#which is sweet of course but. you get what i mean?

[cosmonauter]

ahh, i hope you like it @liv-does-stuff !!

bestfriend james who has no boundaries with you!!

james potter thinks you are the best friend he's ever had. normally people tell him that he's too clingy, and they don't like him hanging around them all the time. and it's not a problem for him, but he just wants someone to let him hug and touch without being awkward about it.

so when you two met, he felt like the luckiest person on earth because you don't think it's weird when he hugs you from behind and kisses the top of your head.

you don't judge him for demanding cuddles and sleepovers at least two times a week. you even encourage him to be touchier!

his favourite thing to do with you is bathing together. since he's a headboy, he has unlimited access to the prefect's bathroom, which means that the two of you bathe together as often as possible.

he's especially excited to meet you today because he was informed about a new couple in school, and he really wants to gossip about it with you!

so while he is cleaning his bed of sirius' socks and peter's sweets, because you're sleeping over today, sirius decides to ask him a question, "are you meeting up with them again? don't you think it's a little weird that you guys bath at the same time in the same room, even though you're 'just friends'?"

"why would it be weird? they wash my back and i condition their hair for them. it's logical and they don't mind it aswell. it's actually really nice, and besides, don't act as if remus and you don't shower together!"

remus sighs, "james, sirius and i are in a relationship with eachother. aside from that, i totally agree with pads, it is weird that you take baths together. what's even weirder is you touching while being in said bath!"

"you guys just don't have the connection that my dove and i have. it's okay though, don't be sad about it! maybe one day you'll reach the same trust we have in each other.", james throws a towel over one shoulder and picks out a shirt for you to wear, and matching pants, so everyone you come across in the halls knows about your superior friendship (and that you're his, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone, not even under torture).

"i'm going to the bath, padfoot don't eat anything on my bed, my dove complained about the crumbs last time, and i promised them to change that! they're sleeping with me today. bye bye!"

he closes the door before any of them can say anything and runs to the bathroom as fast as he can.

-

as soon as he arrives in the prefect bathroom, he already sees you taking off your clothes.

while you are struggling with unzipping your pants, he comes up behind you and grabs your waist, pulling you into an embrace. your naked back against his broad chest sends electric shocks down his body and he shivers against you and presses your body closer to his.

"jamie, can you help me with my zipper? it isn't moving any further and i can't get out of my pants like that."

james would do anything for you, if you never stopped looking at him with those puppy-eyes, "of course, sweetheart. stay still."

he moves his hand away for a moment to turn your body facing his. while his one hand moves towards your zipper, the other one steadying your body by holding your hip, he grins at you and you smile back up at him.

he tugs a few times, but the pants don't budge. you notice his forehead getting sweatier, so you suggest to "take off your shirt jamie, it's to hot in here for you to be wearing it!" while tugging it up his back a little.

he pulls it off and throws it to the side, giving you a grin, "if you wanted me naked, darling, you just had to ask."

you scrunch your brows together, "if i wanted you naked, you would already be.". he snorts, and keeps tugging at your jeans.

suddenly an idea blossoms in his head. what if your zipper got stuck on something from the inside of your pants. so, of course, he sticks his hand down your pants to find a little string, connected to your underwear, being held hostage by said zipper.

"darling, you just have to pull your trousers down together with your panties. see, just like that..", he slowly eases your trousers over your butt, enjoying the feeling of your body under his hands.

you shiver against him and moan out," thank you, jamie. i should've thought about that." you blush and hide your head in his chest.

"don't worry about it, my love. i'm happy to help you as much as you need.", he smiles down at you, while you start tugging down his zipper to take of his trousers.

as soon as they fall to the floor, james picks you up by your waist and throws you into the water.

" james, you idiot!!", you scream at him while trying to splash him with the water. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry angel! i'll jump in okay? will that make you happy?"

-

"they are definitely fucking, i'm telling you!"

"sirius, calm down! what if they hear you, huh?"

"oh come on remus, they wear matching pajamas and use silencing charms every single time they have a 'sleepover', they won't hear a thing, trust me!"

"you're right, love, but still."

"wormy, what do you think?"

"i think they're both idiots, who really don't get why it's so weird."

please tell me if i need to change something, or if you have some tips on getting better. i hope you enjoyed it :))

[pennotfound]

George hates editing videos, and he's always been able to sweet-talk his best friend into either helping him or doing it all himself.

Surely a little cold won't stop that, right?

The Art of Procrastination

“George!” Dream knocked on his office door and George jumped a little, dropping the Rubix cube he'd been working on for the past hour.

Quickly he wiggled his computer mouse to refresh the screen, just in case Dream decided to barge in.

He did. Of course he did.

The door only opened a crack before a stack of boxes from LA stopped it.

“George.” Dream let out a little grunt as he pushed harder on the door to move the boxes. “You need…” He buried his mouth in the inside of his elbow and coughed. “You need to unpack these boxes.”

“I know.” George shrugged as he stood up and moved the stack out of the way. “And I will. Eventually. I just need someone to help me. I'm no good at decorating, you know that.”

“Did you ask my mom?” Dream stepped around a few more boxes and settled on a stool. “She did mine and helped Sapnap with his. I'm sure she'd be happy to help you with yours.”

“I'm… I don't want to bother her.” George half-lied. Truth was, he knew if he decorated his office he'd have nothing holding him back from streaming. And he just wasn't ready yet.

Dream understood and didn't press further, which George was thankful for.

Instead, Dream leaned closer to the monitor, then rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I thought you were editing. That's what Sapnap said.”

“I am.” George lied again, but this time Dream crossed his arms and leaned on the desk.

“George, Sapnap and I have been telling everyone during our spaces and streams that you've been busy editing.” Dream reached for the mouse and George lunged to swat it away.

“I… I am.” George said, determined to convince his best friend.

Dream knew him better than that.

“Okay, okay.” George sighed in defeat and slumped into his chair. “So I've been procrastinating a little. I was hoping you could edit them. Because you're just sooo good at it.”

“George, I know you can do this.” Dream countered. “You edited your meetup vlog in one day and that was much longer.”

“Please?” George whined, sticking out his lower lip and giving Dream his best puppy dog eyes.

“You know that's not working on me.” Dream gave George's chair a little kick, then covered his mouth as another round of coughs shook his chest. “I'm immune to your…. Your fucking wiles.”

“Probably the only thing you are immune to.” George mumbled as he swiveled in his chair.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Whatever.” Dream let out a long sigh. “How about this? If you help me and Sapnap fix the issue with his video, then I'll help you with yours.”

“I don't even know if I can, though.” George replied. “He told me about the problem and as far as I can tell, it's beyond my abilities.”

“Dude.” Dream raised his hands in frustration. “I thought you were like, an expert at that stuff.”

“Even I have my limits.” George shrugged. “So about my video…”

“I'm not doing it!”

“But Dreeeaam….”

“I mean it, George.” Dream coughed again, so violently this time that his entire body shook. “I'm not… I'm not.... gonna be... your little…. your little simp.”

“Oh my God, Dream.” George recoiled, pushing his chair away. He wanted to comfort Dream, really he did. But even he had his limits. “Maybe you should leave, before you cough all over my setup and get me sick.”

“You mean like this?” Dream raised his head, smirked and leaned in to press a big wet kiss to George's cheek.

“Ewww! Dream, what the… ewwww!” George stood up and ran into his attached bedroom to scrub his face clean of Dream’s germ warfare.

A low chuckle sounded from in George's office, interspersed with coughs. “Then I guess… I guess I'll leave… you to your editing.”

A few moments later, the door clicked shut.

Damn it.

George blindly reached for a towel to dry off his face, then opened the cabinet and pulled out a canister of Clorox wipes.

If he was going to edit, he needed to disinfect everything first.

Several hours later, George leaned back in his chair while a surge of dopamine rushed through his veins. He had to admit, editing was easier than he thought once he started. He was even able to help Sapnap with his problem.

Double dopamine.

He picked up his phone to text Dream, and immediately he remembered that Dream was probably asleep. Or trying to sleep.

Remorse crept over George's skin and he slumped in his chair. He really shouldn't have whined to Dream so much earlier. Especially with Dream being sick. It was… well, it was insensitive.

He needed to make it up to Dream.

And he knew just how to do it.

Fifteen minutes later, George closed the front door after bringing the bag inside that the Doordash driver had left there. Then, with his laptop in his other arm, he walked down the hall to Dream’s room. George set the bag down and tucked the laptop under his arm before picking up the bag again and opening the door.

“Dream.” George whispered through his mask into the darkness while the ceiling fan whirred overhead. “Dream, are you awake?”

A groan sounded from the bed, after which Dream rolled over and coughed into his elbow. “I am now. And why are you in here? I already said no.”

“That's not why I'm here, idiot.” George shook his head as he approached the bed. He set the laptop on the comforter next to Dream, then opened up the bag.

“Wait.” Dream sat up, then reached for the bowl in George's hands. “is that… chicken noodle? From Panera?”

“Mm-hmm” George nodded. “And I got extra bread for you too. I know how much you like it. And lemonade with lots of ice. The good kind.”

“George.” Dream’s voice softened, and George glanced away, trying to hide the blush that colored his cheeks every time Dream used that voice. “That's… that's so sweet of you.”

“Here, let me get your tray.” George walked into the closet and came back with the tray that Dream's mum had used the last time she visited. Carefully he extended the legs, then set it over Dream’s lap so he could set his soup and lemonade on it.

He picked up his laptop then, and scooted into the bed next to Dream. “And that's not even the best part.” George turned to face Dream and smiled, hoping Dream could see it in his eyes with the mask covering his mouth. “I edited my video. It's ready and I wanted you to see it first before I post it.”

“Wait... really? George, that's awesome!” Dream replied as he carefully removed the lid on his soup. “I'm proud of you, George. I know I gave you a hard time about it but –”

“I know.” George nudged Dream’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Dream tore off a piece of bread and dunked it into the hot broth. “I assume that's what the laptop is for?”

“Yeah.” George opened the laptop and pulled up the file. “I edited the longer video. I figured we could watch it while you eat your soup.”

Dream chewed the bread, then swallowed. “Sounds good to me.”

A half hour later, the video ended and George closed his laptop. Dream hadn't said much during the video, probably because he was eating.

A soft thump on George's shoulder gave him the real reason.

A smile on his lips, George carefully picked up the tray and set it on the floor for later. He hadn't even taken one step, though, before George felt a tug on his shirt.

"Stay." Dream mumbled, half asleep.

It reminded George of another time, another day. When an ocean separated them.

Now he was here. So he stayed.

George climbed into bed and immediately Dream rolled into his side. Wrapping an arm around Dream, George held him close, ready to comfort him through the next coughing fit.

And he'd stay as long as Dream needed him.

At least until he pestered George to edit another video.

~END~

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#58: The Fearless (1.06)

gif cred: @nerd4music

What Rick and Michonne are about to do is super risky, and yet they aren't scared to take this on. And as Michonne will make clear, their fearlessness has everything to do with how safe Richonne makes each other feel 🥰...

So first, Pearl shows up to Rick’s room to see if he’s there and does she knock? Of course not. 🙃 She again just walks right in and then, seeing that Rick left his prosthetic in his room when he’s usually never without it, Pearl starts putting some pieces together. 

Rick leaving his prosthetic behind made me think about Rick and Michonne's final handhold in TWD. In TWD 9.03, Rick has his hand balled up in a fist when they get bad news. Then, Michonne slides her hand into his as he tightly holds her hand.

I've always felt that was a nice illustration of how Michonne is the one who can always get Rick to release his frustration and how being with her helps him feel like he’s never in this alone. They’re always held by each other's love and can recenter on that even amid frustrating or fear-inducing circumstances.

...But then Rick is taken from Michonne, he chops his hand off to get back to her, and what is he given as a replacement? A permanent fist. Almost like it represents how now Rick has to live with this cemented enduring sense of frustration.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And then when Michonne re-enters his life and brings that man back in mind, heart, and soul, what does Pearl see? That fist extension left behind. Why? Because even Rick’s “permanent” fist can be replaced by the embrace of Michonne’s love, just like in their final irl TWD moment together. 👌🏽

So next, CRM soldiers start taking their seats and Rick and Michonne enter a tent to finish out their plan. I know some felt this plan was all too easy, but to me...

Rick doesn’t technically have to be incognito at all since he’s actually supposed to be a part of this CRM gathering and Michonne has a red-striped uniform so she’s not likely to be questioned either which explains why they’re able to maneuver throughout the space fairly smoothly.

As Richonne discreetly sets up the bombs, Pearl watches from a window as CRM soldiers gather for CRMchella before they horribly go and commit mass destruction on innocent people. 😣

But this military won’t get the chance to fulfill their operation because Rick and Michonne are in the middle of prepping to cause some mass destruction of their own. 

gif cred: @taiturner

I love the shot with Michonne’s wedding ring on her finger as she sets up the bombs. Our girl is wifed up, y’all. 🥹 I mean she has been for a long while, but still, I gotta celebrate it every time. 🥳

Also, I like how the contrast of the wedding ring and the bombs really hammers home the uniqueness of this epic apocalyptic love story. And it’ll always give me life seeing that Rick finally got to give her that ring like he dreamt about and that Michonne now gets to wear a ring of her own. 😌

As they walk back up to each other, Rick says, “This is it.” and Michonne says “Yeah.” And then Rick gets more specific about what he means when he says, “This is the last we’re apart.” Love it. 🥰 Spoken like a true magnet. 🧲😌

And Rick saying this just made it crystal clear that Rick and Michonne are about to be healthily attached at the hip from here on out. They’re not leaving each others side for anything anymore.

I know the finale being called The Last Time had some worried because it sounded so final and even ominous but y’all, I’m convinced it’s called 'The Last Time' because it’s the last time Richonne ever willingly part for longer than five minutes. 😋

gif cred: @nat111love

And it’s also super sweet that Rick says this because I got the sense that throughout this finale one of his least favorite parts of the plan was that he and Michonne would have to briefly separate again. So you know he’s happy they’re nearly done so that they don’t have to part anymore. 

Rick saying that was already nice, but then the moment gets even better as Michonne looks into Rick’s eyes and tells him, “I should be scared. Just standing here, I should be scared, but I’m not. Because of you.” The best. 😭😭

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

I adore the way this reemphasizes her sentiment that the only time she feels safe is when she’s with him. She really means that, and I love how she looks at Rick and has that subtle smile as she says it, knowing her husband is her truest safe space.

It's so meaningful how she's aware that the reason she's not scared right now is not just because she's a capable person who only envisions winning, but because she's with Rick, her other half who she trusts wholeheartedly. I love that Michonne always wants Rick to know that he makes her feel so secure even in the face of very dangerous circumstances. 🥹

And it’s really refreshing that this time around Rick is clearly responsive to hearing this from Michonne. When she told him that being with him is the only time she feels safe in episode 4, he felt he had to mask how he really feels about that - but here you can tell even in his subtle expression that his wife feeling this way means something special to him.

gif cred: @nat111love

Especially knowing how he started this show with loved ones who doubted his ability to keep people safe, Rick has to feel so uplifted knowing Michonne never doubts if she's safe when he's around.

I love how Rick and Michonne's love makes them both feel fearless. 🥲 For a time, their love made Rick riddled with fear of what could happen to Michonne. But, now that they’re back to fully believing the two of them can do anything, they’re back to operating in their fearless love. 😌

And then because gift-giving is truly one of Rick’s favorite ways to show his love, he says, “I forgot. I have something for you.” and gifts Beale’s sword to Michonne.

gif cred: @nat111love

Ok first of all - Man of the Year every year. No one is taking that title from Rick Grimes. 💯

Second of all; That is just the sweetest thing that Rick made sure to not leave Beale's sword behind because he thought it would make a good gift for his wife. 🥰 What a mighty good man. And mighty fine too.

I’ve long been convinced that Rick’s first thought when he sees most items is 'How can I turn this into a gift for Michonne.?' and TOWL just confirmed that lol. 👌🏽

Also, Rick really killed Beale in that briefing room, and before he left said...

Third of all; I like how this sword was so important to Beale and the CRM, it’s what thousands of soldiers swore on, for all of them it symbolized the power to kill and give life, it has a whole history...but then Rick decided what this sword is first and foremost is a nice little gift for Michonne until she gets her katana back. 😋

And Michonne might not even know exactly the significance of that sword because her and Beale didn’t really cross paths, but I know Rick knows that he’s giving this ‘life-giving’ sword to the woman that gives him life. 

Michonne’s smile at Rick is so sweet and appreciative as she accepts the sword. 🥲 Again, I adore that it’s always so clear that Michonne loves all the ways Rick shows his love.

And only Richonne can have such an adorable and heartwarming husband and wife moment while surrounded by tons of bombs and chlorine gas pods. 🤭

gif cred: @nat111love

So then they resume the set up, operating in sync of course. And the POV shot of them both lifting out a walker from the crate is great. 👏🏽We truly got us a couple that can do the lovers aspect and the lethal aspect to perfection. 🤩

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Pearl is standing at another window looking reflective and the puzzle pieces finally come together for her as she thinks back to several moments where it was clear Rick was actually probably in love with Dana Bethune.

Pearl recalls Rick urgently persuading her to convince the CRM that Dana is a B, Rick following Dana’s lead instead of hers after Pearl stuck her neck out for them, Rick proving to have a good poker face during their game of poker, and lastly she recalls Rick saying “She’s not gone” as Pearl officially realizes that not only is the someone Rick loves out there not gone, honey, she was all up in the CRM breaking kill records and doing Pearl’s job better than Pearl. 💅🏽

Pearl heads off with this new realization as it has to be hitting her that the one family member she thought she had here, she actually didn’t know at all. Because if she had known Rick even a little bit better, she’d have noticed a lot sooner that Rick had changed the second Dana showed up.

This is a man who previously was shut down to the point of being basically dead and now his eyes light up every time he talks about this new consignee...the writing was on the wall about who Rick and Michonne were to each other.

But I won’t go in on Pearl too much because I also know a thing or two about being late to the party when it comes to Richonne - even tho I also should have been way more aware that Richonne was endgame from the jump. To this day I'm like how blind could I have been back then? 😅 But those blind days are long gone.

Always one to find a practical use for walkers, Michonne and Rick attach wire to Walker Beale and the elevator solider so that they can set off the bombs and Richonne can escape in time.

As Michonne leads Beale out of the tent while wearing his sword on her back, Beale was giving us MJ Thriller realness as a walker lol. 🧟‍♂️😋

And then Rick and Michonne exit the tent and quickly reunite after leading their walkers in opposite directions. And seeing this part always makes me smile because I was like 'wait...is this what Rick meant when he said ‘this is the last we’re apart’ - the 30 seconds they’d be apart to lead the walkers away?' Oh that confirmed even more that Richonne really is about to be attached at the hip from now on. 🤭

But also I get it, because even if it was just a few seconds spent apart, it was a dangerous few seconds considering the circumstances. So I’m sure Rick is glad to have that part over with and be back together. 

gif cred: @taiturner

Rick and Michonne make a run for it and then right on cue, Pearl shows up with her gun aimed at them. I was like now Pearl, you can be late to the party realizing who Richonne are to each other but you gotta be right on time right now?? Figures. 😪

gif cred: @sowhumpful

Pearl demands to know where Beale is and says she knows Rick lied to her. Pearl asks, “What did you do? Rick? Dana?” Rick tries to talk to her but she tells them to take off their helmets and she shoots at Rick’s feet to make it clear she’s not playing around.

I definitely see a lot of understandable hurt on Pearl’s face as it just becomes crystal clear that Rick was not her family…he was Dana’s.

In that regard, I do feel for Pearl because she needed something to believe in after being dealt a tough pair of cards. She wanted to believe in the mission she was given from Okafor and then the mission she was given from Beale, and she wanted to believe she found family in Rick. So I can see how that would be painful for her to realize so much of what she believed in no longer exists and maybe even never did.

All that being said, I still need Thorne to stop pointing guns at my babies tho. 🥊🙂

gif cred: @sowhumpful

Next, Pearl tells them they’re going to go back into the tent and undo whatever they did and then Rick and Michonne share a nod before turning around. Once again it comes in handy that Richonne are capable of communicating with each other without talking because they seem to quickly be on the same page as they walk toward the tent.

Pearl says they’re going to regret this when she finds Beale but I was like - ma'am...do you not see Beale’s sword on Dana’s back? When you find Beale he’s gonna be a 'creature crawling in search of blood to terrorize y’all’s neighborhood.' 😅

As Rick and Michonne walk toward the tent with their hands up, Rick demonstrates that being held at gunpoint is temporary but being a loverboy is forever as he still finds a way to make this moment romantic. He takes Michonne’s hand while they walk and this was a super heartwarming moment. 🥹

I love that Rick wants to use the one hand he's got left to comfortingly take his wife's hand and once again offer Michonne some sense of safety. And taking her hand is a comfort for him too.

Knowing that they’re very much between a rock and a hard place - with Pearl aiming a gun at them on one side & a tent full of bombs that are about to blow on the other - this handhold was Richonne letting each other know that no matter what they're in this together. 🥲

gif cred: @sowhumpful

I’m sure seeing Rick hold Michonne’s hand had to be another blow to Pearl as she sees that Rick found the someone he loves out there while she had to give up on ever finding hers. 

As Richonne stays holding hands, Michonne says, “It never died. It won’t stop. It can’t stop.” And unless I’m mistaken, I think the 'it' she’s talking about is their love and connection. And if so, I love that. 🥰

gif cred: @sowhumpful

Both she and Rick have expressed how they view their love as endless, undeniable, and unstoppable. And it’s sweet that that’s what Michonne acknowledges here because, even in this predicament, she's confident they’ll find a way since Richonne doesn't get denied.

Michonne knows nothing has stopped the two of them together yet and it won’t start now. And as always...she’s exactly right. 😌👌🏽

[the-goo-goo-muck]

NOW PLAYING

CLUB: LEGAL ADVICE

Hiromi is just so overworked, & it's never as good when he's by himself, but you're so kind, of course you'll help him. . .

Starring: Hiromi Higuruma <3

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You’d thought long & hard, of course, about what on earth “massage therapy” might mean. It’s the only note Shiu had left under Hiromi’s name, like an asshole. You had the idea to ask him what he meant, but there was no way you were gonna come crawling to him for sex advice, especially considering he’d probably left that note there to purposely confuse you. No, you’d have to figure this one out solo. It could mean a couple of things, but you’d decided on a hand job. Keep things simple, right? You had been worried about the time limit; Choso had reserved you for an hour, which had made you anxious, but time had flown by. You could milk a hand job for an hour, literally. But maybe Hiromi would be different than your previous encounter; maybe he’d walk right in & tell you exactly what he wanted. You sure hoped so. You’d make sure to make him tell you, regardless of whether or not he wanted to. 

You repressed a scoff when passing Toji on your way past the bar as he gave you his signature shit-eating grin. “Where you headed in such a hurry, doll?” he smiles, letting the beauty of it paint his features. Fuck, you think, if only he wasn’t so goddamn hot. But that’s not just it; Toji knows you well, too well, knows things about you that nobody else does, things you wish he didn’t know, things that drive you crazy. “Oh that’s right, you’re off to fuck one of Shiu’s clients.” You could hardly call them that. “Fuckin’ sorcerers. You’re wastin’ your time with them, sweet thing.”

“As opposed to spending it with you? No thanks. Besides, you only fuck free whores. You want a night with me, you better be ready to cough it up, & last I checked, you’re broke.” You breezed past him, but he caught your arm & murmured in your ear with that gravelly voice that sent vibrations straight down to your cunt, “Not broke enough for you, doll. Don’t worry, I’m coughing it up, alright.”

Okay? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? But you scampered away before you could dwell on it. Getting into any kind of relationship with Toji, even some janky friends-with-benefits, work/fuck buddies situationship was a terrible idea. What was worse than that, though? You didn’t want those things with Toji. . .you wouldn’t dare admit it to yourself, but you wanted something real. 

You shook your head vehemently, though there was no one around to see you do it. You had a job to do, a job you were rather excited about, & you weren’t gonna let Toji distract you from that.

Shiu—or rather one of his assistants—prepared a similar room for tonight; small, secluded, mostly dark with music playing faintly in the background, & a chair reserved for the night’s activities. When you thought about it, it was almost a little awkward. However, you had had the same thoughts about Choso last night & it had been anything but awkward for you. 

So you kept your cool when you heard the soft click of the door a couple moments later. You were already facing him, & you could’ve sworn he had almost reached out to. . .shake your hand? But pulled himself back quickly. “Hello. My name is Hiromi. I assume you’re. . .Sugar?” The false name was purely sinful spilling out of his mouth, but his face betrayed nothing, the picture of sheer innocence.

You took a couple of calculated steps back & he followed, legs bumping against the chair. “Sure am. Now I’ve got a couple questions for you, Hiromi. There weren’t very clear notes left on my agenda; so what is it that I can do for you?” 

He clears his throat, obviously a little embarrassed by the question, but he gains a bit of confidence, meeting your eyes, saying, “Want you to jerk me off.” Okay, maybe he doesn’t gain that much confidence because he all but whispers his request, his plea. 

“What was that, Hiromi?” He shivers at the name, the way your tongue caresses it. “You want me to what?”

His face is all red, his tongue is all tied, his fingers are fidgeting with themselves, & he can’t meet your eyes when he says again, “Want you to r-rub my cock, jerk me off.” 

“Don’t know why you’re so embarrassed, sweetheart. Acting like I don’t want to.” You smile at him, saccharine & teasing, excited for the half-baked plan already forming in your head. Oh yeah, you’re gonna jerk him off alright, jerk him off ‘til he can’t take it anymore. The clock was ticking, & you were chomping at the bit to get a taste. “Can I kiss you?”

He nods, but makes no move to reciprocate, not until you’re pressing your lips against his, running your palms against the nape of his neck, down his chest, moving to loosen his tie, slide of his suit coat, unbutton his pants, palm his already stiffening cock, & he’s groaning into your mouth. 

“Can’t jerk off yourself, Hiromi? Gotta have some stranger do it?” you mock, sucking his bottom lip in between your teeth, biting. 

“N-never feels as good, can’t make myself cum as hard,” he babbles, fast, hoping his answer will please you enough to continue palming his cock through his underwear. You push him down into the chair, taking your sweet time to slip down onto your knees. If you were gonna be on your knees, night after night, you were gonna have to make Shiu put a bed in one of these rooms; a chair & the just wasn’t gonna cut it. But you'd make it work for tonight. You'd make Hiromi work tonight.

"Aww, s'so sad, don't you ever get yourself off?" You pause at the waistband of his underwear, a silent request, & he slides them down eagerly, helping you in any way he can.

"N-not like this," he pants, excited & worn already, though nothing's really happened quite yet. His pants & boxers came off quickly, & you're salivating by the time they do. He's all pretty & hard for you, & his dick is huge; not a surprise by how large he'd looked through his boxers, but a little shocking nonetheless. He all but yelps when you fist him at the base of his cock, hard, pushing all the precum from his weeping tip.

"Your tip is so sensitive, huh?" you coo, pressing your thumb hard into his slit until he’s attempting to run away from the pleasure. His eyes lock on yours, his mouth agape. 

“S-so sensitive, feels so good,” he whines, hips jerking to meet the lazy thrusts of your hand. 

How is he going to crawl back home to his fist, or even a pocket pussy, each night after this? After the tips of your nails scratch against his foreskin, after you trace each individual vein up & then down, after you squeeze the base of his cock, after your ghost your fingertips over his taint, after your grip your hand against his meaty thigh, holding him down so he can’t escape the pleasure you’re so intent on giving him? 

"Does that feel good, Hiromi? You're so wet down here,” you tease. He groans at your words, too focused on cumming to think of any sort of response, teasing & snarky or not. 

"Fuck, w-wait, please," he cries, the muscles in his thighs flexing & shaking as he tried not to get lost in his own sensitivity. You were just jerking him so fast; Hiromi was a methodical man in every way possible, including when he masturbated. He thought waiting for the high, edging himself for as long as possible, made the experience more enjoyable, but you weren’t taking it slow by any means. This might be the fastest he’s ever been able to finish. 

"God your hand feels so good, s’good,” he’s slurring his words, groaning as you keep your attention on his red, leaky tip, rubbing your thumb against the soft skin just under the head of his cock. “Gonna cum, gonna make me cum too fast.” 

“You can come, honey. Wanna make you cum, for me, please?”you encouraged,  & he’s shooting white, hot spurts of seed in your grasp before you even finish your sentence. 

Wow, he thinks to himself. I’ll definitely have to come back here again, see her again. The silly boy. . .he thinks you’re done. 

But you start stroking his softening cock again, bringing him back to attention disturbingly quickly. “H-hey wait, what’re you—what’re you doing? I just came, can’t—can’t come again!” But you ignore him because of course he can come again!

The sinful squelch echoes in his ears, his poor leaky cock is red & overstimulated & your hands aren’t helping;; if you didn’t stop, slow down soon, he was going to blow his load again, for the second time so quickly. helping echoing in his ears did very little to help him from blowing his load for the second time in five minutes. Your pretty, delicate, perfect hands were furiously stroking his cock, both of them wrapped around his length while you jerked him off using a screwing, twisting motion that made his legs shake & jerk. You made sure to pay extra special attention to his tip, rubbing your fingers down his frenulum each time you stroked him, making his body jolt & writhe in your soft grip. He’s truly putty in your hands. 

He moans helplessly, trying to process the unimaginable pleasure. He doesn’t usually mix his pleasure with this kind of pain, so maybe that’s why he’s cumming again, vulnerable & unable to stop himself. 

“it’s so much, oh my god it’s too much—hnggghhh—”

But you don’t stop, & why isn’t his cock getting soft, why does it feel so good, how are making him feel this way, why aren’t you stopping. . .

He can’t figure out what to do with his hands; maybe if he thought about it a little harder he could figure it out, but he can’t seem to focus on anything but the painfully sweet sensation of your hands, your lips on the tip of his cock, your fingers squeezing his balls, his cum coating everything, the twitching of his dick. He’s pulling his own hair with them, running them down his unbuttoned dress shirt, gripping the chair ‘til his knuckles turn white, holding on to your wrists for dear life, which does little to cease your ministrations with his pathetically weak grip on them. 

“Feels good, honey?” & you’re a real minx for that; of course it feels good, too good. Your voice is syrupy sweet, only adding to the deep ache in his balls. 

“N-no, no, s’too much, gotta stop it, can’t take anymore, gonna cum again, cummin’” he whines so pitifully, he’s shaking his head furiously, unable to form something coherent to say to you, anything to explain how fucking good your milking him. 

& at his complaints of “too much,” you’re squeezing him tighter in your hand, speeding up your stroking, he’s bucking up into your grip, lost in the feeling of it, unable to control the movements of his hips, trying to escape the pleasure, but he wants it so bad. 

“Ngh–no, m’gonna cum if you keep doin’ that, can’t cum again, c-can’t!”

“Can’t you? Don’t you want to? M’supposed to be makin’ you feel good, Hiromi. Don’t you wanna feel good?” If he had the ability to, he’d get you back for that, but there’s not a single thought running through his mind except for “feels good, feels good, feels good.” 

He can’t respond, only nods his head vigorously. He was leaking so much it’s difficult to say whether or not he’s cumming again, his body jolting around, face permanently twisted in sheer pleasure, sweet dripping down his temples, blushy red cheeks that match his angry tip. He’s just so pretty. He was previously trying to hold back in an attempt to. . .what? Impress you? Regardless, any ability to hold back is long gone

He was close, closer than you thought he was, & you really are impressed when he cums again for the third time, releasing a long whine of pain as his cum shoots into your hands again. 

When his cum finally slows down, you bring your finger up to his slit & start tracing it, coaxing more cum out of him, & he’s crying & whimpering, begging you stop, cock jumping into your hold begging you to continue; he grabs your wrists, hard this time, stopping you completely. 

“Aww, you’re all done? Can’t go another round for me?” Those eyes, he thinks, those eyes are going to be the death of him, if your hands don’t kill him first.

Night 2, complete.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

PART 3: BUSINESSMAN | coming soon to a theatre near you <3

[avatar-anna]

please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

August 2013

In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.

“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.

When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.

“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.

She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”

“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.

“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”

Y/n grinned. “Of course.”

“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.

Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.

Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"

Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.

"Hm."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.

"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.

Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."

"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."

Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.

"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.

Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."

"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.

"Do you not like flying?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."

"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.

"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."

"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."

His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.

Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.

"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."

And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”

“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”

“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.

"We're about to find out."

Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.

When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”

*.*

Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.

Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.

“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”

Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.

He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”

“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.

“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.

Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…

“I can cancel—”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.

She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.

“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“Next time, then,” she offered.

Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.

“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”

Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”

*.*

Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.

And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.

For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.

And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.

It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?”

It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.

“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”

“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”

Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.

So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.

“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”

That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.

Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.

Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.

*.*

The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.

"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."

After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.

[theoutcastwrites]

Belly kiss with whoever if you're up for it Ella <3

Of course! Thank you for the ask :) <3

Types of kisses list

Childe x Reader

[BELLY KISS] Love, care: a gesture of affection and protection.

The waves frothed as they doused the sands of Yaoguang Shoal in a slow, steady rhythm. An entrancing sight. It soothed you: the sound of the waves as they crashed onto the beach; the occasional squawk of the seagulls high above your head; the warm sunlight, which dried your damp skin and filled you with a tranquility you had been robbed of for so long.

Above all, your thoughts were silenced by Childe, whose head lay on your bare thighs.

Your legs were numb - had been for longer than you could count, now, but you refused to move. You doubted you would ever get the chance to be this close with him again; thus, like the greedy, greedy little thing that you were, you soaked in every bit of affection that Childe so selflessly offered.

The irony of your situation almost made you laugh. On the way to the shoal, Childe said, "it doesn't have to mean anything. We can just make this a friendly outing, yes?"

How quickly those words ceased to matter; moments later, you'd pulled him underwater to steal an illicit kiss, and he had eagerly reciprocated. You could still taste the salt on your lips. You hoped it would remain with you forever.

"Have you told anyone?"

You blinked - in confusion, at first, and then in slight disbelief. "No."

"Not even your friends?"

"No," you shook your head. "Am I supposed to?"

Childe peered at you. "Only if you want to. There's no pressure."

You eyed him for a moment. What sort of thoughts ran through his mind? He appeared much more thoughtful than usual - no longer was he the carefree, joyful Childe that you'd always known, but a quieter, softer version of himself. Was this the true him?

You wished you knew. This bond of yours never entailed something permanent. As you saw it, there was no love between you but a fervent longing for another's touch. The lines had been blurred for too long and you found it all too easy to get lost in the what-ifs - especially now. Each gift he brought awakened feelings that did not belong; each friendly outing left you wishing for something more.

Deep down, you wondered if Childe thought about it, too. About what had become of you, about what you could be.

Childe cleared his throat. "Your parents... do they live in the harbor?"

Your fingers stilled in his hair.

"Uh... No. Qingce village."

A beat of silence, and then, "it would be nice to visit, wouldn't it?"

Oh.

Suddenly unable to meet his gaze, you averted your eyes; had the sands of Yaoguang Shoal always been this interesting to stare at?

He must have known what he was doing to you - the naive hope his words evoked in you, the heat that spread to your cheeks at the mere implication. You swallowed nervously.

"Isn't it too soon?"

Childe chuckled in that charming, awkward way that you liked.

"Do you think so?" He asked. You dared to peek at him only to find that Childe was already staring at you. His eyes, gentle as the waves in the early morning, held a softness reserved just for you. Childe said, "I thought that we could..."

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest and you watched as Childe reached for your hand, still frozen in his drying hair. His touch was tender and sweet and every bit nerve-wracking - you didn't want him to ever let go.

"I thought that we could make it official," he murmured.

You opened your mouth in surprise. Every word in your head had dissipated, every thought had vanished into thin air. Childe took your stunned silence as a sign to continue.

"I'm going to leave Liyue soon and I know that it can be... difficult, to be with someone who's always away. I understand if this isn't something you want; we can be just friends if that makes things easier. But I..."

Childe swallowed, "I want to be yours. If you'll have me."

You swore your heart skipped a beat.

How could you ever say no to him? Having spent months meeting in secret, sharing sweet kisses in dark alleyways and exchanging meaningful glances in crowded rooms - how could Childe expect rejection after having cradled your heart in his hands for so long?

"I want that," you bit your lip, "I want you to be mine. It doesn't matter how long you'll be gone - I'll wait for you anyway. I promise."

You would have never said no - the wide smile on Childe's face reaffirmed that. His joy radiated off him in waves - spreading to you, making you break into a smile, too. He pulled your hand to his face, pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles.

"You really promise that?"

"Yes," you nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "I really promise."

Cheeks dusted pink, Childe turned sideways on the sand, muscles flexing with every movement. You weren't sure what to expect, at first; but then he wrapped his arms around your waist, and his lips found their way to the soft skin on your stomach. He kissed you slowly, sweetly, as if making a promise of his own, blind to the way his lips burned your skin.

You couldn't have asked for anything more.

[penelopepine]

I’m absolutely in love with your writing 💕

I’ve always had this scenario of Phillip and Reader (who are both first time parents) going out with their baby, and Reader having to breastfeed the baby in public and a man tries to harass her about it (telling her she shouldn’t be doing this in public and whatnot) and Phillip stands up for her

Maybe the man tries to harass her while Phillip was at the counter getting them something to eat and he hears what’s going on or something?

(Moms who are alone in public get bothered like this irl by men so often and it’d be so sweet to see Phillip standing up for his wife 🥺❤️)

Thank You!!! I hope that you like this as well!

It's weird that people get so bothered by breastfeeding. Like just let the mom feed her baby in peace.

Mind Your Own Business

Phillip Graves x Fem Reader

With the baby turning six weeks old just a few days ago you and Phillip both felt comfortable taking the baby out to more public spaces. It was a beautiful day out, and that of course led to you both walking around the farmer’s market with the little one in tow. 

Philip had both hands on the stroller while you had one hand wrapped around the crook of his elbow as you both walked around. It wasn’t until half an hour had passed did he insist on sitting down in one of the bakeries for a bite to eat. “Come on, let me treat my sweetheart to something sweet.” 

“I think it’s you who wants something sweet.” You give him a playful nudge as you walk towards the shop. 

“Who says it can’t be both?” Phillip counted your accurate remark. “I’m a man capable of many things after all.” 

Once in the shop looking at all the available options is when the little one decides to make a fuss. Glancing at the time you know she’s probably just hungry since this is about the time you would normally feed her when at home. 

“Oh, are you hungry baby?” You gesture for Phillip to let you take control of the stroller, “I’m going to take her outside and feed her. I saw a shaded bench right outside.” 

It’s obvious he doesn’t want to leave you both alone, but understands that that’s just his protective nature talking. That little voice has been speaking a lot more ever since the baby was born. “I’ll be there in just a few minutes; I’ll bring you one of those chocolate croissants I saw you eyeing too.” 

"I love you so much." You give him a small kiss, and swiftly make your way outside to the bench just as the baby starts to cry.

It only takes you a few moments to get comfortable, grab the now crying baby out of her stroller, and adjust her so that she can easily breastfeed from you. 

You take this time to admire the tiny wiggling bundle of joy in your arms. She truly is the perfect mix between you and Phillip - it almost feels like she’s not real sometimes with just how perfect she is. 

The baby's crying and wiggling finally starts to settle down as she latches on. Just as things seem to settle down you feel a sudden presence next to you. Thinking it was Phillip you look up with a smile on your face which quickly shifts into a frown as you take in the strange man now standing in front of you.

It was the look of anger and disgust on his face that had you gripping your daughter tight to you; trying to decide if you needed to get up, and walk away. Before you can make a move though the man is already practically spitting venom at you. “Do you really think that’s appropriate to be doing in public? Why don’t you go do that in the bathroom like you're supposed to do?” 

“I’m breastfeeding - I’m just feeding my baby.” Is your immediate response to his unpleasant questions. You knew some people didn’t like it when women breastfeed in public, but you didn’t think anyone would actually try and fight you about it. All you're doing is feeding a baby after all. 

“No, what you are doing is purposely exposing yourself to others around you. I mean my god woman could you not have the decency to atleast have a cover on?” 

“A cover? It’s 80 degrees out right now, and you want me to practically put a blanket over her?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing right now. Not to mention that you didn’t like using a cover; all it felt like was another thing you had to pack around and worry about. 

Arguing only seemed to be making the man more upset with you. As if you should be thankful that he was gifting you with his “amazing” advice on how and where you should be breastfeeding your baby. 

Red faced with a pointed finger raised, the man takes a large step closer to you. It genuinely seemed like he would have come even closer if he wasn’t so suddenly jerked away from you. 

“Now what do you think you're doing here bothering my wife and child?” There Phillip stood now in between the man and you. Finally, it felt like you could breathe again knowing that your husband was here to help you. 

Phillip was furious - that much was obvious even from where you sat with his back to you. His shoulders were tense, and his clenched fists looked like they were one wrong move from throwing a punch. 

“That’s your wife?” The man waves in your direction, “How about you tell your wife to cover up while in public.” 

The silence that follows after those words are deafening.

“Phillip,” You softly call out to your husband. As much as you would love to let him do whatever he sees fit you’d rather not have to be escorted off by police. 

You watch as Phillip slowly releases a sigh before he continues with his words to the man, “I'm not going to waste any more breath explaining just how stupid you sound right now. What I am going to say though is that if you don't walk away right now I'm going to beat the shit out of you, and I promise you that is a fight you don't want - not with me." 

The man clearly wasn't prepared for the outright threat of violence against him, and it showed on his now shocked face. People like him are all talk; just wanting to pick on someone seemingly weaker than him, and the second someone stronger stands up to him he's playing the victim. 

"Whatever," the man growls out before hastily turning on his heels and walking away further into the market. 

Phillip doesn't move from his position until the man has completely disappeared from view. When he does eventually turn around he puts one hand on your check and the other one cradles the baby's head before he asks you, "are you both alright?" 

"We're- we're alright. He didn't do anything besides give me a lecture." You're so thankful for that too, and luckily your daughter didn't seem to notice the tense situation that just occurred. "How did you know he was even here?" 

"You really didn't think I wouldn't be watching you while I was waiting inside did you?" Phillip looked much calmer now that it was just the three of you again. "Which reminds me I still need to pick our order up. Now let me help you pack up; there's no way I'm leaving you alone to get harassed again." 

Normally you would have insisted that you were alright to stay where you were, but right now all you wanted was to stay by his side. This encounter has really rattled you more than you thought. 

It only takes Phillip a few seconds to get everything back in the baby bag. The baby is still feeding from you as you both walk back to the bakery. In the silence you can’t help, but ask a question that has been bothering you. “Do you think I should … hide away when I need to breastfeed in public?" 

"Sweetheart, don't let one dumb fucker stop you from feeding our baby when she's hungry. You have the right to breastfeed anywhere you damn want to."

"You're right, you're right," He was right, this one experience shouldn't stop you from going out and enjoying things with your baby.

Phillip reached out and gave you a quick peck as he opened the bakery door, "besides I'll always be there to defend my girls." 

[bigslutr]

Yelena Lock & Ellie Sallow

Prompt?: Darling being sick for around 2 weeks and gets worried before calling an old friend from highschool which is Yelena. But when Yelena takes interest in Darling and Ellie cannot stand.

-_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_--_-_-

It’s been two weeks. Two long, painful weeks of watching my angel struggle. I've done everything I can, getting someone to run to the store for medicine, ordering my cooker to make her soup and staying by their side when their fever spikes. But its not enough. They’re still weak, still not themselves, and my heart hurts everytime they wince or turn away from me.

I hate it. I hate not being able to fix this.

I sit on the edge of the bed, brushing their damp hair away from my worry etched on my face. My angel smiles fainty, it makes my heart race but it was only a shadow of the smile I loved. “You’re doing great Ellie,” They whisper, their voice weak and tied. But i know they’re just saying that to make me feel better.

I bite my lip, feeling the frustration coil tighter in my chest. I need to do something. I can’t lose them. Not to this. I won’t.

That’s when it hits me. Yelena.

My stomach twists at the thought. I haven’t talked to her in years, not since high school. But she’s in medical school now, training to be a doctor. Maybe she’ll know what to do. Maybe she can help.

I glance at Y/N. They’re so fragile right now, so vulnerable. I can’t bear it. I have to do whatever it takes to make them better, even if it means calling Yelena.

I quietly slip out of the room and grab my phone, my fingers trembling as I scroll through old contacts. Her name pops up, and for a second, I hesitate. I’ve always hated how perfect she seemed, how calm, how patient, how she always had this air of control. I know she’ll come in, take over, and make me feel small.

But I push that feeling down and hit the call button. It rings twice before she picks up, her voice bright and warm on the other end.

“Ellie? Wow, it’s been forever! What’s up?”

I forced a smile, even though she couldn't see it. “Hey, Yelena. Yeah, it has. Listen, I... I need your help.”

There’s a pause. “Help? With what?”

I take a deep breath. “It’s my Significant Other. They’ve been sick for a while, and... I don’t know what else to do. Could you... maybe come and take a look at them?”

She agrees almost too quickly. “Of course! I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

I hang up, staring at the phone in my hand. It feels wrong. I’ve always taken care of Y/N on my own. Now, I’ve invited someone else into our space, her and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve made a mistake.

Yelena arrives the next morning, a bundle of energy and smiles. Y/N perks up the moment they see her, which sends a pang straight through my chest. I try to push it down, but it’s hard when they’re looking at her like that.

“I’m so glad you called me, Ellie,” Yelena says, brushing past me like I’m an afterthought. She heads straight for Y/N, checking their temperature, asking them questions, all while giving them that sweet smile of hers.

“Thank you for coming,” Y/N says, their voice so much lighter than it’s been with me. “I’ve been worried, but Ellie’s been great.”

I know they mean it, but Yelena’s eyes flick to me, and I catch the hint of something…pity? maybe? Or is it amusement? I can’t tell, but I hate it.

Yelena quickly takes control, slipping into the caretaker role as if it were made for her, and Y/N lets her. They trust her. Every time Yelena touches them, I see Y/N relax in a way they haven’t with me in days. I can feel the distance growing, as if with every touch, Yelena pulls them further from me. But I can’t stop it. Not when Y/N is smiling, even if it's because of her.

The days blur together with Yelena by Y/N’s side more often than I am. She’s always there, her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, her voice soft and reassuring. I feel like a ghost in my own home, watching from the sidelines while they build something…something I’m not a part of.

During the quiet moments when Yelena leaves to “grab more supplies” or to take a break, I seize my chance. As soon as she’s gone, I slip into Y/N’s room. They’re still lying there, looking pale but awake. I sit on the edge of the bed, brushing their hair back gently.

“Hey,” I whisper. “It’s just us now.”

They smile, a small, weary thing, but it’s still there. I hold onto it, like it’s proof that I still have a place with them. I need that reassurance, even though it feels fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

“How’re you feeling?” I ask, though it’s a question I’ve asked a hundred times before.

“Better,” they say softly. “Yelena’s really been helping.”

It’s always Yelena now. That name sticks in my throat, the way they say it, like she’s some miracle.

“I’ve been trying, too,” I add, my voice almost too quiet. “I’ve been doing my best.”

They glance at me, their hand reaching out to squeeze mine. “I know, Ellie. You’ve been amazing.”

But it feels empty, like they’re just saying it to make me feel better. I look at them, studying their face. The light in their eyes that had dimmed during those awful weeks is flickering back—but it’s not because of me. It’s because of her.

When I hear Yelena’s voice outside, talking on the phone, probably getting more advice or prescriptions from her colleagues, my body stiffens. I quickly press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead before pulling away. I have to make them remember—it’s me who’s been there through everything.

“I’ll get you some water,” I mutter, retreating before Yelena can walk in and reclaim her spot beside them.

When Yelena’s gone, I fight. I sit with Y/N, talk to them, bring them their favorite snacks, anything to keep them focused on me. But it never feels like enough. It’s like Yelena’s shadow lingers, even when she isn’t physically there. Y/N’s eyes glaze over sometimes, like they’re waiting for her to come back.

The next morning, I wake up early, earlier than Yelena for once, and make breakfast. Pancakes—Y/N’s favorite. I set the table, making sure everything is perfect, hoping for some alone time before Yelena swoops in.

Y/N smiles when I bring the tray to them, but it doesn’t reach their eyes. They take a bite, but I can tell they’re not really hungry.

“This is really sweet, Ellie,” they say, pushing the plate aside after just a few bites. “Thank you.”

I force a smile. “I just want you to feel better.”

As if on cue, the front door swings open and Yelena steps in, holding a bag of supplies. “Morning!” she chirps, her eyes bright and full of energy.

Y/N’s face lights up, and my heart sinks. The food on the table, my effort—it’s like it all disappears the second Yelena walks in. I watch her sit beside Y/N, easily picking up where I left off, as if I wasn’t even there.

Yelena’s laughter fills the room, and Y/N leans into her presence, their mood lifting effortlessly. My throat tightens. I feel like I’m suffocating, trapped in the space between them, like some kind of outsider.

The worst part? Yelena’s so... nice. She doesn’t flaunt her place in Y/N’s life, doesn’t throw it in my face. She’s sweet, caring, patient—the exact opposite of how I feel right now. And that makes it even harder to fight her.

But I keep trying. Every time Yelena steps out, I rush in to take her place. I pour Y/N water, fluff their pillows, brush their hair, desperate to reclaim my spot in their heart. And every time, Y/N smiles, but it feels smaller, more distant.

I can’t stand it.

Late one evening, after Yelena’s left for the night, I sit beside Y/N in the dimly lit room. The house is quiet except for the steady ticking of the clock. I reach for their hand, squeezing it gently.

“Y/N, do you... do you still need me?” The question escapes before I can stop it.

They look at me, surprised, like the thought never crossed their mind. “Of course I do, Ellie. Why would you even ask that?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “It’s just... ever since Yelena came, it feels like... like I’m not enough anymore.”

Their expression softens, but there’s a hesitation that wasn’t there before. “You’ve always been enough. You’ve been taking care of me all this time.”

But it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like they believe it. And I don’t either.

Because every time Yelena walks through the door, Y/N’s eyes light up in a way they never do for me anymore.

Later that night, I find myself standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the knife block. I’m not going to do anything, of course. I’m not that kind of person. I wouldn’t hurt anyone... would I?

But the thought lingers, gnawing at me, and when I hear Yelena’s voice from the other room, laughing softly with Y/N, I wonder just how far I’ll have to go to keep them safe.

Because Y/N is mine. And I won’t lose them. Not to Yelena. Not to anyone.

[poppiesforthirteen]

sappy hours don't look at me

[d8tl55c]

oh boy !! ! ! ! !!! ! thANK y0u all for the kind words on my last art posts. you all get it and i was/still am so happy about it

as promised, here's some close-ups of the comic for image quality's sake, and other screenshots i rescued from the community whiteboard (and something else)

first up another sketch of mystery gender-ambiguous being. (please send me more name ideas for them if you got one- i like to hear em! (reminder it's the side character that appeared for <10 seconds in AvM Ep. 30))

a few fav scenes

emotional support cwab

they weren't meant for this purpose exactly, but i do have countless "fluffy sticks" loose in my notes and homework sheets from the school years.

papery critter.

even when i wasn't confident in fur or feathers, they helped me practice posing and create some satisfying gradients/flowing poses. (im a sucker for good tail poses) (oh yay! i found a good pic...)

and finally, little sneak peak for you for reading so far ;3

i realized that whiteboardfox is pretty great for my working needs. simple and to the point and all. feels nice with the mouse and the tablet.

so i started hashing out a big project idea just to see if it holds up and

[

several hours later ...

]

oh

oh man

it's a little bigger than i expected

<next>

[szappan]

im also increasingly sure that im autistic but we'll never ever confirm that </3

[goldiipond]

was provided with a rough translation of one of the 4th light novels' chapters by bestie rachel fullscoreshenanigans so im dumping a small compilation of don moments that made me chew a hole through my wall

[primofate]

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Click here.

Consider supporting me to read some exclusive fics:

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Here's the masterlist:

Masterlist

[belovedmusings]

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’. 

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks. 

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners. 

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained. 

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him. 

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing. 

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out. 

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you. 

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more. 

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes. 

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins. 

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you. 

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way. 

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it. 

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure. 

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out. 

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

__

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.

[bunnys-kisses]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[rubys-domain]

okay, 232 scouts. i think i'm going at a pretty good pace