the newly built table. You made a soft sound of surprise as you sat on it slightly. He sunk down onto his knees, kneeling before you, his hands sliding under your dress.
You held your aroused breaths in, but as his fingers brushed over your soaked cunt through your panties, you breathed out a moan. He’d never done this. Never seen a woman like this before. Never even touched himself to anything that looked as good as this.
His curious fingers went higher, hooking into your panties and sliding them down your pretty legs and off. He nearly whimpered at the sight, “you’re so gorgeous..” he praised in a gentle voice, kissing your calves softly as he looked up at you through his eyelashes behind his big glasses.
You slid your fingers into his hair, “Seymour, please..” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for. Sex? Head? Maybe him to keep teasing you? You didn’t know. You just wanted whatever the hell he could give you.
He responded immediately, sliding your skirt up to your hips, bunching it up with big hands. He looked so irresistibly sexy like this. You bit your lip as he kissed up your leg almost tentatively. The way he looked up at you, you’d think he was innocently petting a puppy, not about to have his face soaked with your cum.
He groaned as he got close to the soaked mess he’d made of you, hands holding your thighs wide open as his head got more between them. He made small whimpering and whining sounds for you to hear as he got the courage to do what he needed to.
His tongue circled your clit, and your hips bucked, “oh, God, Seymour, please.. ff-f..” your head fell back against the wall, back arching towards his long, beautiful tongue that had barely even been on your pussy. He felt a strange hint of satisfaction as he began to suck on your little bundle of nerves, swirling and flicking your click with his tongue.
You cried out, hand gripping his hair. You could feel the cold plastic of his glasses press against you as he continued to suck on your clit. You whined, hips bucking lightly and shamelessly. He hummed quietly, “good?” He asked. You nodded frantically, “yes, Seymour.. so fucking good.. right there.” You babbled.
He kept going, ruthless tongue torturing your poor clit in the best way possible. He took the time to slide his long, pretty middle and ring finger into your slick entrance. They entered easily due to how wet you had already been. He pumped them in and out, pulling cry after whine after moan from your lips.
You ground against his fingers and mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sweet, beautiful overstimulation he was giving you right now. You pushed your head back against the wall, hair gripping his head as tight as she could.
“Fff- fuckkk.. Seymour. Please. Right there-!” You exclaimed, hips pressing into his fingers. He took that as his chance to go faster, fingers pumping quickly as he tried to make you feel as good as humanly possible.
Your breathing got faster and heavier as you neared the edge, your pussy fluttering around his fingers, clit throbbing violently against his tongue. “Shit- shit.. Seymour I’m coming.. oh- oh- please..!” You cried as you slowly but surely reached your climax.
You gripped his hair with a loud cry as you finished, the evidence of your encounter all over his fingers and chin.
He sat up from between your legs with a dazed look on his face, “that was.. amazing, Y/N.”
You scoffed, falling limply against the table, “tell me about it.”
