#your preferences do not equal sexuality

[videogamelover99]

Actually really pissed that discourse around stereotyping and bad writing in media turned into "does this character have X,Y,Z traits? Is this character an admirable human being? Are they the good guy?" instead of promoting actual good writing and what that entails.

It's not about the presence of individual traits! It's about if the minority character is treated as a complex human being with believable motivations and who is looked at with an empathetic eye by the story!

If you personally don't like certain traits to be present in a character that has your identity, you have a right to do that, but it's not criticism, it's your opinion. You know what your dislike doesn't do? Make that character a stereotype! Because a stereotype isn't a character with traits commonly assigned to them, it's a character who isn't written as a fully fleshed human being save for those traits. The character isn't treated with dignity by the author because the author does not give them a character.

If they are fully fleshed out and complex with understandable motivations then? They aren't a stereotype. Because people like that exist in real life, and you viewing them as a stereotype says more about you than it does about them.

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

[preeningpisces]

Nanami NSFW Headcanons

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate/write something about any of these

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby fem!reader

Enjoy! 💙

☆ Starting controversial agaaaain, but like I said with Toji, I just don’t see him being a hard dom either. This man will never call you a whore, would be offended if you requested he call you a bitch or cumdump—I think he’d be okay with slut, but he wouldn’t say that unless you ask

☆ Very firm about his boundaries, he won’t do anything he doesn’t feel comfortable doing & you won’t be able to change his mind. Very respectful of yours & will never push them

☆ Lowkey loves to be praised & doted on. His ears turn very pink when you tell him how good he’s making you feel, or how big his cock is, or if you tell him his voice is sexy

☆ The fact you find his voice sexy confuses him—he thinks it’s too monotone, and he isn’t exactly the smoothest guy out there with his words. He’s not very talkative in general, and that extends to sex as well. Once you express how much it turns you on, however, he will dirty talk more, and more often as he builds confidence doing it (dirty talk is hard you guys, be patient with him!!!)

☆ Nanami is stiff, and awkward when your sexual relationship begins. He doesn’t have a ton of experience, and his stoic nature can make moments of passion challenging for him. If you’re more experienced, you’ll probably take the lead, and it’s something he’s very thankful for.

☆ If you’re less or equally experienced, he’ll take the lead. He’ll be honest about his own lack of experience, and the two of you will explore uncharted territory together—so sweet

☆ Even during the early stages when he’s awkward his intensity, observant nature, generosity, and thoroughness have an allure of their own

☆ He definitely warms up with time though, so don’t fret. Sex has never been at the forefront of his mind, so he discovers his kinks/preferences through your relationship

☆ As I said before, Nanami is a very generous lover; making you feel good makes him feel good. He’s the type that can come from eating you out, which is especially hot if he’s dressed in those formal clothes of his

☆ He loves toys, uses a vibrator on you almost everytime you have sex. Nanami is a very practical person; the vibrator makes you feel so good, and allows him to put more focus on other ways of pleasing you—why wouldn’t he use it? The notion that some men hate them bc they threaten their egos bewilders him

☆ Your vibrators are basically never dead because Nanami is on TOP of those things; he’s gotta make sure it’s ready for whenever the mood strikes you guys. The days you’re home and he’s at work you’ll occasionally get a ‘is the vibrator on the charger?’ text, reminding you like a parent would their kid about the chicken they’re supposed to thaw LMFAO

☆ Not a tease at all. If you say please he’s gonna do it!! If you tell him you want to be teased in the bedroom he’ll try his best but it doesn’t take much before he relents :/

☆ Breeding kink yes, but I just KNOW he’s a vasectomy man (unless yall decide to pop some kiddos out). He’s just too responsible to be risky, & doesn't want his partner to feel obliged to take on the responsibility of birth control all alone. Perfect man, truly

☆ Nanami loves some good ol’ fashioned missionary—who doesn’t? But he also really enjoys positions where he can just hold you close, and focus on the intimacy of the moment and the physical sensations rather than the visuals. Prone bone, and cuddlefucking are prime examples; when he rests his head in your neck, his free hand squeezing all your softness, he’s in heaven

☆ Nylons, pantyhose, stockings: wear them if you want to get destroyed. If you got thigh-highs that pinch your leg? Hoooooo boy. He’s not typically a biter, but the squishy parts hanging over the stocking will be gnawed on. Just accept they’ll be bruised, you’ll be ok

☆Nanami is very appreciative of lingerie, and does not tear it off, he’ll have you keep them on the whole time

☆ Huuuuge sucker for scents. Perfume, soap, laundry detergent—he appreciates good smells, and once he starts associating certain smells with you they get him going

[animehideout]

So you did the JJK guys turn ons. What about their turn offs?

JJK Men Turn-Offs

a/n: Thank you anon for this request, I hope you like it ❤️

Ps: If you don't see your request posted yet it's because I'm still working on them, thank you for your understanding my loves 🫶🏻✨

Characters: Gojo Satoru / Ryomen Sukuna/ Toji Fushiguro/ Nanami Kento/ Geto Suguru/ Choso Kamo / Ino Takuma.

Check out JJK Men Turn-ons here

Gojo Satoru: Poor Hygiene.

I see Gojo as someone who gives attention to details, to himself, his partner and in general.

He's someone that values aesthetics.

He's into self-care and likes to spend money on expensive body lotions, perfumes, nice and elegant clothes.

So poor hygiene is an immediate red flag for him, as it contradicts his preferences for cleanliness and order.

Satoru takes pride in his appearance and expects the same from people around him especially his partner.

So a partner lacking efforts in matching his level of cleanliness and appearance is a turn off for him especially with the importance he places on the way he presents himself.

Satoru believes that taking care of oneself is a form of respect for others, so for him, lack of hygiene is considered as lack consideration.

Poor hygiene disappoints him a lot and would definitely distance himself.

Ryomen Sukuna: Inability to satisfy his sexual desires.

Driven by his desires and lust, once his partner screws up, it's over.

He has a dominant and assertive nature, wanting everything to go as he wishes.

He has high expectations and puts big emphasis on his sex life.

So his partner's / love interest's inability to satisfy his desires or refuse to do some wild crazy shit that he wants, would frustrate him and make him angry.

Sukuna won't disappoint his partner, he's literally the best at sexually pleasing them, so it's crucial that he's equally pleased and satisfied.

If his partner fails to fulfill his needs then it might trigger his impatience, making him less tolerant.

He places big importance on mutual enjoyment, if he senses any imbalance, then he's end the relationship without hesitation.

Toji Fushiguro: Being A Drama Queen.

Toji is a straightforward and rational man.

He values smartness and efficiency, so making excessive drama or overreactions is a major turn-off for him.

He prefers logical thinking and conflicts solving over unnecessary emotional displays .

Toji is a prudent man and sees easily through dramatic actions or words any attempted manipulation from his partner.

He prefers a partner who can handle their emotions maturely and independently without causing a fuss.

Constant drama might make him feel bored or like he's dealing with a child and not a grown up adult.

For him exaggerated reactions, nagging are a waste of time, a headache stimulator and get on his nerves.

He prefers a chill, simple and laid back partner.

Would definitely distance himself without further engaging in the the relationship/ situationship.

Would feel second hand embarrassed if his partner makes a scene.

Nanami Kento: Arrogance.

There's a difference between being self-confident and being arrogant.

The first one is a turn-on for Nanami, the second one is an immediate turn-off.

That line that separates them "attitude" makes a huge shift in the way he perceive his partner.

He finds arrogance off-putting.

He prefers a partner who is grounded and modest; traits that align with his own reserved nature.

Being an introverted man, Nanami tends to communicate in a calm and polite manner, with an arrogant partner the balance of his communication style would be disrupted.

An arrogant partner would talk down to him, which is very demeaning.

Politeness and mutual respect are necessary for Nanami, and arrogance can come across as dismissive, he finds that unappealing.

Nanami wants a genuine connection with his partner, where both of them are sincere, caring and responsible.

And arrogance brings with it selfishness and this doesn't align with how he pictures a stable, romantic relationship with a calm and harmonious environment.

Geto Suguru: Lack Of Ambitions And Negativity.

For a man with very big dreams, lack of ambitions is pathetic.

He wants a partner to push him forward and not bring him down with their negativity.

Geto believes in constant striving for improvement and excellence, so having a partner with no dreams would definitely get into his way and waste his time.

He pities people who are too basic and too simple and sees them as weak and burden in earth.

For him only people who are willing to make an impact on society are worth living but the purposeless ones are just a waste of oxygen.

The lack of purpose means lack of personality for him, it would make him instantly disconnected and disgusted no matter how much he would be physically attracted to that person.

Geto envisions a romantic relationship as a collaboration towards achieving mutual common goals.

So lack of ambitions and negativity would hinder the formation of thus goal-oriented relationship.

If a person isn't willing to change, push boundaries and challenge themselves, then Suguru wouldn't even bother to spend another second with them.

Choso Kamo: Talking To Other Guys.

Choso is a loyal man with a protective nature.

He prefers quality over quantity, having a loyal partner would mean the whole world to him.

A partner who engages in unnecessary or flirty conversations with other man ( even at the beginning of the relationship) would definitely make him really sad and turn him off at the spot.

Choso appreciates a reserved partner who only has eyes on him, so a gf/bf who likes to be the center of attention of other guys and constantly talk with them would make him break up with them to protect his heart and peace.

Choso wants undivided attention, he is willing to give the world to his partner, cut off all unnecessary connections if his partner feels jealous or uncomfortable and he wants the same.

Trust is crucial for Choso, and once his partner breaks that trust then it's over.

Ino Takuma: Dry Replies.

Ino is a man who thrives on his partner's affection and attention.

So dry replies would definitely make him sad and question hus partner's feelings towards him.

Ino likes to engage in lively conversations that flow effortlessly, from sharing how was his day to his plans for tomorrow.

So being constantly faced with replies that lack enthusiasm or effort are huge turn-off for him.

He puts too much effort in the relationship so he expects the same from his partner.

Ino appreciates a partner who expresses themselves openly, and also good listener who is willing to comfort him and tell him thay everything is gonna be alright.

And receiving cold replies would disappoint him and push him away, making him think that his partner is careless about him.

Also when sharing memes. Humor is important to Ino, so dry and dull answers would make him feel embarrassed and awkward.

He cares too much, he deserves someone who would give him the attention and care he needs.

So distancing himself from a dry partner would save him his energy and save him from overthinking.

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

[wttcsms]

diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?” 

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features. 

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year. 

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age. 

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence. 

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with! 

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes. 

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. 

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”. 

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan. 

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.” 

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either. 

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!” 

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession. 

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud? 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now. 

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you, 

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty. 

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence. 

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.” 

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience. 

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is. 

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry. 

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze. 

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra. 

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him. 

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back. 

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes. 

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway. 

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you. 

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway. 

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens. 

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.” 

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.” 

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even. 

“Y-you’re a virgin?” 

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole. 

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.” 

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity. 

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver. 

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now. 

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.” 

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again. 

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak. 

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain. 

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession. 

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down. 

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around. 

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only. 

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed… 

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

[tomorrcwz]

✰ TO BUILD A HOME, L. HAMILTON

[ preview ] Lewis has grown softer, more domestic and slighty more protective of you since knowing you're having a baby, and you're absolutely loving it whenever you shower together or travel to races.

[ tw ] pregnant female reader, showering together (but not sexual!!)

[ req ] hi can I request for lewis. Where y/n is pregnant and him being so protective and domestic and soft with her. No smut if possible just fluff. You may add some angst if u want thank youu

. previous | masterlist .

home | the domestic side of him

The day starts off fairly normal as Lewis gets up before you, gently kissing your forehead that causes you to shuffle closer into his touch, and tries to move Roscoe, who's tangled between your arms, to go out for a quick morning jog. Through the dog has other plans, lowly growling at him, a sign that he much rather spend time in your presence — you have always shared a close bond but since falling pregnant, rosc wouldn't leave your side, even before Lewis or you knew of the baby. It's endearing to your partner, seeing you with his first child, all cozy in the family bed.

So Lewis decides to go on a jog alone which doesn't take him more than half an hour. He much prefers more being home with you and he has undertake the task of making you breakfast and shower your hair, something he has never realised could be so romantic and domestic. There was a time you both showered together but it was after having sex or to have a quickie, however it was never with the pure intention of taking a shower to get clean and fresh to start the day. But he loves the change, and he likes to take care of your hair, be it massaging your scalp, de-tangeling or whatsoever. And he's quite serious about styling your hair to whichever style you prefer.

In fact he hopes to get very good at it to do his child hair's, through you say he's already unbelievable fantastic with his fingers and claim that he has the eyes for it. You'll giggle and exclaim happily of his hidden talent, and talk on and on about how he should be a hair stylist after ending his racing career. His response is without a doubt everytime the same. "Get your facts straight, pretty girl, I'll only do your and our children's hair", to which you'll react with a shy smile and an i love you. You truly mean those words. There's no one you've ever met in your life that has captured your heart like him, takes your breath away like him, touches you like him and loves you like him. He's passionate about life and your romance, never backing down when your relationship hits a rough place, is strong willed and loves deeply. Loyalty, trust and communication are the big three in your love bond, and you push each other every day to the best version, to feel confident and appreciated.

The man besides you is your equal and you're his, without a shadow of a doubt.

You can confidently speak of each other as your home because home is not a place but a person and Lewis is your person and father of your unborn child. Its the truest form of love and peace, comforting and warm, healthy and free. With him, there's no pressure, he stands throughout every problem on your path, let it be work or small silly things like a broken flower pot — he'll offer his companionship, idea and listens, doesn't matter if he actually has the time to do so with racing and media stuff going on, he makes the time.

Its funny actually which lengths you go for another without being married — something that irritates your father greatly as he believes you have to put a ring on the finger when you love someone this way. He can't understand how it's working for you and Lewis but he reluctantly respects it. Has to, he has no other choice because Lewis and you are endgame as Charles, your man's future teammate, mumbles whenever he's joining you for lunch or a small getaway. The monegasque has a soft spot in your heart.

Returning home, Lewis is still catching his breath as he steps up the stairs towards your bedroom. You sit there, Roscoe's head on your thight as you turn a page over your newest reading over, eyebrows knitted together in wonder of what's going to happen to the protagonist. A certain calmness flots the room, the lightness of the sun dips you in a glow and Lewis thinks you look like a mystical goddess. He really broke every possible imagination and desire with you, his darling pretty girl.

"Good morning, pretty girl, slept well?", he asks, moving forward to give you a kiss on the lips. You're welcoming it, hands looping around his sweaty shoulders as he sits down next to you, tilting your head to the side to get better access. "Slept very well but missed waking up next to you", you pout after breaking the kiss, "want to shower together, handsome?"

"Thought you'll never ask", he laughs,"up you go." He stretches his hand for you to grab, helping you sit up and then stand on your feet. Then, unexpectedly, one of his bulky arms wrap around your middle and the other under the back of the knees, manhandling you in his arms. You squeek like a little girl but you recover fastly, mushing your face between the space of where his shoulders meet the neck, and nip on the skin playfully. Lewis' grip only tighten, smacking a kiss on the crown of your hair.

In the bathroom, he puts you down with ease, watching you carefully while doing so. "Everything's fine baby, thank you for your service", you mutter sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifted. Wordlessly, he takes the hem of his your t-shirt, waiting for your consent to pull it over your head. It makes your heart flutter — after all this time Lewis is still a gentleman. "Please do it", you consent, arms in the air. He does and he also removes your shorts and underwear before getting nude aswell and taking your hand in his to guide you to the shower.

Said shower is large and has a small seating space, something Lewis insisted on adding when you announced your pregnancy. It's an incredibly good investment and lifts up the shower space.

Lewis takes the showerhead and turns on the water, waiting for it to hit the temperature you like (and doesn't burn him) before rinsing his body hastily and wets your body and roots of your hair. After that he puts the showerhead into the intended holder in a way it waters your head and stands right in front of you, stomachs touching. You look him in the eyes, leaning in. "Give me a kiss", you plea, lips puckering for his to meet yours.

"Only because you asked so nicely", he mumbles, breath fawning over your face, causing heat to creep up your cheeks. Without asking, Lewis takes the shampoo bottle out of your hand. "Let me do it", he says softly, gazing concentrated on the blop of clear shampoo in his hands, which he then rubs in his hands, causing it to bubble.

You peek his cheek, grabbing his body shampoo and massage it into his skin, his broad shoulders first and move on to the abs, only stopping when Lewis fingers work the product in circular movement into your hair.

"Can't wait for breakfast", you sheepishly declare as your stomach rumbles loudly, breaking of the quiet humming you have started since his hair are in your hair. "What's on the menu today, Lew?"

"I made blueberry muffins yesterday—"

"With chocolate on top?", you interrupt him, excitement glistening in your eyes as you drown in his rich brown ones.

"Yes, knew you'd want them like that."

Smile lines draw in the corner of his eyes, and dimples show, and maybe, just maybe, you fall in love with the man in front of you a little bit more — if that is even possible.

"Oh I love you", you hum, feeling the water spray on your head to wash the shampoo away. After, Lewis applies conditioner to the ends of the hair.

"I love you", he sincerely answers, and he truly means it, you can see it in his eyes and body language aswell as the feeling — the whole vibe of the room screams of love. You can't explain it but it is the truth. "And the little one", Lewis continues, hands leaving your scalp as he bends down to kiss your bump, taking away your breath with how loving he is.

Back in 2008 when you first met, Lewis wasn't delicate and even in the beginning of your relationship it lacked, resulting in you feeling not as appreciated as you should've been — the man had been too focused on his job and was wild in a sense that sometimes made you slightly uncomfortable. You in return couldn't communicate openly, scared he'd break your heart in thousand pieces, and let him get his ways. It took you a while for opening up, growing together and fall in love even more. But all the pain and stress paid off, now you can't imagine not walking those milestones of growth hand in hand.

"Might be a house-husband after 2026 and make you stay at home too. We could have more children if you want, and enjoy retirement together with our babies."

Its truly a dream, however you know that this is not going to be your future in a few years yet.

Shaking your head to the side, you signal him your answer. "No baby, you'll race your car to the top and gift our baby the eight championship trophy, alright? You can't just stop your passion, I won't allow it", you firmly share before taking on a much calmer tone . "But I'd like to not work for a while, take care of the babe and visit you whenever we're ready."

"I don't even know if I want to keep racing but you can't definitely stay home and maybe write that book you always wanted to."

"You have enough time to decide, don't pressure yourself, okay?", you hush, relaxing as he untangles the knots in your hair.

A low sigh vibrates in his chest. "Okay."

"How do you even know I write on a book?"

Lewis stiffles a snicker. "I'm your man, of course I know when you're up to something and you have said to the Lilys that you're working on a novel based on formula one. Hope it is inspired by me, pretty girl."

"And if it's inspired by the rising star Ollie Bearman?", you tease, making him laugh.

"Both of us know that the books about me or the technical stuff", he responds in confidence. "Have to say, you really do love that kid, huh?"

"He's a great kid, and so young", you stretch the 'o' of so long, "really want to pinch his cheeks whenever I see him."

"He is and you're such a mum to him."

"Ollie says I'm his grid mum which makes you his grid dad. Ain't that cute?", you tell him, closing your eyes as he rinses the conditioner off and puts body gel all over your body.

Your partner doesn't reply but you know how much he likes the brit, going as far as giving him tips for his f2 season. To you it's another confirmation that he's capable of having children.

Australia | the protective side of him

After ranting on and on of how you are still allowed to travel by plane, Lewis gave finally, even though he was visibly not alright with it, but he shut his mouth to hinder upsetting you. The pregnancy demands enough of you already and he doesn't want to be the person, who's taking away the fun. Also he's selfish, wants to have you and your unborn child by his side as long as possible.

But in his mind roams the thought of if you would've been better off in England with your families around to keep you company as he races against time, trying to be home as much as his job let him. He despites the many races on the calender that keep him away from his family that consists of you, his lovely girlfriend, the baby inside you and his first child Roscoe. Truly devastating.

Currently you gather everything you need for the day, stuffing a pack of tissues, lip balm and whatnot in your colourful totebag, Lewis had bought you in Mexico last year because he thought it was fitting and now you carried it everywhere you could. Somehow the colours blend quiet nicely with your outfit that considers of a fan made vintage styled shirt with his name, racing number and face on, and a pair of black pants. Between the space of your collarbone rests a necklace with the number 44, something quite possessive — revisiting the memory, Lewis can't help but bite his lips.

Two days before taking you to your first ever red carpet, the fia gala, a rather stupid man had flirted with you as you were waiting for Lewis to finish up business. You had worn a lovely dress, causing his eyes to follow your ever movement as you separated from him to get a drink (he wanted to rip that dress off you later on, too) and then that man came onto you, smirk etched on his face, trying to lure you in a conversation. In that moment Lewis felt incredible jealous and promised himself to mark you somehow — to which you unknowingly agreed as he gifted you a necklace with his number on it. To you the gesture was very lovely, a promise of being each others keeper, but to Lewis the necklace bought him satisfaction and calmed his nerves.

"Don't look at me like that, Lew", you laugh, catching his gaze in the mirror as you put on your earrings.

"Don't know what you mean, pretty girl", he husks, eyes fixed on your butt. Those pants show your curves off and if it wasn't for the time pressure, he'd spend the day in bed, loving you.

"You're a horny bastard", you mutter, catching him stare. "My ass looks great it them pants, no?"

"Sure thing", he mumbles, crossing the room to give you a hug from behind, chest pressing against your back, making you all mushy. He gently lifts your bump and you hum happily. It feels unbelievable good.

"You should do this everyday, baby."

A sigh tumbles in your boyfriend's throat as he sees the time of the clock — you're already behind schedule. "I should. 'M sorry to break it to you but we have to go now, pretty girl."

You moan. "Don't want to, this is so much better."

"I know", is all Lewis says, letting go of your bump before grabbing your chin to face him. You closed your eyes when his lips crash down on yours, the scent of his perfume filling your nostrils. The scent isn't too strong and is fairly new because you can't stomach the old one. "Love this perfume so much", you share after breaking the kiss, foreheads touching.

"Better be, you've chosen it, pretty girl. Let's go, hm?"

"Okay if you insist."

Arriving at the paddock, you're quick to lose Lewis to his engineer for a quick snack, you know the paddock club makes. The walking takes you just under ten minutes, but it's long enough to make you slightly sleepy again, a regular occurrence that started back in the early stages of working full time. The pregnancy only adding a bit to it.

As you stand waiting in line, you strike up a conversation with vcarbs reserve driver liam lawson, a funny guy, and let him vlog your conversation with the promise of him paying for your snack. The talk is all silly, your chest heaving strongly as he cracks another joke.

Though the vibe breaks when a man rushes besides you, shoulder bumbing against yours forcefully and sending your body stumbling into the driver, who's quick reflexes save you from a nasty fall.

Regulating your breath and removing your hand from Liam's arm, your anger comes through. "What a fucking wanker, next time I'll see him he'll fly straight in those bushes." You point to your left where a row of yellow blooming bushes sit in pots.

Liam's booming laugh attracts the attention of a few guests but neither of you care. It takes him a minute or two to stop, however the amusement is still painted on his face.

"Understandbly, call me if it happens, yeah?", he says, moving up to order himself a coffee and your snack. "Can I put this in my vlog?"

"Yes why not", you shrug, sole focus on the vegan treat in your hands.

"Let's go back to Mercedes, y/n, don't want Lewis to rip off my balls if he gets to know this situation."

You agree and guide him to your man's garage, greeting the buzzing flow of employees and fans alike. A smile adores you face as you make your way to Lewis, grasping Liam's arm in the process, causing some people to raise an eyebrow and the kiwi to blush slightly under their stares.

Sliding under Lewis arm to shuffle closely to him, he wordlessly accepts, listening to Bono's rant. He doesn't even notice the blonde kid next to you, way to absorbed into Bono's talk.

Eventually he does greet you, kissing you till a tiny moan escapes your mouth, and looks away from you, eyes falling on the Kiwi, who's side is pressed to yours — right besides him isn't any space left, just the wall and he guesses you must have pushed him into the space. It doesn't make him less dominating, arm pressing you further into his side to create more space between them, and he grabs the necklace to correct the way it lays, so the 44 can catch the attention if anyone is stupid enough to look at your tits in his presence.

The younger man doesn't react to his attics, but he's respectfully keeping his distance.

"Hey man, all good?", greets Lewis, handshake included.

"Nah yeah, fine."

Shallowing your bite of the treat, you bring up his vlogging. "And then he promised to buy me this in turn for vlogging our conversation. Maybe I should do that too, your fans would love it, Lew", you gush.

"We could, but we shouldn't. Want to keep you all for myself, pretty girl of mine", he mutters into your ear, hot breath fawning over the sensitive skin, "won't share what's mine."

Heat creeps up your neck and you're glad your hair isn't styled up today.

"You silly man", you giggle like a school girl, loving how he calls you his.

"I don't want to interrupt you by whatever you have going on but I wanted to tell you Lewis, that some cunt, shouldered her. Nothing happened, I catched her, but you should know", Liam rants, waiting for the older man's reaction while your wide eyes hang on your man's face, which morphs into a harden expression.

"Thanks Liam for telling", he grinds his teeth," because this one", he sends you a pointed look, "wouldn't have told me."

Swallowing, the kiwi presses a no worries mate and steps away, probably going back to his garage. Meanwhile you wait for Lewis' lecture and he doesn't disappoint. "You should've called, y/n, how often do I have to tell you that? If something happens, you instantly call me and I'll answer."

Before he can get really into it, you speak up. "Liam was there, wasn't he? He helped me and I'm not hurt, see?" You move your arms to let him inspect it. There's no sign of bruising.

"He was but next time you'll call, okay? I don't care if anyone is there to help you, you will call me, okay?", he voices his demand. "Don't want anything to happen to neither of you."

"Fine", you huff, face mushing into his muscular chest.

"And don't bring any boys here."

"Not fine", you groan, "he's like a younger brother. Fucking annoying but can't wait to send gifts for the baby and us."

Lewis stays silent, angling his body to hug you fully, and peeking your head.

The loudness of the race weekend suddenly quietness and all he hears is your relaxed breathing, that comforts him like nothing else can.

[incognitopolls]

*For the purposes of this poll, "attracted to all genders equally" includes not being attracted to ANY genders.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

A Spark To Ignite (Bodyguard!141 x Famous!Reader Preferences) Mild NSFW

Summary: You see each other every day. He works to keep you protected - a perk of your job and his. Occasionally feeling moments of passion and promises of something more between you two are only normal, right?

AN: I've got another bodyguard!AU for the 141 that's more angst based. I'll post that later. I've also got a Price x Escort!Reader in the works plus the end of "Star-crossed in the Crosshairs". Let me know if you have any requests/anything you'd rather see first <3

Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only, allusions to sexual tension/arousal, second person, no use of Y/N

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Another notification of being tagged in the same paparazzi image hit your notification inbox, yet you still opened it and shared a giddy grin at the Instagram feed.

You hadn’t been fussed about going running; it was the company rather than the activity that attracted you. But one thing you were certain about the sport was that no one ever looked flattering whilst doing it.

Yet there he was, your Kyle, looking like a model for Sports Direct. He was snapped midstride, his biceps practically rippling in the glow of the morning sun. There was even a hint of his lean washboard torso with the flap of his t-shirt’s raised coyly.

However, his dimpled smile aimed was the main focus of the headline – mainly because it was aimed at you and your equally elated expression. You blamed the euphoria of exercised endorphins but the way the photo was framed (plus the gaudy text declaring it so) made it seem as if you and Kyle were a true couple in love. It looked incredibly staged. Kyle was an “unknown” though so most budding theorists did not support any claims of it being a publicity stunt. Just two lovers out on a jaunty little run together.

You saved then added the photo to the folder of photos that captured you out with your bodyguard and the headlines that (sadly) misidentified him as your new boyfriend.

“Hey Kyle!”

Blending some fruits. His duties did not include head chef but you had long since allowed him access to your kitchen, even storing some of his favourites around the cupboards and fridge in case he fancied a snack.

Your phone was thrust up into his eyeline, you beaming behind it, “Another Pulitzer.”

Abandoning his smoothie temporarily, Kyle cupped his hand around yours to steady your swaying phone.

“They need to up their standards. Taking you for a jog is hardly a date you deserve,” He commented.

“Ooo, do tell: what do I deserve?”

“Well,” Kyle began pouring the smoothie into a glass, “I could go classic, take you to out on the town to a special place only I know about.”

You leaned onto your    elbows, chin resting in your palms, cheeks creased in a cheeky smile. “Mm-hmm.”

“Wine you, dine you, treat you like a deity,” Kyle said as if he was listing off menial tasks on his day to day whilst collecting another glass for the remaining smoothie. “Take you back to mine if you fancied it, another drink whilst we talk the night away and time passing without us noticing.” Graciously, he slid the other one across the countertop, and your fingers locked against his warm ones wrapped against the cool glass. “Then work up a sweat in a whole other way.”

Blinking away the glaze that had coated your eyes, you restrained the urge to gulp back your desire. A fresh breath in your lungs recovered you quickly and you managed to conjure a teasing quip amidst the fog that had settled over your thoughts.

“Think you could keep up with me?” You said before sipping the smoothie.

The sweetness of it countered Kyle’s smirking reply: “You and I both know I can more than handle you.”

“Better train harder then,” You said, proud of yourself for not stumbling over your playful banter, “I’m a catch, so you better be fast enough.”

“Jog, same time tomorrow?”

“Sure.” And, not missing in the reflection of the oven door how Kyle – for a split second – looked you up and down, you did your best not to collapse or squeal during your return to the sitting room.

-----------

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You leant against the ropes of the new boxing ring with a panting chest and aching legs. Jellied bones dared to let you collapse to the ground but at least, since your self-defence training had begun, you were lasting the full session rather than just after the warm-up.

“I think we’re done for today! Did good, held your own.” Johnny gave you a hearty slap on your back that almost ricocheted you off the ropes. “I’ve still got a few reps to get in.” He leapt out the ring and swigged from his water bottle, tossing you your own.

“Show-off!” You called out after him, though all in good fun, as you caught your bottle and your breath.

Technically, since you didn’t have anything else to do, you could get a head-start on getting cleaned up. You were in the privacy of your own gym, added at your request so that Johnny could train you better and you could do so without being ogled or papped.

Quite hypocritical it was then, that you lingered in the ring to watch Johnny stack up his weights on either side of the bar (the ones you purchased as part of his perks of working for you).

Your day-job came in handy with pretending to do some cooldown stretches, sipping from and pouring your water bottle over yourself. Well, you were actually doing those things but acting as if they were the only things that occupied your thoughts was the main role you were playing. From the corner of your eye, you observed Johnny squatted with a stack of weights lining each shoulder. God, those arms were practically popping, his thighs bulging with the effort of remaining planted on the floor and folding up and down beneath the hefty set. Mesmerising, you forgot to keep up your pretence by the second load of reps.

It left your lips before you could reconsider for the tenth time: “Bet you couldn’t lift me.”

Soap paused in a deep squat and looked up through his lashes at you. Meeting his steely blue gaze was easier than anticipated but maintaining it as he righted himself and rested the weights back on the rack with a restrained grunt was the difficult part.

At first, you thought maybe his silence was his answer. Then Johnny knelt down and assumed the plank position.

“Get on,” He said, loud and clear.

You still doubted him, “Seriously?”

“You made the bet. Now lie in it.”

As elegantly as possible, you dismounted the ring before making your way over to his side. He showed no signs of tiredness during your journey, nor did he when you balanced yourself across his broad back.

“Ok, ready,” You said, your voice close to wobbling.

And so it began. Up and down, you could feel how his body sustained you through both your and his workout gear. His back muscles rippled beneath you and his elbows kissed yours each time he lowered you both to the floor. Out of nowhere, you began giggling and you couldn’t figure out how to put a stop to it. Giddiness flooded your entire system until you were beyond drunk.

Suddenly, your world tilted and you rolled off onto the mat but Johnny refused you any respite, flipping you over onto your back again, like a pancake.

“I win,” He panted, “What’s my prize?”

Still giggling, you felt your cheeks burning at the sight of him hovering over you, his skin glowing, his chest panting. His unrelenting stare had you locked beneath him, barred between his trunk-like arms. If this was your prison, you’d commit any offence to stay in there. God you were so close you could kiss him-

Nope.

“You finish your workout early so you can have a nice hot shower sooner?” You said, covering your mouth to cough and clear your airways of whatever shit you breathed in to make you even consider making out with your bodyguard. You must’ve looked so daft; you blamed the endorphins. Then you blamed Johnny completely as he started to laugh down at you, sending your thighs quaking as he crawled off you and ordered you to get cleaned up – that he’d be in shortly after as a hint to not use all the hot water. As you drifted back to the bathroom, you tried not to think about him in the shower or how you wanted to offer to scrub him down.

-----------

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Say the word and I’ll have him removed.”

For a man so stoic and intimidating, Simon sure made you smile a lot. You needed it after that… “interesting” conversation with one of the party’s guests – someone who you knew to be a detractor behind your back.

“It’s fine, really,” You insisted with a winning smile.

Casting a glance over your shoulder where your shadow dutifully remained was a reward you would never be exhausted of. Simon looked so good in his tux. Plus he’d humoured you and worn the silk black mask rather than his usual. You were brimming with privilege at seeing his hair styled beyond the flattened fuzz it would take on after being beneath the balaclava for twenty hours at a time. Even more so, you got to see his tattoos pairing nicely with them like a good bottle of wine.

You could hear the smirk hiding beneath his mask. His veined hands clasped firmly in front of him as he leant close, just his mask separating his lips and your ear.

“We could make a break for it. Ditch these twats. Get a drive-thru.”

He knew you never would agree to it; this gala meant a lot to you. Such a tempting offer though, in such a tempting voice too. His rough tone did nothing but delight you when you heard it. Turning to look at him, you took note of the two mere inches between your face and his.

He continued, “You’ve shown your face long enough.”

“Getting jealous of them stealing my attention?” You asked provocatively.

Simon let out a low laugh, shaking his head fondly with just a hint of patronising, “That’s funny, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of people who are dying to still talk to me.” You gestured with the glass he’d gotten (and checked for any malicious interference) for you around at the room, those who would never have the privilege of being a part of your and Simon’s bubble.

“Just as long as you and everyone else knows that I’m the one who takes you home.”

The implications of that statement swelled in your chest, nestling into your heart like a cat in a warm patch of sunlight. Intently, he looked at your face for your reaction. That was the thing with Simon: always observing, recording every flicker, every possibility in that incredible mind of his. You were certain he could see into your soul with those all-seeing eyes. He kept you safe, kept you on your toes, kept you happy.

But the bubble burst before you could hit back and you abruptly checked yourself back into work mode. The person who’d spoken loud enough to bring you back down to Earth didn’t seem to notice your slip up. You, however, were more than acutely aware of Simon’s lingering presence at your side. So close the hairs on your arm extended on goosebumps, coaxing and begging to touch him.

As you were once again left alone, you found yourself stifled by your need to be nearer to Simon and quickly decided the alcohol was to blame. “I need the bathroom.”

“This way.” His hand grazing the small of your back had an impact tripled, but you managed to submit it to travelling through your nose, rather than gasping out your mouth. But you were certain that Simon had caught you. He never missed a thing.

-----------

John "Bravo Six" Price

After shaking hands again with the presenter and declaring a few thanks to the crew, you were guided straight to the dressing room by Price. You took off your own microphone and handed it to him, which he immediately passed to a nervous stagehand. Your name in Arial font on an A4 sheet of paper greeted you from the dressing room door.

Sometimes you needed that extra time to decompress and he knew before you did more often than not. Today was not one of those days, though you did request to stop and pick up the bouquet that had been there to welcome you in when you first arrived. It was so large, your favourites blooming in the dew-dropped cellophane, that you had trouble waving to the folks who’d stuck around at the barrier, Price’s arms keeping you walking and guiding you towards the car.

For your safety, you had to go in the back where the tinted windows offered you a hint of privacy. It was a thorn in your side though. You longed to sit beside Price as he fought playfully with you over the music, grumbled with the directions his phone offered, collected your drive-in order. Then maybe your daydream of being his partner could have a little more to stand on.

A true gentleman as well as your protector, Price walked you up to the house and let you set up your evening meal while he made final checks to secure your house again. Normality for you was hearing him walk around and jiggle door handles and returning only when he was certain none had been tampered with and your cameras were fully functioning.

“Anything else you need from me before I leave for the night?” He asked, standing at ease in front of you.

You gestured to the bouquet you were cradling like a baby, “Thank you for the flowers.”

His brows furrowed for a split second then a sheepish smile smoothed out the lines in his forehead, highlighting his eyes instead.

“You caught me,” He said quietly, sparing a look at the flowers he asked the host to order for you, then back at you.

Squinting mischievously, you asked, “Were you really hiding it?”

“I suppose not.” He let his smile soften and dull. Back to business. Yet you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth before he asked, “Anything else you need?”

Your heart yearned to beg him to stay and tell you what else he did behind the scenes without a hint of expecting more, so that you could show him how much you cared in an appropriately equal response. His favourite whiskey perhaps for when he was off duty, or one day doing something together that he wanted to do so it wasn’t just looking after you. It was more than that, the job. He’d told you so. But you didn’t want to just be a job to him.

Quietly, you maintained your decorum, “No, thank you.”

John nodded his head, “Of course.”

It was as he was about to cross the threshold when you started to ask, “Do you-”

Not even three words made it out before Price whipped around, already returning to where he’d stood before. You could feel your lungs struggling under the strain of maintaining steady breathing at the gesture, suspending all the blood in your face (and maybe your groin). It stopped your question in its path, as if it was waiting until Price was listening attentively (he always was for you).

“Yes?” He prompted, his voice soft as if to coax you out of your hideout.

Fidgeting with the bouquet still, you cleared your throat and began again, “Do you want to join me, for dinner?”

Price’s hands, now at his sides, tapped on his thighs thrice before he said, “Two conditions.”

“Name them.”

Perhaps you said that a little too quickly because it made him laugh, which only made things worse for you. You had a real weakness for that laugh.

“You teach me whatever you’re planning on making, and you let me help you make it.”

Your heart accelerated and you dismissed his with a smile and a slight self-deprecating remark to soften the weight of this decision you were both making: “It’s nothing special.”

“Those are my terms,” Price insisted. His eyes creased as a smile grew on his face, more beautiful than the flowers forgotten the second you placed them into the vase. But at least it gave you to excuse to look away and gather your expression into something more collected as you ordered him to go and wash his hands.

[cat3ch1sm]

This is so awkward, but I was wondering if you could write hcs for if the reader called L, Mello, Near, and Matt "daddy" or "sir" or something else along those lines during sex? 😭 (if not that's totally fine I just got a mental image of Mello being like "what-" and I'm seeking other opinions lol)

🐸~ loll!! don't worry i have gotten much worse requests than this, this isn't at all awkward. this request seemed fun lol i hope u enjoy! i love u lots and thanks for ur support<33

nsfw ahead, gn!reader, sub!reader

how they'd react to being called daddy/sir during sex~ wammy boys

matt

~ it just slipped from your lips in the heat of the moment. you had been really hazy and a bit delirious and matt had been deep inside you when it just popped out. and yes, it did catch him by surprise for about half a second since he wasn't expecting it and it wasn't something you'd ever called him before. but in the same half a second he was caught off guard, matt decided he loved it. he doesn't say anything about it in the moment, but it was the way you said it, with your shaky voice barely coherent and your pretty eyes crossed, overwhelmed with pleasure. matt takes it as a sign that he's doing a really good job, and best believe he makes it his mission to get one of those out of you again every time you two get intimate. on the other hand, expect pretty relentless teasing about it. matt both finds it amusing and a hell of a turn on how easily he can get you off, how he can make you just lose yourself like that.

~ "hey, matt, can you get that over there for me?"

~ "don't you mean daddy?"

~ "you are the worst."

mello

~ mello is someone who enjoys being in control during sex. so when you moan that in this pathetic, trembling voice, pleading with tears pricking the corners of your eyes for him to keep going, it's really such a rush for him. the brief moment of surprise at the unexpected title is quickly swept away by the surge of pride, almost arrogant in its nature. you've fully surrendered yourself to him; your pleasure is in his hands; you've acknowledged his power over your body. he'll probably get rougher in the moment, and later on in future intimate encounters he'll outright make you say it, denying you any release until you do, over and over and over.

near

~ although near does usually prefer it when you both are equals during sex, he can't help the swell of satisfaction in his heart when you call him that. after all, he has an ego like every other man on this list, and near gets something out of being at least somewhat in control, even in your sexual encounters where he does normally prefer not for anyone to be dominant. it's not like he needs to hear you say it every time, but near certainly doesn't mind when you do. besides, it means you like what he's doing and he's making you feel good, which is what he wants most.

ryuzaki

~ he probably spends the most time being surprised out of anybody else on this list. he doesn't have anything against it- besides, it would probably kill the mood if ryuzaki paused mid-sex to ask about it and what brought it on- but he just is somebody who likes having answers. so he may or may not literally interview you about it later- did he do something different? is that something that might happen again? what prompted you to call him that? he must know, even if you can hardly even sit up or form a full sentence yet.

[sparklz02]

Is He Gay?

[Lyeny x fem!reader 🪄]

part 2

“Have you girls heard of the new gossip going around?” Your friend—Alice—asks excitedly.

Another friend—Maria—responds with equal energy, “Are you referring to that gossip?”

Alice squeals, “Yes! That new gossip!”

You look between your two friends with concern but also curiosity, “Did this gossip by chance erupt from the Steambird again?”

Maria shakes her head and tuts, “No, no! Though it might actually catch a publisher's attention soon enough. It is strange how they have yet to write about it though…”

Alice nods her head in agreement, “That is very strange. They are usually very fast when it comes to trending gossip.”

You huff in frustration, “Ok we get it, the Steambird is behind for the first time since its founding days. What’s this gossip???”

Your friends giggle at your frustration before looking at you with excitement. Alice quickly responds cheerfully, “This new gossip is about whether or not the Great Magician Monsieur Lyney is gay!”

You deadpanned, “This is the new trending gossip???”

They gasp in surprise at your lack of surprise. Maria asks in a concerned tone, “Aren’t you even slightly curious yourself Y/N?”

You cross your arms and ask seriously, “How the heck did this even start??? What about him began this whole circulation of his sexual preference??”

Alice grabs her fan and begins to fan herself quickly in disbelief, “Oh my archons, it’s everything about him of course!”

You raise a brow, “‘Everything’ you say? Enlighten me.”

Your friends look around before leaning over the table in a totally not suspicious manner. Alice whispers quietly, “Have you noticed the way he behaves? He is very friendly with the male audience during his performances!”

Maria also quietly chimes in, “His outfit is also very…interesting. No man in Fontaine dresses as exotically as he does!”

Alice adds to her previous comment, “There have also been rumors suggesting that maybe he is bisexual. He may be nice to the male audience but he is also quite suggestive with the ladies!”

Maria nods enthusiastically at Alice’s claims. She adds on to her comment, “Or maybe he is being suggestive with the ladies to hide any evidence that he is gay?”

Alice squeals, “Oh my you are probably onto something Maria! Don’t you think Y/N?”

You had a look of disappointment and deadpanned, “Is he not allowed to be friendly with the audience he is entertaining??”

Your friend's excitement was now washed over with an unamused expression. Alice whines, “Why can’t we be allowed to entertain the possible idea that he could be gay!”

You shrug, “I just find it disrespectful to make assumptions about someone’s preference without gaining confirmation from them.”

Maria pouts, “You know very well that we are unable to approach him! Security is too tight and surely he will run away from us thinking that we are deranged fans!”

You mumbled quietly, “I wouldn’t blame him for thinking that…”

Your friends gasp and Maria cries, “I heard that! Oh you wound me…!”

Alice pretends to wipe away a tear, “And here we thought you would understand us Y/N. How dare you make fun of your dear friends!”

You chuckle at their antics, “You girls can stop exaggerating now.” You place your hands on the table and quickly change the topic, “But seriously how is his attire and behavior weird? He is a Magician after all. He is supposed to be ‘other-worldly’ or ‘magical’.”

Maria replies, “Ok that is a very fair argument.”

Alice nods, “I also have to agree that you made a very fair point.”

You hum happily knowing you managed to win, “Shall we continue with our tea time?”

Alice looks at you curiously, “Before we do that, are you . you're not even just a little bit curious—”

Maria gently slaps Alice’s head, “Ok maybe we should actually drop the gossip for the day~.”

You all chattered and had a wonderful time and began to part ways, promising to schedule for another tea time whenever time permits. As you walk around the streets of the central city, you begin to see many people huddled together whispering among themselves.

You could make out bits and pieces of their conversations as you were casually walking around…

“Hey have you heard…”

“Well he does have an exotic attire…”

“I heard that he gave the traveler a rainbow rose!”

“He is very touchy with the audience…”

“I saw him giving a lady a hug…”

“Maybe he…”

You begin to zone out and walk aimlessly as you begin to process the conversation you had with your friends and what you are hearing from the people around.

‘Is he gay…?’

You quickly caught yourself and shook your head furiously and mumbled, “No, no. Don’t let the gossip get to you. Lynette would be the first to know then me and Freminet…”

‘But what if…?’

You grab your head and groan, “For the love of the Hydro Archon! Ughhhhh! Don’t let their gossip get to me, I beg of you Hydro Archon!”

‘Then again, Lady Furina would absolutely love this gossip and also demand answers….’

You quickly left the city, unable to handle all the crazy variations of gossip being spewed at every corner. You find yourself outside the walls of the city and sit by a ledge and admire the view of the open waters.

You felt at peace and in control. The wind gently swayed your hair and provided a comforting chill that you gladly welcomed while watching the birds play and fishes swimming about. The quiet noise of the waters rushing ashore then back to the ocean was also another relaxing variable.

You leaned over slightly to see your reflection in the water and admired it momentarily before your attention was snatched away by a fish that poked its head out of the water before quickly hiding again after being caught by you.

You giggled at the sight before heaving out a long sigh of relief. You had failed to notice someone approaching you with mischievous intent.

The figure slowly crept up behind you and gently tapped your left shoulder. You were caught off guard and quickly looked back to see who disturbed you.

“Bonjour mon ami! Enjoying the peace and tranquility?”

You sigh and go back to looking at the open waters of Fontain, “Mhm, I just needed to get away from society for a bit.”

Lyney tilts his head before asking, “Why is that? Anything unpleasant happened today?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say unpleasant. It’s just ridiculous gossip going around and it’s just…”

Lyney hums, “it’s just…?”

You shook your head, “Really just dumb gossip that I could not handle. If I were to stay any longer, I too would’ve been part of the mob.”

He chuckles, “Was it that bad?”

You looked back at him with the intention of answering back but you zoned out very quickly. You began to wonder,

‘Do I tell him about what people are saying about him?’

You could see that Lyney gave you a concerned look.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t. It’s his life, not mine.’

“Are you ok?”

“Are you gay?” You blurted out.

Lyeny now had a very shocked look and you watched as you slowly began to process what you had just said.

Your face becomes flushed in embarrassment and quickly defend yourself, "Please ignore that! I didn't meant for that to come out, I–"

"So you were thinking if I was gay?" He asks in an amused tone.

"No-! I mean yes–! Wait no I–!"

You covered your face with your hands in shame. You groaned and refused to meet his mischievous gaze.

Lyney laughed heartily to your embarrassment. He wrapped his stomach with his arms as he hunched over, "Where did you get that assumption from~?"

You groaned, refusing to face him and tell him how you even stumbled upon this idea.

His laughter finally dies down. He wipes away a few tears before placing himself next to you on the ledge and grabs your left arm gently, "Look at me please~?"

You remain stiff and mumble quietly, "No…"

He sighs before removing your left hand from your face and cupping your face with his hands, forcing you to look his way.

You kept your eyes shut, stubbornly refusing to see his face. Lyney chuckles, finding amusement towards your behavior before he leans forward slowly…

You felt something soft touch your forehead which made you flinch at the unexpected feeling. You slowly peeled your eyes open, wondering what was touching your forehead and why Lyney had become quiet.

"Hey, what are you–"

You see Lyeny leaning over to your forehead giving it a gentle kiss. You quickly pulled away and your face immediately plunged into a deep shade of crimson.

You place your right hand onto your forehead and attempt to form a normal sentence but ultimately fail miserably.

Lyney flashes you his signature charming smile, "Does that provide an answer to your question~?"

"Huh…?"

He pouts, "Seems like I need to be a bit more upfront about this. Hmmmm, what to do~?"

Your mind was all over the place trying to make sense of the whole situation. Lyney could tell that you were caught off guard and still processing everything.

Lyney smirks and removes his hat and places it in front of you, "Look inside my hat, it's empty right?"

You snapped out of your trance and looked inside of his hat. It was indeed empty and you nodded silently.

He flips his hat before placing it upside down again and peering inside, "Oh it seems like there's something inside!"

He quickly places his hand inside and pulls out a bouquet of rainbow roses. He offers it to you and winks, "Let's go out on a romantic dinner date at Hotel Debord. You'll find the answer that you seek there~."

[chrollohearttags]

moreeeeee dom mikasa x thick blk fem reader 🤭

ask and you shall receive! 🥰 this is going to be a full fic in the future (I mean it this time!)

cw: sexual tension, black fem, pansexual reader, flirting, French kissing, fondling/groping, mentions of alcohol, toxic mikasa cause she’s my fave, pussy eating, toy use, these two are just so nasty like 🥴🥴

so I really love this idea of Mikasa being a bad bitch..like tongue ring, nails long, got the tight skirts on, tattoos down her arm and titties and ass out. A girls girl who loves to have fun and get a little flirtatious (freaky). Imagine her being your long time nail tech..one of, if not, the most talented artist in the city. Shes always on Instagram, posing in her y2k, gothic-esque fits, in her bikinis or with tube tops, displaying her incredible acrylic arts over her breasts. (giving very much ice spice) Even dyeing her signature pixie cut a couple of times just to switch it up. She was so fine and constantly getting the attention of everyone. You tend to frequent her salon pretty often..interchanging those extravagant sets out bi-weekly. Not just because you loved her work but because she too was quite the sight to look at. “Alright, mama. What are we doing for you today?”

asking so sweetly with a lollipop protruding from her mouth, knowing that you were her most adventurous and daring client; giving her the opportunity to challenge herself and stay honed up on her skills. The French tip and almond bitches preferably had no place in her chair. You worked at the club down the road as a bottle girl..so you had to be laced at all times. Nothing but forty inches or more of Brazilian bundles touched your head, the tightest fitting, tiniest clothes on that beautiful body..that ass swaying with each step and of course, the nails were perfect. Matching the pretty pink toes she done for you last week, (y/n) extended your arm out and showed her a reference photo of what you wanted. Merely giving you a smirk, Mikasa began picking up her tools and got to work. The entire time, she notices you glaring at her and can’t help but laugh. “You okay, sweetheart?” But little does she know that you’re just nervous being around her. Even for someone who was finer than a fucking parking ticket yourself and worked around the baddest bitches all day long…she was still raw. Still one of the most gorgeous women you had ever laid eyes on. For a moment, your eyes couldn’t help but to hone in on those new nipple piercings shone through her white Mui Mui crop top. Eventually, the two of you would talk about work, dating and because you two were the only ones around…a little sex talk got thrown into the mix. You’d tell her about your latest conquest..how disappointed you were in the dick and she’d just laugh it off, thinking to herself how sad it was that you even subjected yourself to such mediocrity. She on the other hand? Would never. Miss Ackerman has quite the reputation as a heartbreaker and homewrecker…but not in the sense that anyone would think. It was nothing for her to snatch a bitch straight off the arm of some dumbass man who wasn’t treating her right in the first place and fuck her until she came to her senses, leaving that loser where he stood. Only for her to leave the poor girl devastated because she wanted to be single. She was equally notorious for her antics as she was for doing nails and you loved that about her. But it was when you told her who the man was that she burst into laughter. “Come on, (y/n), you didn’t even like him. No way you let him fuck..” “I know, I was just bored and he was kind of fine. Total dud though..his ass could barely even find the clit. I should’ve kicked him out right then..” However, she felt like she had a solution to your problem. Eyeballing you as she patted on the acrylic, Mikasa flicked her tongue ring through her lips and smirked at you. “..you wouldn’t have that problem with me..” you pretended not to hear her at first because this bitch played too much but you’d ask her to repeat herself. “You heard me..let’s not act like it wouldn’t be fun.” She most certainly made a point. You’d heard stories of how she’d turned even the straightest bitches out. A real fantasy and she was equally infatuated with you..so the entire time she’s doing your set, the topic of sex only intensifies tenfold. Talking about what you like, favorite toys and the freakiest things but you assured her she wouldn’t know what to do with you..so she makes you a little proposition: “..after you get off, come by my place.” And you had never been so apt to agree!

your shift at the strip club couldn’t end any sooner because the second you touched down at her high rise condo, it was on. All the shit you were talking about being able to eat pussy better than her, saying she wouldn’t be able to handle you…you were about to eat every last one of those words! She knew you were full of shit but it was going to be so much fun to break you and show you who was really boss. This tiny woman, only five foot four in stature, tossing you around like a grown ass man! Bringing you to your knees the second she got you through the door. Flicking her tongue on your clit through the Fenty panties, fingering you slowly while forcing you to keep your eyes on her; a vice grip on your throat and even fucking you with a dildo, just because she wanted to see you cream for her. You didn’t move without so much as her say so..begging her for more with that fucked out expression on your pretty face. “What’s wrong, baby? I thought you said I couldn’t handle it…” laughing as she watches you slowly descend into a dumbed mind. Taunting as she teases that rose vibrator against you as you lie against her bare breasts. She’s constantly reminding you of your own words; and that she was only proving a point. You had lost track of how many times you came before she even slid that strap inside of you, folding you up like a pretzel so she can press a thumb to that aching bud and watch you squirt as she pounds your little pussy. You weren’t the first stubborn little bitch she’s had to break but you were damn sure the best and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she’d get you in her bed. “You’re my slut now, yeah? You’ll only come this good for me, right?” Not with the way you moaned and whimpered for her..tears streaking down your face and the mess you’d made all over her. Even telling you to get on top and ride her until your legs got tired. Only catching her in a moment of weakness when you bent down to flick your tongue across her sensitive, barred nipples. The two of you fucked like rabbits for hours on end..going at it until the early morning; only breaking for a few shots of alcohol that further fueled the freak fest. But once it was done and you lied there wrapped in her sheets, asking why she put it on you like that, she’d turn to you and snake her tongue into your mouth, tasting her sweet flavor. “You’re my favorite client, I always gotta take care of you.”

[cinnamokittykat]

My head canons for Sol Brugsmansia x chubby fem! reader!

TW for: Sexual content, Dubcon(?), stalker/yandere tendencies, mentioned violence, mentions of body issues, Somnophilia

SFW (TW for some mild violence)

- This man needs a girl who can be his pillow, so of course he sets his sights on you immediately

- He's the biggest slut for headpats, you could honestly bribe him to do so much by promising to pet him a bit

- Is there an article of clothing you want that isn't available in your size? He'll learn how to tailor them to your size, even if it's a bit shoddy at first

- If anyone were to ever insinuate that you aren't enough because of your weight... They might not be dead but they'll likely be pretty bloody

- He gets so sad when you feel bad about yourself, he'd just grab you and not let you go until you feel better

- He bites affectionately. He bites to get your attention. Sometimes he bites just to bite.

- When he gets jealous, he doesn't lash out at you at all. The worst he may do towards you is cry/beg. The only people he'd hurt in the situation are the people he perceives as a threat. Not you, his perfect girl.

NSFW

- He also bites to mark his territory while making out and having sex.

- He LOVES your curves, especially your boobs. He loves grabbing them and squishing them and kneading them and he loves when you wear a low cut shirt and lean forward in it

- He loves your ass more because he doesn't have to worry about you catching him staring as easily

- So, so so whiny and vocal. Especially when he's been staring at your body all day and has spent the majority of it hard in some capacity.

- Loves eating pussy so much. He'll pin you down and bury his face in between your thick thighs until you're teared up from overstimulation and he has a wet spot in his pants from cumming. If you two aren't together yet, he'll sneak into your room at night and eat you out in your sleep.

- Ideally if he had to die, he'd choose to do it by having your legs wrapped around his head until he suffocates

- Would make you cum from oral a number of times then have the best time sticking his tongue in your pussy to clean you up

- He really prefers being submissive or on equal footing with you in the bedroom. Ideally he's being used as your toy to get off, laying on his back to be ridden to completion, letting you control the situation.

- But when he does feel possessive. Angry. Jealous. It feels like a different person takes hold of him. He'll embarrass, threaten, or even eliminate whatever threat he sees to you two being together forever. After they've been taken care of how he sees fit, he'd find you and pound you until walking isn't a possibility the next day. He'll fuck you until your ass is red and your neck is a patchy-reddish purple and cum drips from your hole. If he somehow ever got your permission, he'd do it in front of the other person too. Make them see what they'd be up against if they even tried.

- And if you were being watched during, he's going into overdrive with the theatrics. It doesn't matter if he has to edge himself, overstimulate himself, or power through muscle pain and lack of breath, he'll do it so show how great of a partner he is.

- The added benefit to this for him is that you'll have no choice but to be taken care of by him at least for a short period of time. He'd happily feed you and bathe you and massage you as much as you need.