#there's definitely things I want to know more about...I think it's going to be a series? the only thing explicitly mentioned is a prequel

[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a description of how caleb, zayne, and sylus jerk off and if they watch porn

☆ a/n: I have officially decided all the boys are virgins, so i feel it's only right to write about them yearning for you but also being overcome with guilt <3

☆ Caleb

Caleb has spent so long secretly admiring you, adoring you. All he wants is for you to like him the same—but Caleb is patient. Caleb understands long-suffering and is willing to wait for you. He won’t force you to come to him. You have to want it—this, as he does. With this being said, for a long time, he will not watch porn. He’ll feel bad like he’s betraying you—like you’ll know he lusted after another person. 

When you both go to college, he’d spend more time away from you for the first time, and he wouldn’t even dare to think about letting another woman touch him. He’d even have you act as a liaison, discouraging others from approaching him romantically. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t heard stories of what his friends were doing in bed, the fantasies they were living out—now he was curious. 

He’s not a boy anymore, and this is different—it’s educational, he’d tell himself. When the video loaded, a woman, blindfolded, a vibrator pressed between her folds. Teasing her clit gently. The blush spread on his face furiously as he felt himself getting hard. He watched as she writhed against the toy, but not daring to close her legs as her partner commanded. He could feel the heat spreading across his neck—taking mental notes. He would love to do this to you.

Though he had no experience, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make love to you so good you’d never want to leave. He’d read books and look at fanart, especially of things you like. If you tell him about the latest manhwa you’re reading, best believe he's going to study that shit like no other. You read romance? Well, now he does, too. 

He might even have a whole notepad. Seeing what works, what he likes, what he thinks you might like. He knows you well enough to guess, though he’d definitely ask you directly. 

But when Caleb touches himself, he’d do it with a stolen pair of panties. Sometimes, the washer would eat your socks, underwear, and towels, which was nothing new.

Now, speaking of guilt, he knows this is horrible for him, but he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. But when Caleb saw the pair, unwashed and forgotten in the washer, he couldn’t help but pick them up and stuff them in his pocket. Now he closes his eyes, stroking himself slowly, the underwear in his mouth to muffle the noises from his lips, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. He decided this would do. Using little pieces of you to get himself off. 

He would think of the times before college when he could hear your muffled moans and breaths coming from your room late at night and secretly press his head against your shared wall, trying to listen to you better. He couldn’t wait to use his newfound knowledge on you. He’s just eagerly waiting. 

☆ Zayne

Zayne wants to be romantically involved with you. He desires—yearns for it. But he knows that's not the current state of your relationship and will respect the pace at which you want to take things. His busy life keeps him occupied. He almost relies on it to monopolize his attention since he can’t give it all to you. But it doesn’t stop the guilt he feels—watching porn. 

It takes a lot for him actually to touch himself. He won’t do it often. Yet. It would be an actual internal conflict for him. When he finally decided he was going to watch porn, he would make it quick. The cold metal of his phone in his hand, the dark screen reflecting at him, would almost snap Zayne out of it—but he’s currently wrapped up in his lust. Even so, he still feels like he’s being unfaithful to you—the idea of you more accurately. 

He’ll decide only to watch one while allowing the video to load. He’s just desperate to get off at the moment. It’s almost painful, the way his cock is straining against his slacks. Lately, waiting or sleeping it off hasn’t been working. He’d been so pent up that Zayne stayed hard the whole drive home, and now he gave in. 

It's a short video, but fuck it was hot. The woman squirmed underneath her partner. And Zayne’s pupils blew wide when he saw him suck on her clit, and he could hear the *pop* of his lips detaching from her folds. The groan that fell from her lips when he pushed his tongue inside her—how his arms kept her legs pinned down, though her hips bucked upwards. 

He wanted to do that to you badly. So bad that he closed his eyes, his head thrown back, his lips parted as he leaned back in the chair, jerking himself fast. He had to have you—he couldn’t take it anymore. And he came so fucking hard, and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw the come all over his slacks.

But the guilt was quickly spreading through his chest. It almost feels like he has desires towards the people in the video, but honestly, all he wants is you. He’s never even touched another woman—but still, he felt mortified at the idea that you’d look at him and know what he was doing late at night, imagining it was you there.  

He would never touch another woman. You are all he has wanted since he was a child. Even back then, he only wanted to be connected to you, keeping other girls at a distance even into his adulthood. But maybe now that was catching up to him.

☆ Sylus

Sylus is patient—but only with you. He’d been frustrated for a while. Between your apparent hatred of him and the chaos in the N109 zone, it was slowly eating away at him. Still, no matter how adamant you were about holding your grudge, he’d never be angry with you. Disappointed? Maybe. But never angry.

He loved the game you were playing but wanted—needed—more of you. You were bonded to him, whether you realized it or not. Fated. And the longer you pretended to hate him, the more amused he became. Sylus knew your walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

Like the patient man he is, he waited. Even as you kept those walls standing, even as you unknowingly softened him in ways he never expected—he never sought out distractions. He wouldn’t watch porn. He didn’t need to. First of all, he was busy. Running a city, being a crime boss. You know, important stuff.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t come home late at night, exhausted, missing you. That he didn’t lie in bed on his stomach, the ache of longing settling deep. He might even pull a pillow beneath him, letting it fill the empty space—imagining it was you.

He’d press his weight into it, wishing it were your body beneath him instead. His breath would hitch, a flush burning its way across his cheeks as he rutted against it, slow at first, then more desperate. His fingers would twist into the sheets, knuckles white, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer.

He just felt so desperate. The need for you—your touch, your claim—clawed at his chest, leaving him raw. And when he finally came, hips stuttering in one last, shaky grind, a tear would slip from the corner of his eye.

Sylus doesn’t cry often—if at all. But the thought of you never choosing him? That breaks him.

[owo-writing-man]

So as someone who was a girl at the time. Wrestling in a "male" sport. It is soley because of egos (and the culture that made those egos. These men only have it because they were raised with it) . I did wrestling starting at 4. People were like "once you hit puberty men will beat you more"

While yes the men had more muscle than me. ( I was never a muscle person) I had skill. And also they were the same weight as me. They just had different proportions. Which happens all the time. I won as much as I lost. Which was pretty normal for my entire career. I was really good at not losing. Not the best at winning. Y'know.

Like one time I pinned a guy I had been wrestling with my entire life. (In an official match and not just at practice) and he then had a breakdown out in the hallway. Despite having wrestled with me for years AND knowing I had been wrestling longer than him. He thought he would just win by pushing me around. He wasn't that skilled. I had told him multiple times in practice he wasn't going to win by using his strength against opponents. He was a new wrestler maybe wrestling for a year or two. I gave him advice and guidance.

Not a small majority of my wrestling career was winning medals and matches because coaches refuse to put their boys against a girl (elementary) and then the boys refusing themselves (middle to high school)

It's sorta a cultural thing. Cause those elementary boys weren't not wrestling because they didn't wanna wrestle a girl. It's because their dads didn't want them to wrestle girls.

And anytime I did wrestle a boy two things would happen. I would win and his teammates would bully him. Or he would win and his teammates wouldn't congratulate him cause he beat a girl and that is the normal expected thing to do.

Like I sorta felt bad for any guy who had the decency to actually wrestle me. He was putting a lot on the line socially anytime he did. And that's respectable. I think it's such a cultural thing and I don't wanna blame the individual. I sorta wanna give them applause for going against the culture like that.

(Not that fucking bad if they broke down afterwards cause then they only did it since they believed I was gonna lose cause u was a girl. I'm talking about the decent guys who put what they had on the mat and left with sportsmanship win or lost)

It could also be any forfeit was counted as a loss on your record and if you're trying to go to college with this you don't wanna recorded losses.

It's definitely a cultural and ego thing.

call me ignorant but i genuinely don’t understand why sports have to be split up by gender.

[norikuna]

DAYLIGHT! ☓ ── ( 呪術廻戦, multi )

⌗ valentines day with the sorcerer you love <3

ᯓ starring ─ jjk ensemble cast : gojo, geto, nanami, choso, sukuna, toji, ino, kashimo, hiromi

𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 ; x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. sfw. wc ⌓. 2k. art, sea_Pall

﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ probably the type to pretend that he's forgotten valentines day to mess with you, acting clueless all morning. but he's dropping the entire extravagant surprise later for sure, including a red rose bouquet that could pay a month of rent, all your favourite chocolates and fireworks ! pretends not to sniffle and tear up when you give him your own gift, because for all his bravado it means a lot to him that you love him just as much. he just wants to see you happy, and he puts serious effort into making valentines day special, even if he hides it behind jokes and teasing. got a custom-made gift, something like a charm bracelet with small jewels and charms that represent all your favourite things. also the type to do shit like buying you a star in your name, right next to his because he thinks the idea of cosmic soulmates is so romantic. late at night, when it's just the two of you, he drops the jokes and tells you, 'you're the best part of my life, y'know.' and he means that with all his heart.

﹙ 夏油 傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ complains about valentines day a bit, because he doesn't see what's so different about feb 14, but he still indulges it. if you're bad at giving gifts, he'll pretend to love whatever you give him, even if it's...awful. he prefers quality time over material gifts honestly, and he plans a quiet date where he can spend as much time as possible with you, over tea or expensive wine. but that's not to say that he doesn't put effort into a gift. it's definitely thoughtful and catered to your taste, and probably more sentimental instead of flashy (like chasing down your favourite author with rainbow dragon just to get an autograph on a copy of your favourite book). clasps your hands with his to kiss you, and tell you that he loves being with you because you give him peace.

﹙ 両面 宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ "why would i celebrate a human holiday?" but when you woke up, there was a velvet box beside you on your pillow, and he acts like he has no idea how it got there ('oh, it was just uraume, it wasn't me' and then he goes and gets all upset when you go thank uraume instead). he doesn't get the idea of giving flowers either, because well, they all die in the end right? but he knows they make you happy, so he's still chasing after the prettiest bouquet he can find. he'll never admit it, but he's obsessively protective over you, so the fact that he's even acknowledging valentines day means that you're special to him. the type to haul around a box of a hundred doves so you can open it as a surprise, and watch as all these birds fly all over your apartment. late at night, when no-one's around, he traces circles on your wrist and tells you that he doesn't do love, but whatever this is, he doesn't want it to end.

﹙ 七海 建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ he tries to be serious about valentine's day, but gojo keeps texting him ridiculous gift ideas that keep fucking with his composure. if you surprise nanami with something romantic, he'll turn slightly pink and peachy, and say that 'this is unnecessary' but he won't stop smiling the rest of the day (#needthat). even though he's not a fan of big celebration, he wants you to feel appreciated. he probably goes down the classic route of a perfectly planned dinner, your favourite flowers, and a handwritten card -> the type of husband material where he attends one of those artsty card making/flower pressing classes just to make something for you with his own hands. when he pulls you close at the end of the night, he whispers to you that he doesn't need a special day to remind him of how much he loves you.

﹙ 伏黒 甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ he asked what you wanted for valentines day and you said that you wanted him oiled up in the dining table. and toji's the type to lowk take that seriously, because that's kinda cost effective for him too. but he does genuinely try to do something nice and heads over to a shopping centre of stores that are way out of his pay grade, and tries to bat his pretty, green eyes into some type of discount. the sales assistants don't argue with a man built like an mma fighter wandering around the jewellery section. even if the two of you don't go out, he wants you to feel safe and secure, and he'll keep an arm around you all day. after everything toji's been through, you're the one thing that makes him feel human again. "i didn't think i'd ever have this," he tells you, holding you against him.

﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ doesn't quite the holiday, and choso just wonders if it's some sort of human ritual that he's not quite grasping. tries way too hard to make it perfect, but it's all the more endearing. choso was convinced he could handle a homemade dinner, but he burnt it so bad that gordan ramsey would have a stroke. but he was determined to bullshit his way through it, "what do you mean, babe? this is how it's meant to taste." all said with a straight face, the gall! picks out flowers based on their meanings because he wants them to represent all the real love and feelings in his heart. he's such a pda type of guy, always clinging to you and intertwines your fingers with his as he leads you around. definitely sees you as the most precious thing in the world, and he just cannot believe he has someone as incredible as you <3

﹙ 猪野琢真 : ino takuma ﹚ ─ is determined to figure out valentines day himself, without getting advice from other people (like nanami) but in the end, he finds himself tweaking out and trying to plan the perfect day for you. accidentally bought something that was really cute, little and bejewelled because he thought it would look gorgeous on your neck. didn't realise until afterwards that he picked it up from the pet accessory tub, and desperately hopes you don't realise. he spends the whole day just wanting to make you laugh, because if you're happy, he's happy. even if he does mess something up, it's just endearingly sweet and he makes up for it with pure enthusiasm. he gets all soft and melty when you reciprocate his feelings, and he tells you that he knows he's not perfect, but you make him want to be better.

﹙ 鹿紫雲 : hajime kashimo ﹚ ─ he kind of has a reputation to keep up, and rolls his eyes at the mention of valentines day. but no-one knows that back in the day (aka, the edo period in the 1600s) he was actually into things like poetry and courtly love. unfortunately, he's also an adrenaline junkie and you regret showing him the movie 'twisters' because he truly thinks storm chasing is a fun and romantic activity. he goes out and buys you something that he knows you'll actually use, more practical sort of gifts. he actually tries to go and pick flowers for you himself, instead of buying them. tries to act smug and above it all, but gets all nervous and twitchy when you compliment him and gift him something in return. almost started sweating and getting a headache when you told him that you loved him because he realised that now he actually has to be equally open about his (equal) feelings. of course, you know that hajime does love you but you just think its funny watching him go nauseous and pale at the idea of emotional vulnerability. its good to let the cocky man sweat a bit, good for character building.

﹙日車寛見 : higuruma hiromi ﹚ ─ a classy man (want him) and he treats valentines day with plenty of elegance. he's definitely secured an expensive and well-thought out gifts like a rare book, perfume, or a beautiful fountain pen (or all three). he takes you out to a fancy jazz bar, where he treats you to the prettiest cocktails and kisses your hand softly. he's surprisingly affection behind closed doors, and purrs when you run your fingers through his dark hair. also goes pretty shy when you flirt with him and get ridiculously affection, like he's pulling on his tie and trying to hide the red flush on his neck. your valentines day with hiromi ends with you and him laughing over a glass of pricey wine. he thought he was so clever for writing you a little note like 'roses are red, violets are blue, if you ever get arrested, i'll be there for you :)'

[maudie-duan]

Summary: If you love me right, then who knows, I might let you make me Juno...Harry’s is the hot owner of a coffee shop you frequent. What are the odds he’s been dying to get your number??? A/N: Shout out to @howling-wolf97 for the request!! From my new Sabrina Series: Harry One Shots inspired by lyrics from our favorite little icon, Sabrina Carpenter.

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Word Count: 10.2k

Warning: 18+ fluff/smut

Marie: Dude, is that for real? 

Y/N: Yes! Like we were talking, and for some reason, I felt bold and was like, prove it. 

Marie: Wow! Very bold for my prude whittle bb. 

Y/N: Omg, dude, I’m not a prude. I’m just shy, and honestly, I’m so proud of myself. He makes me so freaking nervous. He’s so fuuuuuucking hot. 

Marie: God bless his dad’s genetics! 🍆🍆🍆

Y/N: I know!! The whole package! 

Marie: He’s practically offering it up on a silver platter, bitch. You better hop on that…like for real! That’s the kind of dick for freaky shit…lol. 

Y/N: You’re annoying. Yeah, he seems very sure of himself, like it’s almost intimidating. I feel like there’s no guessing. He hasn’t really pushed the sex thing. That part was just random. That was the first time we talked about it. Do you think I’m objectifying him by sending you that? Fuck, I just got excited.

Marie: Definitely, but only if you tell him you did it, and it sounds like he wants you! Omg! now you have someone to try those pink fuzzy handcuffs with…the ones I bought you for Christmas. 

Y/N: Maybe…who knows? 

Marie: Maybe he was warning you, preparing you for what’s to cuuuummm! And that’s you, girl! 

Y/N: Jesus.

Marie: Just saying…

Y/N: I have to go! I’m about to grab some coffee. I hope his hot ass is working!! 

Marie: Maybe he’ll make you come a latte…

Y/N: I hate you! bye!

Marie: You love me, and I’m happy you finally have someone decent on your radar! I’m sure he adores you, and you’re just overthinking it. Just talk to him. Text me if you see him. I want to know everything! 

You saw him the second you walked into the coffee shop—It only took you ten minutes to hype yourself up enough to walk inside, but here you were. 

In the midst of your prep talk, after you sorted through all the possible scenarios, you decided the best thing you could do was place a mobile order, that way if he wasn’t there, you could be in and out, but as soon as your eyes landed on the mobile counter Harry, your boy wonder barista, was chatting up some cute blonde, her friend standing close by. 

You could relate to the friend, staring doe-eyed, a stargazed smile playing at her mouth, and as you watched, you imagined that if her long hair was freed from her high ponytail, she would be twirling the long strands around her finger, tossing it over her shoulder every time her friend laughed, or Harry’s eyes moved to hers. She had that desperate third-wheel energy, and although you knew the feeling, the second-hand embarrassment gutted you from across the room, your insides crawling up as you witnessed the blonde let out a screechingly high laugh, one that felt way too forced, almost halting you in place as you made your way over to the counter, and you tried not to make a face.

This wasn’t the first time you had noticed pretty stragglers, the girls that lingered a little too long, and being the owner of this shop, he had an effortless way of collecting them, you chalking it up to good customer service because he was always going to need the business. You knew you could never be mad about this part because it was part of his livelihood. 

Especially when, as soon as you were in Harry’s line of sight, his eyes found yours, a broad smile spreading across that gorgeous face, and dammit, if you weren’t dying to follow through with whatever he may have been implying the other night.

Because shit, when he sent you that pic, his rock-hard cock standing tall, and those fucking tattoos marking his v-cut. He had your head spinning. You weren’t even a dick pic, girl, and there you were drooling over the thought of that dick inside you, and honestly, you weren’t even sure why you asked for a picture in the first place—a dick is just a dick in your book, but there was something about just knowing, that horny thought tickling the back of your mind any time you saw him standing behind that coffee bar. 

The strange part was that you hadn’t even talked to him since. That was four days ago, and for some reason, you were too scared to speak to him. I guess there were other reasons: you had been busy with work, starting that new internship—more like a glorified assistant position—the first two days were long and grueling, and it gave you a few extra days to sit on the thought, but then you realized texting back would make it real, right? What kind of response was he expecting? 

It was late when he sent the picture, so it was understandable if you had fallen asleep, but you also weren’t sure if you not responding, pivoted the vibe, and now there was only one way to find out.

Yes, you were, without a doubt, interested, but you had been out of the dating game for a while; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex. It would be nice; he could definitely break you in, clear the cobwebs, pick you up, and dust you off because a toy can only do so much, and lately, you’ve only been taking it out on special occasions…whatever that means.

And let’s be real; you’ve been doing anything to justify your barren behavior. Who even needs a special occasion to get off? What were you turning into? You were getting way too comfortable in your independent ways, and while that’s great for most, it was okay to loosen the reigns every once in a while and get your metaphorical “dick sucked” because you deserved it; you deserved this, and as you reach the counter, Harry is pulling your drink toward him, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, while the blonde talks at him. 

“Unfortunately, I have very little free time these days, but I can definitely ask the crew if they’re interested in any…was it pilate classes?” He asks the blonde as her flirty smile falters ever so slightly, almost giving herself away, and your eyes move back to your drink, now clasped in his hand on the counter.

“Here, why don’t I get your number…I can, like, send you the info or something…” and you have to admit, it was smooth, the perfect segway to land the cute coffee shop owner’s number. 

Then your eyes flick to Harry, who’s patting his pockets, searching for his phone, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “You know what? I don’t have my phone…”

And just when you think he’s distracted, you reach forward across the counter, ready to swipe your drink and run, but he’s quick, strangely aware of your presence, and he snatches up the drink, a smile on his face as he says, “Maybe Jen at the register has a pen and paper you can write it down…” Then his eyes sweep to yours, sending you a wink—a fucking wink, and you have to stop your jaw from dropping because as soon as the blonde picks up on the interaction, she scoffs under her breath and looks over at her friend.

“Hi…” He says, giving you his full attention, and from the corner of your eyes, you can see the blonde standing there dumbfounded, maybe rarely getting rejected because you can definitely tell that’s a pilates body, the perfect canvas for her matching Lululemon set, and when her friend tugs on her arm, you bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile.

“I’m here to pick up a mobile order…” you tell him, fainting innocence because, after all, you were the one that never texted him back.

Harry looks down at the drink in his hand, “Hmmm…did you order a grande London Fog with oat milk, no vanilla, sub brown sugar…” and Jesus, the way he says sugar makes you want to lick your lips, the word glazing over his tongue; that British drawl never getting old.

“Embarrassingly enough, yes…but it sounds ridiculous when it’s said out loud like that, shhhhh….” you say, reaching for your drink, but he only pulls it further out of reach. He’s in a playful mood this morning, and you can tell he’s not holding a grudge for your sudden onset of silence because it was kind of sudden.

After you ran into each other at that John Mayer concert, the one your sister forced you to go to—You only remembered a few of his songs from childhood, the ones your sister played to death, so you spent that night drinking, pregaming before the show, you know, being a supportive sister until her boyfriend decided to come at the last minute, making you the tag along.

As soon as the music started playing, it wasn’t that bad. The whole set was acoustic, his smooth voice echoing off the stone mountains, the weather perfect as the stars twinkled above, and really, it was the perfect concert to sit cozied up to your boyfriend so you couldn’t be too mad at your sister because it was nice seeing her this happy. So, when you snuck away to use the bathroom, you weren’t expecting to run into your favorite hot barista, and what are the odds that he would be alone? 

He was standing in line for a drink, and you were just tipsy enough to follow through with a, “Oh hey…Harry, right?” like an idiot because you definitely didn’t know him like that, and surely it was weird on your part, approaching him like you had ever formally introduced yourself. 

Every transaction you guys have ever had was him being friendly because it was his job, right? Like for example, you knew his name only because he wore a name tag, not because you’ve ever taken the time to ask him, and maybe he’s asked you a few questions here and there, but you had seen him do that plenty of time, whether you were waiting in line or sitting in the cafe before you finished school, you know, a friendly shop owner trying to get business and that’s what you thought, but then he called you by name, and this was new because you couldn’t remember if you had actually heard him say it directly to you—you would have remembered the way it fell from his perfect lips as you watched his dimples dip into his cheeks.

And once you got over the initial shock of him knowing your name, him clearing the air, trying to play it down, telling you he sees a lot of regulars out and about, you said, “I guess I thought I flew under the radar…” which was silly, because what the fuck did you mean by that and what did you know about planes, then he laughed and told you:

“I’ve definitely noticed you on many occasions…” As a clever smile turned up the corners of his mouth, you felt it: the heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks warming as his eyes swept over your face, stealing your focus, and it was sudden, his effect as the noise began to fade—a head rush—then the world started slowing down around you, your heart echoing in your ears. When he smiled, he licked his lips, and you watched as that smile spread into a knowing grin, and just like that, you were hooked, like magnets, for the rest of the night.

Then, somehow, it was all smooth sailing, and that’s the part that gets you later when you look back on that night. It was like a miracle from the fucking universe because what were the chances—and when he offered to buy you a drink, and you found out he was there by himself, you felt brave enough to ask if he wanted to join you because fuck being the third wheel when you had a chance to chat up the hot-ass coffee shop owner. 

You couldn’t believe your luck. How many times did Harry lean over and whisper in your ear? His deep voice like velvet brushing down your spine, and each time, Harry inched closer and closer until you were shoulder to shoulder. With every movement he made, you felt him—hyper-aware of everything, all the little detail as John Mayer practically set the mood, him ending the concert with ‘Your Body Is A Wonderland,’ and thank the fucking stars up above because, dammit, if that song hasn’t become Harry’s theme song in your head because nothing else will do because now you would have that moment forever, floating across your memory.

When Harry politely placed his hand on your knee, whispering, “We should exchange numbers….” as John said his thanks, wishing everyone a good night, you sat there wishing you could end this night with Harry’s lips on yours.

Maybe in another universe, Harry would have kissed you goodnight, but you were with your sister, and you had already made plans with her. So when sister tried to play matchmaker and invite him to join you guys after, he graciously declined, telling you guys he had to open in the morning, and that’s when you realized you were actually okay with his not joining. You needed time to digest this evening, mull it over until it was real, and as you floated still on a high from the evening to the car, there you were, sending him a text just before your phone died.

That night, as you crawled into bed hours later, still riding that same high. Harry’s face was fresh on your mind, familiar but in a new light. 

All you could think about were those fleeting moments when you guys traded phones—Both of you entering each other’s numbers as you stole a quick glance at Harry’s shakey fingers, typing away at your keyboard—There was something so vulnerable about the idea of your phone being in his hand, of you holding his, an act of trust right off the bat, you thought as you plugged in your phone— a hazy daydream of Harry’s fingers playing out, picturing his yellow nails, each one marked with a happy face, and it’s exactly how you felt, how he made you feel.

Because how did it happen? And when your phone came back to life, there was his name, Harry Styles, a message setting the tone for all the weeks to follow:

H: Hi, Sorry! I’m passing out soon. The dreadful opening shift is killing me this week. I’m really glad we ran into each other. Kind of crazy, but I’ve been trying to think of ways to get your number for a while. I hope that’s not weird or anything. Thanks for letting me crash your evening with your family. You were definitely a pleasant surprise. See you around.

Fast forward several weeks, and here he was, standing before you, once a stranger but still one of the sexiest guys you had ever seen because let’s not pretend like you haven’t been eyeing him ever since you started coming to this coffee shop. Now, there were numerous possibilities—the looming thought of him being inside you, hanging over your heads, added static building between you, and yes, his flirting right now is solidifying the deal for you because he wants you. You can see it in his eyes, the electricity coursing through your veins when they flit to your mouth, and then he says:

“I was getting worried…I haven’t heard from you,” and he smirks nonchalantly reading the label of your drink as your eyes sweep over his face. 

His playfulness simmers into that casual, relaxed demeanor you’ve grown so fond of, and you can’t help but smile, your body warming at the thought of that last message, the image flashing across your vision, but there’s something different about the interaction, the thought of him more intimate because now you had the pleasure of piece together more details, more things about himself that he’s revealed, and let you kept, collecting bits of Harry that only make you like him more.

“I’m sorry, I started that internship…it was crazy the first few days…” you tell him.

“Oh yeah, I was wondering how that was going…” and this makes you smile. His attentiveness, his genuine curiosity about your life because he really did seem interested this whole time, from the very beginning. “I was hoping I didn’t scare you off—”

“Mmmm…” you nod, getting lost in a trance, his words like a switch, igniting that little flame within. He has a way of sucking you in, making you feel like you’re the only person in the room, the way he holds your gaze, never flinching, never shying away.

“Yeah?” He nudges, a curious look pulling between his brows.

You clamor a nervous laugh, the sound making you stumble over your words, “Yeah—I mean—no—no…not scared…I mean, no, you didn’t scare me off…”

“Not scared…” he laughs

And you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, as a smile spreads across your face, “Yeah…whatever that means…” you laugh, this time taking control of your reaction because shit, you are giving yourself away, and it’s no wonder you didn’t text him back because you can’t even keep it together enough to form the right words, let alone a sentence for that matter.

“Mmmmm….” he hums, that sly grin back in full swing, and you don’t even want that hot drink anymore because it’s fucking roasting in here, and you hope with all your might that he’s not picking up on your embarrassment, but then he says:

“Did you want a water?”

“A water?” you ask confused.

“Yeah, you usually get a water…you seem thirsty this morning—”

“Thirsty?” you question, caught up in that smile.

“Yeah, do you want extra ice, maybe cool you down a little bit?”

This is when you finally catch on to his joke, “I think I have to go and never come back, “ you say, turning away slightly.

“No—no—no—no—no—no” He laughs, reaching over the counter to grab your arm, and you feel the blush creeping further, setting your whole body on fire. “I’m just joking… you’re cute when you blush….”

“Oh really? Because now I think I want to die,” you force, hitching your thumb toward the door as he releases your arm.

Harry shakes his head, that smile even more persistent, “I’m only teasing…here…” he says, pushing your drink forward, “I promise I won’t poke anymore fun…” and just as the words fall from his mouth, a random girl walks up, grabbing her drink, her eyes trained on Harry, smiling over to get his attention, but his eyes never leave your face. All you want to do is climb onto this counter and let him take you right then and there—let him claim you, make you his, pray that you’re his one and only because every time you see him, that want, that need to have him. Buries itself deeper inside you—each new day, every new detail only makes you like him more.

“Would you want to come over tonight?” Harry asks, catching you off guard, the question tripping you up again.

“Oh, my roommate is having people over tonight, so I can’t host…” you tell him, unaware that you heard the question wrong because this would be the first time you guys hung out alone, without the safety of a crowded bar or the public eye of his coffee shop.

“No—” he laughs, thoroughly entertained by you this morning, “Would you like to come to mine? I don’t mind hosting…maybe watch a movie or something…”

Or something…you think, something wild, your thoughts spinning as you nod your head up and down, words suddenly hard.

“So is that a yeah?” he pokes.

“Yeah—yeah—yeah—” you confirm, still nodding, “Yup, that sounds good…that sounds really good…” 

And you’re kicking yourself for that last bit, “Really good, huh?” he repeats, really driving it home.

“God, I have to go…” and you fucking giggle like a little schoolgirl, “I think I need caffeine or something…” you tell him backing away.

He chuckles, his eyes dropping to the drink in your hand. “I steamed it extra hot this morning…” 

“Thank you! I—” you tell him, your tone rising as you turn away because you almost walked right into that one, and just as you’re about to push through the door, Harry shouts, “I’ll text you…” and then you’re through the door, gasping in a breath, the cold air filling your lung; a soothing relief. There is no way you can look back, and as you slide into the driver seat, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you lift your ass in your seat and peer down at the screen, swiping it open:

H: I’m looking forward to tonight. I’ll start thinking of movie options. Let me know what you think you might be hungry for, and I’ll order food.”

If this had been a weekday, you would have called in. You would have risked the internship because this was monumental—You were going to Harry’s place—This was bound to be a turning point, a change in scenery for you both, more personal, shifting the mood from friendly to possibly sexy, and this you had to prepare for.

You waited until you got home to text him back. You didn’t want to come off as too excited; you wanted to play it cool. I guess, yes, you could have texted him back right then and there, but why not leave some mystery? You already knew you wanted Chinese food; that was a no-brainer, but when he texted you and told you his internet was down. He asked if you had any DVDs, and this made you laugh. You had only kept a few random movies over the years stowed away in a box in your closet, a sparse collection curated specifically for you, especially not for a hot dude you were trying to get with.

And when you pulled your old box of belongings from the dusty top shelf, you laughed the second you opened it. There, sitting on top, were three random DVDs—you were beside yourself because now you were questioning your younger self, wondering why the fuck you would keep any of these movies, store them away like prized gold.

Okay, maybe there was something about the movie ‘Twilight’ that was worth keeping. You could understand that, and as you pulled it from the box, your eyes swept over the cover. You thought about the kind of vibe it would set, and it seemed like a movie you’d make your boyfriend watch when you just wanted a movie to cozy up together, something you knew he would never enjoy but would watch for you because he loved you. Maybe it would be okay if you both had seen it, but if Harry hadn’t seen it. This wasn’t the time, so you placed it on the floor next to you, making it an option.

When you pulled ‘The Notebook’ out, the cover Ryan Gosling and Rachel Mcadams about to embrace in a passionate kiss, you literally laughed out loud because there was no way in hell you wanted to watch this movie with him. It was way too soon. What message would you be sending if you chose that one, maybe you were overthinking this all, but hell, this was a big deal, and you wanted it all to go smoothly. You didn’t want to imply too much this early on, but at the same, the more you thought about it, the more you thought that you could actually see this going somewhere, and maybe it wasn’t just the sex you wanted—it was him.

Everything about him screamed—interested.

It didn’t seem like a facade to get you into bed because if that were the case, you think he would have already acted on it; something about the pace of your interactions meant more than a hookup. You found his genuine curiosity in you endearing, the biggest turn on in a very long time, and if sex came cool—He was already “fucking” your brain with his authenticity because if you really broke it down. None of the boys that have popped up in the last couple of months were ever worth your time. You had been waiting around for a man—a real man, to swoop in, a man that was sure of himself, that had his shit together, that was interested in more than just a casual hook-up because you were over that bullshit, over the feeling of being disposable in somebody else’s roster. 

And while you weren’t fully sure of Harry’s intentions, you bet if you asked, he would tell you. He was busy. He had a business to run, for heaven’s sake, and something told you he didn’t have a lot of time to fuck around, like when he told that pilates instructor he was busy, there was definitely some truth in that. You could tell he was organized with his time by the way he made plans—each hang out thoughtfully procured with your time at the forefront, never flaking or making excuses, never changing the plans at the last minute.

In fact, everything about him so far was a major turn on, and as you skimmed through your underwear drawer, trying to piece together a matching set because you could be a grown-up too, you laughed, your eyes flicking over to the third movie laid out across your floor, Juno—that was the one—That would be the perfect movie. You couldn’t even remember the last time you watched it, at least not as an adult. So you did the polite thing and sent him a picture, the movies lined up in a neat row, and as you sent the picture, you internally wished that he would choose Juno like maybe that would be the universe’s way of saying, “Yeah…you’re on the same page…this ones a keeper…”

H: We should talk about your movie collection later…but without a doubt, Juno for me…but I wouldn’t be opposed to The Notebook either…I’ll let you pick.

You laugh, falling back onto your bed, watching those tiny little dots move at the bottom of the screen.

H: Also, I’m going comfy vibes, like sweatpants and t-shirt kind of night, just a heads up.

Then you’re kicking your feet, that inner school girl rising up again, and now you’re fucking obsessing over this guy, over the fact that he just gets it, like somehow he’s becoming the complete package, like all those late-nights thinking about him was finally starting to pay off.

H: Ordering the food now, see you soon! 

You send him a text, leap off the bed and rush to finish getting dressed; that picture of his dick in the foyer of your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought, already horny with the idea of just walking through his door, the idea of sitting on the same couch and it’s like you’re a teenager all over again, dying to makeout until your lips are chapped, rub your body against his until the friction has you wet until his hands are roaming your body, needy to explore every inch of you.

This is what you’re thinking as you wait for him to open the door, your heart thudding away in your chest. When you hear the click of the knob and the door creaks open, your stomach twists with butterflies, the flutter seizing your whole body as he reaches out to embrace you in a hug, but your hands are full, and you can only lean into his side, a half-ass hug as he starts collecting each item, kicking the door closed behind you.

“Glad you found it okay,” Harry tosses over his shoulder as you follow him into the living room.

Harry sets your stuff down on the coffee table just as the doorbell chimes, “Ah, that must be the food, be right back, just make yourself at home…” He smiles, his eyes searching your face, and you hope you’re not coming off too nervous because, let’s face it, this is intimidating as fuck. You figured he had his shit together, but his place was amazing, eclectic yet put together like he actually paid full price for his couch, probably brand new, a large fluffy L-shape—you couldn’t help but flop down onto the cushion, exhaling all your self-doubt because what’s the worst that could happen, you think as your eyes flit shut, sinking into the feeling of comfort. 

“I’m going to grab some dishes,” he says, stirring you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes as he releases the sack of food, the boxes making a dull thud as they hit the table.

You push yourself up with a smile, him catching you in the middle of testing out his sofa, “Comfy couch,” you tell him, clearing your throat. 

He laughs, “It really is. If I fall asleep during the movie, you’ll have to wake me.”

“I was literally just thinking the same thing. I drank coffee before I came, so—”

He runs a hand through his hair, “I honestly did the same…I didn’t want to leave a bad impression. I’m notorious for falling asleep early.”

You laugh then, “Well, if I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to open a coffee shop, I would never have a social life.” 

“My social life is barely functioning…trust me….” He tells you, “I’ll be back in just a second. Are you good with chopsticks, or would you like a fork?” 

“Chopsticks are great, thank you.” You grin, your cheeks squishing into a wide smile.

“What?” he asks, matching your smile.

“Nothing…nothing…I’ll set up the movie,” you offer, needing to look away, needing to look anywhere else because he is so fucking cute, and those sweatpants are so hot on him, hugging the bulge you know is there, and if you stare too long you might start undressing him.

“That would be perfect, thank you.” and his manners make you smile even more as you stand to your feet, slipping your shoes off to get cozy. 

The movie is set, and when he sees the opening menu of Juno, he laughs as the old wood floors creak under his soft footfalls. His presence fills the room in a matter of seconds, drawing you back to the moment, making you all too aware that this is real when he sits closer than you expected, his elbow softly grazing yours, and you can’t seem to find any words, you heart racing, maybe second-guessing if you’re actually ready for this, and really this is just you guys watching a movie. You know it doesn’t have to be anything else, but then there’s the desperate side of you, the side that wants to explore every option because there is something about him that feels safe and open to every prospect.

Getting past the eating part was fine, and as you guys cozied up with your plates and the movie began, it wasn’t even strange that the opening scene was a mild sex scene because you were both adults and honestly, it was barely a sex scene, mostly implied, kind of like this night with Harry.

It was when the eating was done, all the niceties out of the way. There was still an hour of the movie left, the room dark now, only the soft glow of the television casting light over you both. Harry’s knee was casually pressed against yours as the both of you sat cross-legged on the couch. Every time he moved even the slightest, your eyes would drop to your knee, a low hum buzzing up your thigh, and as soon as you brought any attention to the touch in your mind, that feeling of want pulled between your legs, making you suck in a slow, silent breath through your nose, you reminding yourself to breath, trying not to draw any attention to yourself.

Eventually, you relaxed enough to sink into the movie— overly focused on the screen—even when Harry stretched his legs out and slid further down on the couch cushion, his arm stretching across the pillow behind your head. You didn’t even move. You just sat there so quietly and so still, nearly holding your breath, and maybe he must have picked up on this because then he was pausing the movie, suggesting a bathroom break.

And the second he walked out of the room, you felt your whole body decompress, and you filled your lungs with as much oxygen as you could, gulping in air like the second he walked back in the room, he would steal the very air you were breathing. Why were you still nervous? He hadn’t tried anything, he wasn’t being weird or hinting at anything, no hidden expectations floating to the surface because you guys really were just hanging out, but that still didn’t make it feel any easier. Before he left the room, you could feel the tension straining in your shoulders as you sat there, your muscles burning from your rigid posture—you needed to chill; you were the one that needed to get your shit together. 

When you heard his footsteps, you shot up from the couch like a fucking weirdo, almost losing your footing, but you caught yourself before you could fall, a nervous laugh slipping past your lips, and by the way, your face was already starting to burn, you were glad it was too dark to see the flush rising to your cheeks.

“All good?” He asks, a slow smile spreading as his brows knit together.

You nod, forcing an odd laugh, “Is the bathroom that way?” you point in the direction he just came from, and you barely catch his nod as you take the long way around the couch, avoiding any chance of touching or his body brushing yours because it’s obvious you’re being a fucking chicken, because there’s no way a grown man was inviting you over just watch a movie.

 As you shut the door behind you, you exhale, realizing you were holding your breath that entire walk to the bathroom, and then you can’t fill your lungs quick enough as the anxious thoughts rise within, suffocating you, your anxiety trying to get the best of you. You can do this. Everything is okay, you are capable of communicating, you could march in there and just talk, you could ask what the deal is, what it is that he’s looking for because if it’s just to fuck, that is doable that part feels like a piece of cake, you would love to get off, but this was more, you can feel it in your bones, there was knowingly something different about him, and it scared the shit out of you.

And while you wash your hands, you try and avoid the mirror, avoiding your eyes, because you know what they would convey, and you already felt cowardly enough. So, of course, when you walk back into the living room again, you take the long way, not daring to look at Harry. Then you take your spot back next to him without a word, feeling his eyes on you, your body tensing up, and as you stare at the screen waiting for him to unpause the movie, he doesn��t. That’s when you chance a glance over at him, his eyes roam over your face, and then he leans past you to turn on the lamp as you hold your breath, the scent of him lingering in your nose as he settles back onto the cushion, this time facing you, and you look over and try and give him a corky smile, but you know it looks strange because the muscles in your cheeks keep twitching.

God, this is embarrassing, you think, and Harry clears his throat, “Umm…is it cool if we clear the air?”

And without a word, you nod, forcing yourself to face him, sitting up straight because you got this, you can do this, get this part over.

“I guess I just wanted to be clear about…I guess my intentions…I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone…and I guess I’m feeling a little rusty. If that makes sense?” He explains, making your heart pick up. 

“Yeah…same,” you mutter, your throat tight, and you swallow down hard.

“I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate this all…you know, like…I don’t know. I really like you, and I was hoping we could like—” 

“What? Have sex—?” You blurt, making him gasp out a laugh, and really, you just wanted to cut right to the chase and figure out what your next move needed to be.

He looks nervous, a funny smile spread across his face as he runs a hand up the back of his head, “I mean—” and he laughs, his nerves visibly getting the best of him, and this makes you smile because you definitely just jumped the gun.

“Is that what you’re wanting?” he asks, looking down at his hands, “I guess I’m trying to figure out what you’re looking for—” He starts

“To be completely transparent, I’m sort of looking for something a little more serious…I mean, sex is great, but—”

You jump in then, “No—yeah, the other…” you clear your throat, “Like something serious…I’m sorry, but you make me so fucking nervous…”

“Am I being too forward?” he asks, his brows furrowed.

And you laugh, “No, I just think I really like you, and it’s just…been a while, you know? It’s also been a while since I’ve dated anyone…or I guess…like had sex…”

“Mmmm…” he hums, and then he laughs, “Not to push the sex narrative, but it has been a while for me, as well….like maybe a year or so. I don’t know. I stopped keeping track. I’ve been really busy with work, and I wasn’t really looking for anything, and then I saw you at the concert…”

Your eyes search his face then, but you know he’s telling you the truth, “So…like, how serious are you thinking? Like someone to exclusively hook up with? Fit into your busy schedule? What are you looking for? I would rather be on the same page.”

“Like dating…like a girlfriend…like maybe this could be something that moves further…”

And for some reason, you narrow your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side, “With me?” you question. 

Harry laughs again, “Well…yeah, you silly.”

Then you had to back up the conversation, “So the other night when you sent me that picture, it wasn’t for the sake of a hook-up?”

“I mean, I’m interested in hooking up, but it doesn’t have to be right now…I don’t know, I guess I just wanted you to know I was interested…” Then he laughs, his eyes shying away from you again, “Like I said, I’m rusty. Was that a weird thing to do? It’s been a while since I’ve done that…actually, I’ve only done that one other time…so—”

“I did ask for it…” you clarified, grabbing his attention.

“Yeah…I guess you did.” Then his eyes drop to your mouth.

And now you’re feeling bold, “I’m very interested…” and when your eyes dart away from his, you feel your face growing hot, laughing to yourself as you contemplate the conversation because you didn’t see it coming, but there was a piece of you that was glad it was happening, maybe even a piece of you realizing you may have a communication kink because you’re definitely getting turned on the clearer his intentions get and when he asks:

“What are you thinking?” That’s when you look over and smile, watching his smile spread across those perfect lips of his, and you bite down on your lower lip, deciding which dirty thought to divulge because there might be too many to choose just one.

Then you bite your lip harder, trying to suppress your smile, but it’s no use, and you say, “I mean…we can wait as long as you want to explore the physical side, but I’m down whenever you are…like so down…” 

This cracks him up, “So, just like whenever?” 

And you match his laughter, falling back against the couch pillows, “I might let you make me Ju—no—” and you can’t even say it with a straight face as you both burst into laughter, all the tension seeming to go with it, and it’s like the room is brighter, the air lighter around you as you suck in a hard breath, almost choking on your own laugh. 

“I’m actually on birth control…so the Juno thing might be out the window,” you tell him, placing a hand on his knee. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even realize it. Then he’s resting his hand on yours, smiling over at you. 

That’s when you feel the pad of his thumb moving back and forth over the top of your hand, and you look down, “Hypothetically speaking…” he says, squeezing your hand, and your heart leaps in your throat as you begin to grip his hand. 

“If I were to ask you if you wanted to stay the night one day… would you be down with that?” Then he grips your hand back, and you loosen your hold, laughing because you keep giving yourself away.

“Honestly? You ask.

And he nods, that cute smile stretching, his dimples sinking into his cheeks, “Can we just like get the first hook-up out of the way…because if I wait any longer, I might psych myself out”

“Fuck…” he breathes, “Yes—I feel the same way…like right here? Or in my bed?” he forces, relief washing over his features, a new air of excitement filling the room.

“Oh…did you want to finish the movie?” he adds right before you tell him:

“Fuck no—” laughing as you squeeze his hand again. 

“You look like someone who would have a comfortable bed…” you tell him, standing to your feet.

Harry rises with you, still holding your hand. “My rooms upstairs—” he says, his eyes flicking to the stairs through the archway.

“Okay…?” he questions, his eyes scanning your face for any hesitation.

“Yes—” you nod as he begins to pull you toward the stairs.

As soon as you reach the landing at the top of the stairs, he turns around, laughing, “Wait—you said I look like someone who has a comfortable bed?”

“Is that really what you’re thinking about…? You laugh.

He shrugs like he’s stalling, or maybe he’s nervous, “I mean… among other things…”

“Harry, are you nervous?” you ask, squeezing his hand again, and honestly, you’re hoping that he says yes because you’re not sure how this is going to go down, but you’ve been horny for him long before he sent you that photo, so you don’t really care about the details; you just want him inside you as soon as possible. 

“Honestly…I don’t think I’ll last long. I just thought I would warn you…”

You smile then, lifting your hand to stroke his cheek, “Then we’re both in the same boat…we’ll just say the first time doesn’t count. Deal?” 

“Deal, " he says, letting out a light laugh. You stand there, taking in his face. A boyish grin setting in, about to push you to the edge, and you practically leap to the tips of your toes, pushing your mouth to his.

At first, he’s stunned, but once you begin to move your mouth, he grabs hold of your face, taking a step back. When he takes another, you break the kiss, excitement coursing through you, and you peek over his shoulder, wondering which door leads to his bedroom. When he realizes what you’re doing, he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the end of the hall, pushes through the door, and it smacks against the wall as Harry tugs you through the doorway.

The first thing you do is grab hold of his shirt, his picture flashing across your vision. You have to see those tattoos in person, and when you begin to pull at the hem, he takes your cue and lifts it over his head. Now you’re the one who’s stunned as a whole series of tattoos come into view, halting you in place. Then your eyes are feasting over the plains of his body, the muscles, the random array of tattoos—since when did coffee shop owners look this fucking hot? Like, what did he do before this? But then you’re driving these thoughts away, your hands already moving over his skin—a palm brushing flat over the butterfly at the center of his chest, and it’s almost too much.

You drop to your knees, at eye level, with the leaves inked into his lower abdomen, and you lick your lips, grabbing hold of his waist, a light touch tracing along one side with the tips of your fingers. “Jesus,” you breathe as the leaves disappear into the band of his sweatpants. Before your eyes move any further, you gaze up at Harry. His eyes are trained on you, a lazy smile spreading on his face, and then he laughs.

“If you put those lips around my dick, I swear I’ll only last two seconds. Your touch has already got me so close…” He tells you, bending at the waist to lift your chin, and when he plants his lips to yours, you breathe him in, working yourself back to standing, your mouth never leaving his.

You pull away from the kiss, pressing your hand flat against his chest, needy, pushing him toward the bed, “I could probably get off just by looking at you…” and you both laugh at this, but you’re serious. Everything about him is working you up, and now you’re so turned on that you feel yourself opening for him, your pussy throbbing the entire time you bound up the stairs.

Harry stumbles back onto the bed, sitting at the edge, and brings you between his legs. When he gives your shirt a playful tug, you lift your arms, giving him permission, and he yanks it up, up, up until he’s standing, pulling until you feel the collar of your shirt wisp over the tips of your fingers, then he tosses it to the ground with a smirk on his face—your red lacy bra on full display in the low light of the moon, casting silver light through the window.

When he sits back down on the bed, he draws you toward him again, his hands on your waist, gripping the meat of flesh, a hunger rising up as he buries his face into the hallow between your breast, and when you run your hands through his hair, Harry lets out a soft groan, a puff of heat fanning over your skin, and you bring your face down to the crown of his head, breathing in the smell of his hair. 

Harry’s hand moves from your waist to the clasp

of your bra, fidgetting with the hook as he nibbles the tip of your hard nipples through your bra; all you can do is watch, a chill running up your spine, a rush surging through you as soon as your bra comes off, and this is happening, this is real, and when Harry looks up and smiles at you, you need him inside of you—now, desperate for it, desperate for him.

You were ready, that consistent ache between your legs tugging at the pit of your stomach. You wanted him fast and deep; you wanted him to open you up, stretch you so that you would remember, a sore reminder later, a feeling that he was there—leave you reeling, craving more—crave him as you crave him now, like a sweet tooth, one bite never enough.

“Now—” you force, “Now—I need it now,” you tell him, your hands on his shoulder, moving down his chest as you’re pushing him back, and Harry laughs, his body following your command, the muscles in his stomach flexing and relaxing as he lays back on the bed. Then your eyes are drifting down, his grey sweatpants marking the outline of his dick, and it’s joy, pure joy, that giddy feeling tightening your chest, adrenaline shakey at the tips of your fingers as you reach for the elastic waist of his pants. 

“I’m so fucking turned on—” he mutters, the words flying out of his mouth, your hands colliding as he helps you ease the pants down, his boxers coming with, catching on his thighs, his dick seconds away from springing free, and harry lifts his leg as you rip off his pants, tossing them across the room with such force, that you can’t help but laugh as Harry’s eyes follow, the pants knocking a picture off the wall, and the frame comes crashing down to the floor with a smash, the sounds of glass shattering fills the room, and Harry doesn’t even flinch because he’s grabbing your face before you can even see the damage. 

Harry stands to his feet, one goal in mind, and that was to get you naked, “Still good?” he asks, but you’re too distracted, his rock-hard cock bobbing between the two of you, and when he laughs, it pulses a slight bounce, and it’s like striking gold, your eyes wide, lit with curiosity, every ounce of excitement you felt before hurrying to your needy hands as you reach for his penis, wrapping your hand around his girth, a gasp slipping past your lips as his warmth seeps into the palm of your hand.

The thought was enough before, but the feeling of him in your hand is even better, drawing that hungry to the surface, your mouth watering, and you swallow hard as you rip your eyes away from the dick filling your hand. When you meet Harry’s eyes, you both smile, sharing a knowing look as you nod your head, a late response bubbling up, and then you lick your lips, smoothing them together, contemplating whether or not you’re going to drop back down to your knees, and then you say, “I need you inside me—” gliding your hand down his shaft as Harry sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, the quick sensation of pleasure too much for you both, and he stops your hand mid stoke, his jaw clenching as he squeezes his eyes shut, and when his head falls back, lips parting—You’re losing it. 

Without thought, your crawling back onto the bed, pulling at the waistband of your yoga pants, too fucking tight for this situation because it’s taking too long, every movement bringing awareness to your wet pussy, the cold air grazing over your newly exposed skin. Then Harry is helping you tear them past your ass, lifting your hips as his knuckles drag down your legs with the rough effort of ripping them past your ankles.

 Never again, you think, never again will you waste time with such a useless fabric as you bring your hand between your thighs, smearing the wetness building within you up your slit, readying yourself. Watching Harry’s mouth gape open when you spread your legs, and god, you are so fucking wet, so fucking horny that you think you’ll explode, and as Harry strokes his dick, his hand moving up and down, you dip your fingers inside, slowly pushing them in, only enough to slick your entrance, then out, and in again, so smooth, open, begging to be filled, to be stretched.

When Harry presses a knee into the edge of the bed, you pull your wet fingers from inside you, making Harry smile. He drops his dick as he climbs onto the bed next to you, him watching as you suck your fingers into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from Harry as he grabs hold of your wrist, your fingers slipping out of your mouth with ease, then Harry is making them his the moment they enter his mouth, his tongue moving over your fingers, then you feel the suction, feel the vibration at the back of his throat when he groans, satisfaction loosening his tight-knit browns.

You can’t take it; that’s when you’re pulling your fingers from his mouth, pushing him back onto the bed, and claiming on top, one swift movement, “Is this okay?” you ask, the thought of asking barely at the forefront of your mind, and when he grabs your hips to line you up, lifting himself to adjusting you both, the answer is evident in the movements because he’s just as desperate, just as needy. 

“Is this how you want it?” he asks, and you nod your head, feeling shy suddenly, heat creeping into your cheeks—the exchange of words slowing things down enough to put things into perspective in just a matter of seconds.

“This is good…” you answer, on the verge of second-guessing yourself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathe, straightening your spine, your body relaxing slightly, nervous, but the look on Harry’s face is reassuring you, something telling you he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.

“Will you tell me if you want to change positions if this is too much…” And he smiles then, a playful smirk as you lean forward, and you press your hand into the bed, next to his head. Your face inches from his. 

You laugh then, “I want it to be too much…” you tell him, confident in the fact that no matter what position, it’s going to hurt, so why not have control? Besides, you wanted to watch him come undone, be the reason he’s calling your name.

“Dammit… you’re dangerous…” he laughs, his tone low, a silky rasp in your ear as you drop your mouth to his neck, pressing your lips to his soft skin, breathing him in as your free hand navigates his dick to your opening, the stretch imitate as his tip dips in, and your breath catching as you shove him inside you. Amazed by the force it takes just to inch him in the smallest amount as Harry exhales a heavy breath into your neck, and holy shit, your lack of sex is finally catching up, you think as you push yourself up, your face hovering over his.

“Fuck—” you breathe with a smile, trying not to laugh, and your eyes sweep over his face, your brain taking mental notes of every look of pleasure that has stolen Harry’s features, saving them for later. 

“We can go slow?” he says, leaning up to grab hold of your face, a harsh breath leaving your mouth as he presses his lips to yours, his dick inching further in with every moment.

You pull away from the kiss, teetering on pain’s edge as you rest your forehead against his, “Just push into me…” you whisper, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.

“What?” He asks, confused, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Let’s just rip the bandaid off—” Then it’s happening. Harry gazes up at you; a moment of hesitation, then he grabs your hips and bucks himself deep inside you, the pain ricocheting through your teeth as you bit down hard, sealing your pained moan behind your lips, and you screw your eye shut, sinking your weight into your hips ceasing any further movement.

“…fuuuuuuuuuuck….” you whisper, your head spinning, dizzy with the thought of his cock buried inside you, like he’s splitting you open, carving out a space for himself. There was no going back after this because this is the kind of dick you dreamed of, the kind of dick you wanted to break you in, claim you, make you theirs, and even if there’s pain now, there’s bliss in the thought of knowing.

“Take your time…” he breaths his voice a strained whisper, and you can tell this is just as painful for him, but in a different way, your walls gripping him tight, and as you release a breath, the pain begins to ease with the thought of exploring the onset of pleasure gradually taking way, the exploitation a vice of its own, and it’s just enough.

And when you open your eyes, there he is, Harry, staring back at you, a look somewhere between concern and pleasure, because then you’re moving your hips, slow, getting used to the feeling of him inside you as Harry grips the meat of your hips, exhaling when you lean back down, to kiss his lips, a warm breath filling your mouth, and there’s the pleasure—you and Harry—chest to chest, two hearts beating as one—then he moving you guys along, planting his feet into the bed, and you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. 

Harry lifts his hips, grabs hold of your ass, and pushes into you, easing apart your ass cheeks just enough to open you up more, dipping deeper this time, repeating the motion until you’re bouncing up and down in his dick, both of you pushing moans in out of one another mouth, each one louder than before, the sensation overwhelming every sense of your body. Every thrust drives deeper as you feel your body begins to succumb to the pressure building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and it’s this, this is what you wanted.

All of it. 

The sound of satisfaction echos around you, the squeak of the bed, the thud of the wooden headboard banging against the wall, both of your effort playing in tandem, the push and pull—a give and taking until the both of you are forming a rhythm, two bodies playing out like a fucking symphony, every moving part a perfect balance. Then you’re crying out his name, pushing up on his chest until your palms are flush with his dewy skin, and when you lock eyes with his, you nod your head, tilting your hips back and forth, your movements growing desperate, faster, and when you say:

“I’m close,” Harry leans up and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down hard, the friction slowing, each moment deeper and deeper.

“How close are you?” He forces

“I’m close—don’t stop…” you plead.

“Fuck…” He breaths, thrusting hard, “So good—”

“Don’t stop—” you beg. “Don’t you dare fucking stop—”

“I’m so close—” he groans, and you slam your hips down, seconds away; just seconds, that’s all you need.

“I’m gunna come…” you force, stealing your orgasm as you grind your hips into his pelvis, your knees stretching as wide as they can, the position limiting, but it’s just enough, and when Harry drives into you again, yelling out your name, it seals your fate, your whole body buckling, and you collapse, your pussy gripping his dick tighter, seizing around the contour of his hard cock as Harry bursts inside you, his pulsing dick the perfect ending as you ride out our orgasm.

And then you’re both catching your breath. Your bodies pressed together, the thud of his heartbeat racing across your lips, your face buried in the crook of his neck now as you nibble a soft bite into the pulse beating under his skin. Harry lets out a breath laugh, cool air sweeping over your damp shoulder, and you don’t move, his dick still inside you, both of you unwilling to part. 

When you lift your head, taking in the sweaty glow of his face, you sweep a stray curl from his forehead as a soft smile spreads, his dimple dipping. " Hi,” he whispers, his voice dripping like honey from his lip, and it’s so sweet, kindness emanating through every gentle touch, pouring out into the delicate kiss he plants on your lips as you bask in the afterglow of pleasure.

And it’s strange how quickly your mind just switched gears because now you want to beg for forever, have him hold you in his arms just like this, laugh, tell him he just marked his territory because there’s no going back, you think again, really meaning it, your mind in the dizzying aftermath of pure fucking bliss because now you want to make him fall in love, pray that this was a starting point, pick his brain, ask him what he’s thinking as your thoughts spiral.

All of this running through your mind as you deepen the kiss, Harry holding you tighter, then he breaks away, falling back onto the bed, his body relaxing as he crosses his arms behind his head, and then he smiles, face beaming, “Is it too early to think you may have just locked me down…hopefully you’re okay with that.” 

And really, the joke is on him because he doesn’t even know the half of it, so when you send him that sweet little smile, all you can do is laugh, thinking if he only knew, but I guess we’ll find out.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoyed!

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[sleepymccoy]

Since this post is the only thing in my activity feed right now, I thought I'd draw a (slightly abstracted so I don't fully dox myself) little map of all the libraries I can get to without having to think about where to go!

The city has quite a few libraries, I expect if I walked around a bit I'd find three more lol.

The one near my home is like a ten min walk.The tram line is the line I grew up near, so I know it fairly well. The further library is my childhood one, and the one in the middle of the tram line I know I can see when we pass it, although I've never been in. So I'd be able to get off in time

The train line, I've lived in two other suburbs along and have worked along, so I know the areas well. The tram line going south off the train I went to uni there for a year and spent a lot of time poking around the streets so I can find the libraries. The other place I went to uni I don't know the libraries

The bus is just a fluke that I happen to know that suburb's library (it's by the beach) and that bus goes everywhere. If I caught it and paid attention I'm sure I'd see a dozen, but I'm not counting that for this poll. Only places I know!

And the city has so many. State library of course, and I went to the top one in the city just last week. The bottom one I've been in before but I only know it's location vaguely, so it'd take some walking around. However, it's a touristy area and it's signposted. The middle left one is the court library, which I happen to know is public access

So that's thirteen I'm extremely confident about. I'm new to driving lol so I wouldn't use my car for any of it, way easier to navigate by train and tram, they definitely go where they say theyre going to go

If I wanted to max out my library number tho, I know how to get onto the main highways out of town. Just hit the highway and pull off in every small town and find the main strip and then the library! But while I know that'd work, I don't actually know those libraries so I'm not counting it. Also didn't count uni libraries because I don't have a uni card right now, so I couldn't get in. These are all public libraries

Also to mutuals and followed and so on, if you're trying to get in touch for any reason my activity is buggered right now. I posted this last night and it's got thousands of reblogs all saying something in the tags, I can't update my feed fast enough. Please DM me if there's anything you'd usually tag or mention me in ❤️

You can use any travel method you like, walking, public transport, so on. You can get an uber but their map has failed so you'll have to give directions. You can travel to other countries and count those libraries but you have to be able to completely navigate from your home without assistance. So you can catch a plane but must be able to travel to and from the airport. No limit on how long it takes. If you know which block it's on or which tram line but aren't sure precisely, but you feel sure you'd find it once you got there, count that as a yes (if you're not sure maybe google it now and see if your plan would work). You cannot rely on asking for directions though, this must be all your knowledge

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 5 - what are people's first impressions of you ?

masterlist / ko-fi

my last post : your 2025 main lesson and themes.

Pile 1

10 of cups, King of Swords, 9 of Wands, 7 of Swords, 4 of Wands, The Sun, The Lovers, Death

Mischevious, Cunning, Manipulative in a flirtatious way ??, flirtatious, funny, Victorious, Happy, Fun to be around, Doesn’t take responsibility for things, Playful, Too unserious, Hot and sexy, Hot n Fun, Short n Sweet, Wet n Wild, If you’re a woman, people might think you easily get super wet (what is wrong with people respectfully 💀), Femme fatale/fboy boy, You look like trouble pile 1 not gonna lie lmaoo, Too hot to handle, People assume you’re a cheater or just kind of sneaky but all of that dark energy comes out somehow really playful ?? At first glance you exude strong Gemini and Aries energies  : kind of childish and playful, really “oopsie daisy”. They’re impression is that you’re the type of person that plays dumb when you get called out for your misbehavior. People might think you are commitment phobic, A player but people don't even mind to be heartbroken if it's you : “I don’t care if I get played by them tbh” people lowkey want to get heartbroken by you (people are crazy 🤡) 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re a firecracker. Pile 1 I keep on seeing Maddy from Euphoria and Megan Thee Stallion’s Realer era, Pimpin is a song that plays in the background when you’re walking in the street lmaoo You look like you're always in a badass edit

I am hearing the lyrics “she bad mix the ratchet with the classy ooh so bad i just couldn’t let her past me no i told her “shawty, you so right but you so wrong”. Pile 1, you definitely got that aaah (reference to that one tiktok sound of She Knows - Ne-yo feat Juicy J and T pain). You literally make people do double takes on you.

People directly assume if you came into their life, you would ruin them but they would consent to their own self destruction because of how hot you are.

People's first impressions of you is that you’re a master manipulator, but not a horrible one that genuinely leaves others traumatized forever. You’re flirty, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not, but it's mostly people's delusions and projections that hurt them more than anything. They just assume things when you never meant anything, and honestly I don't even think you give people mixed signals. People mix them up by themselves. Like you smile at them just out of politeness and people are like “ damn they're into me or what ?!” What kind of people are around you Pile 1 ? Never met this level of delusion in my life 😭☠️

Something extremely strange about those impressions is that I don’t think people think you’re toxic ?? Which is a bit weird because I have been only describing manipulative behaviors… Pile 1, your energy is really complex to grasp and it stirs intense and contradictory reactions inside people when they first meet you.

I am getting people make a lot of assumptions about you because it’s not just first impressions. People project a lot on you, probably because you are really attractive and people seem to not be able to think a hot and sexy person can be a good and kind hearted person ??? These people are projecting hard literally

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a really sunny person, a really bright and happy go lucky person. 

They also instantly get that you probably got a lot of suitors and people at your feet, waiting for their chance with you. 

When they talk to you, I feel like people get really insecure and they instantly start to compare your life (i mean the 1000 assumptions of what your life is like that they created in their heads on the spot...) and compare it to their own lives. They compare your eloquence, your energy, your aura, the energy and the vibes you exude with their lack of charisma and presence. I don’t know if you’re around a lot of insecure people but be careful, some of them are secretly waiting for your downfall because of how jealous they are of you.

The type of people that are jealous of you instantly when they first see you are generally the same gender as you. If you’re a man, they compare for example how healthy your hair are, how women are easily attracted to you and follow you everywhere you go . Not going to lie it’s giving Chad VS Nice guy/ Incel kind of dynamic. Like they're internal dialogue would probably something like : “ Nice guys finish last anyways… I am sure he treats girls bad and is a player and girls still love him…It's so fucking unfair.” (such a low vibrational energy yikes 🤢). If you’re a girl, they compare your body, your smile, your makeup and how your outfits fit you perfectly , how their own crushes seem to like you more than them YET you don’t even pay mind to them (the jealous people’s crushes) lol 

Pile 1, I would advise you to be extra protective of yourself and your energy. Your spirit irritates a lot of people’s demons.

I find it interesting because this pile is heavy on gender dynamics, power of attraction,... Most of you here are probably straight, or bisexual at least. I don’t see much queer action going on. You also have a really young and fresh energy so you are probably in your 20s.

You incite a lot of hate, jealousy and envy from the same gender. And you incite a lot of obsession, desire and admiration from the opposite. You incite so much jealousy just by your presence, and it happens almost systematically and starts right when people meet you for the first time. I feel like you might have lilith somewhere prominent in your chart, first house, harshly aspected with your ascendant, also Neptune dominance.

People look at you and they instantly think to themselves “this person should star in a movie, what are they doing working in at the local Walmart ??” or “they should be in the cover of vogue. Why are they in college ? They're too hot to be sitting in a classroom all day ?!!” 

Something I am getting from all this channeling is that people's first impressions of you are generally extreme, and mostly false 💀 Different people have different assumptions about you, but everyone seem to agree that you first come across as a heartbreaker and a player. Basically pile 1, you look like trouble at first glance.

The quote I got for you is a beautiful one from Carl Jung : “People will do anything, no matter how absurd, to avoid facing their own souls”

MUSIC : Pimpin by Megan Thee Stallion / Ne-yo feat Juicy J, T-pain - She Knows (Remix) 2014

Pile 2

Ace of Wands Rx, 5 of Wands, 4 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 2 of Swords, 8 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re really closed off and standoffish. Really protective over your energy, your time and your space. You appear somehow aggressively defensive, really “get out of my way bitch” type of energy. 

People’s first impressions are that you’re holding on to a lot of pain and hurt which, in result, makes you really hostile. People can see at first glance that you have been through a lot of negative experiences in life, which made you in return cold and distant. 

Pile 2, you give the energy of a black cat, and you hiss at any person trying to approach you too closely. You really have that lone cat energy.

You have the vibes of someone that bites back. I am hearing the audio “Get your fucking dog bitch!! “ / “It don’t bite.” / ‘YES IT DO !!!”. People think you will jump on them at any given moment if they say something that you don’t like,...lol

When they first meet you, people try to be really careful with their words because they are scared that if they say something wrong, they will cross you. If you’re with a group or someone else when people first meet you, they will avoid, out of fear, to directly engage with you, and will observe how your friends or the people that are with you handle you so they can do the same. 

Pile 2, people’s first impressions of you is that you are scary as hell lmaoo

You give people the impression that you’re judging them in a way. You might unintentionally side eye people a lot. You make people uncomfortable with your standoffish attitude. 

Now, this pile is divided in two sub-types : 

you are perceived exactly like what I described above : really bitchy vibes, no bullshit energy. You’re protective of your energy because you have a lot of self-respect and don’t want people to disrespect the way some did to you in the past. 

The second type, you are like this not really because of self-respect but because there is an underlying insecurity, something particularly broken inside of you. It feels almost like you put up this front of confidence and assertiveness and people usually can see right through it. If you’re faking it until making it a lot of people upon their first impressions pick up on that. 

These two sub-types can be blended too, like you could be both at the same time or perceived as both at the same time. (I don’t know if this makes sense )

People’s first impressions of you is that you are really authoritative and controlling. You probably have a really tight schedule that you don’t like to change for anyone. You look like you don’t like to compromise or work in groups. Their first impressions of you are also that you don’t really like change, you don’t like incompetency, and that you have a really good skincare routine (??random as hell lmaoo). 

People think you eat healthy boring food, like bland porridge for breakfast and a bland salad with almost no seasoning, that you snack on overtly expensive cereal and protein bars that taste like grass (people are really funny i swear this is so hyper specific)

I think their first impressions get them to make a few assumptions on you for a few minutes, but then they move on with their lives like “well i don’t know good for them” or “let them be”. People don’t want to get too carried away in the impressions they have of you and the assumptions they make from it because they don’t want to disturb your peace. Like you have an energetic protection that gives them a limited amount of time to ponder on who you might be. Like I am seeing a system almost like the one in Inside out, a little creature, a fairy or a guardian angel, coming into the person’s mind and starting the timer the moment they stare at you or interact with you for the first time with their foot tapping on the floor and their eyebrows frowned, looking over their watch each second ticking with growing impatience. People feel like they have to go through tests to be allowed to think of you deliberately. 

Pile 2, you have really protective guardian angels damn ! They tolerate no bullshit congrats!!

QUOTE : healed people hear differently

SONGS : Focus - Saweetie / Plan B - Megan thee Stallion / Here - Alessia Cara

Pile 3

King of pentacles, The Star, 7 of swords, 10 of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, 10 of Wands, 5 of Cups, Death

When I first started shuffling for your pile, High Maintenance of Saweetie started playing. Pile 3, you’re standing on business ! It was especially this lyric that stood out to me : 

“See I'ma rider but nah I ain't a die

'Cause I wouldn't take a bullet for a n***a, that's a lie”

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a workaholic with all your life figured out. You have a clear path of where your life will take you. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re extremely busy and productive, but, despite that, you are not a robot that does things mindlessly and repetitively. No, you are your own unique person, you have a clear and  higher vision, you seem like a complex individual with a mind of your own.

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a complex individual, with many layers. Instantly, people want to get to know you and get closer to you. They want to know your backstory, and what led you to be so passionate about everything you do today. They want to know how you seem to manage everything in your life so gracefully. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you are a deep soul that learned to make peace with the lighter side of life. You know when to let go and have fun, and when to cling onto things and be serious about things. 

People’s first impressions of you is that you’re beautiful, I am even hearing “striking”. 

People perceive your beauty as being ethereal. It’s not an instagram model type of pretty or handsome, it’s more sophisticated, it’s unique, it is just “you”. 

Maybe a lot of you are not conventionally attractive, you have a particular physical trait, something that makes you stand out instantly. It usually disturbs people a bit when they first meet you like “Oh!...”. I don’t know if you get what I am trying to say lol It is like you’re a woman with really thick and black body hair, but, instead of hiding them or shaving them, you just let them be there. You don’t really care much whether people see them or not. It could also be that you have back acne, and this does not stop you from wearing tank tops or just let them be visible. You don’t try to make a bold statement by doing this, because you’re just like “It’s natural what can I do about this ? It is what it is.” . People immediately pick up on this type of mentality from you. People want you to teach them how to do it. I am hearing “Teach me your ways master” lol . You seem really wise and you know how to not take everything personally. Really an old soul. 

Back to the physical trait thing (because I think people scrutinize your face a lot when they first meet you), you might have a roman nose, or you might look really “ethnic” or “exotic” to people. Maybe you’re a POC in a predominantly white environment, or you just look quite different from your peers.

-> Ok guys, I am picking up on something INSANE. People who would usually bully others for that physical trait you have, sense your strong self-respect and energy and are instantly subconsciously afraid to make fun of you or to try to belittle you. This is actually so fucked up what… I don’t know what is going on in this entire reading but a lot of low vibrational energies were channeled. Anyways. I feel like you grew up being the weird kid that grew into your features and personality, and now, retired high school bullies (not the one that bullied you, if it happened, just general retired high school bullies) lowkey sense they would have bullied you in the past if you were in the same class as them but now can’t do it because it’s lame and not socially acceptable for adults to do shit like that.

People are kind of scared to sit in your energy for too long when they first meet you and have their impressions about you because they feel like their energies are not high vibrational enough for them to be allowed to sit in your powerful energy for too long ?? Lol You intimidate people a lot but they don’t know why, they just feel the urge to shut the f up in your presence and just bathe in your energy silently ?? Weird 

Okay Pile 3, keep it up , never let people dim your light ! Your soul has a powerful pure essence that will  take you far in life.

QUOTE : My soul has traveled long and far to find yours

SONGS : Froot - MARINA / High Maintenance - Saweetie / Icy - ITZY

[candycandy00]

General NSFW Headcanons for One Piece Men

These are just some general sex/intimacy based Headcanons for some of my favorite OP men. I left out Law and Kid until I see more of them post time skip.

Keep in mind these are just my personal opinions! These are all assuming a Fem Reader. Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Luffy: 

I’ve noticed while rewatching/ catching up that this guy is a hugger. He’s not shy at all about giving out affection to people he cares about, and I think that would carry over to more intimate moments. He’d definitely be the type to snuggle up to you during sex, wanting to be as physically close as possible. He might even wrap his arms around you multiple times, not in a restraining way but in a “I just want to completely wrap myself around you” way. 

Some people seem to think Luffy would be completely clueless about sex, but I disagree. I think it’s very likely that Ace explained a few things to him. They were at perfect ages (17 and 14) before Ace set out for a big brother to tell his younger brother about stuff like that. Even if Ace had no actual experience himself, he had to have heard a lot of talk from the bandits. So I think Luffy is aware of the basics at least, and his instincts would cover for whatever knowledge he lacks. He’s surprisingly perceptive at times.

Zoro:

Zoro is the one who would be clueless. Not about the mechanics of sex, but about what you want. This man would miss every signal you send his way, so you’d have to literally state outright that you want to have sex with him. During the act, you’d have to be very clear about what you want him to do, at least the first few times. You’re better off just taking his hands or head and putting them where you want because this guy can’t follow directions to save his life. 

Once the two of you have had sex a few times and he’s learned what you like, he would be a great lover. Zoro puts his all into everything he does, and that includes pleasing his darling. One of his best points is his stamina. He could go for multiple rounds without breaking a sweat, so prepare for long nights.

Sanji:

He’s all about his darling’s pleasure. He’d get much more satisfaction from watching you cum than from cumming himself. He would have a massive praise kink, both giving and receiving. He’d also be clingy and want to be intimate in some way with you nearly all the time (though he’d be happy with just cuddling, giving massages, etc. if you’re too tired for sex sometimes). He’d definitely prioritize your needs and wants over his own, mostly because making you happy is what he needs and wants. 

I think he’s definitely a virgin, and he’s the type who will fall madly in love with the first woman who sleeps with him. Once he’s in love and in a committed relationship, he’s not going to be chasing other women. He’ll still notice a beautiful lady, but he won’t comment on them or visibly react, because he doesn’t want to upset his darling or make her feel insecure.

Usopp: 

This guy right here? He’s the one to keep your eye on. Because once he actually gets some experience, he’ll be one of the best lovers in the series. The first time he’s gonna be nervous and awkward, probably boasting that he’s had a thousand lovers whom he satisfied completely (while nearly fainting from nerves). But once he gets over those initial nerves, he’s gonna lock in on learning all the best techniques. When Usopp gets serious about something, he studies and practices until he’s great at it. 

I also have a headcanon that he’s got a huge dick (I mean, look at that nose) and just doesn’t know how to use it yet. Emphasis on yet. Give him some time and he’ll rock your world.

Franky:

The best thing about Franky as a lover is that he’s completely nonjudgmental. Have a wild kink you wanna try? He’s shrugging and saying sure, let’s go for it. Insecure about a part of your body? He’s showing you some crazy modification he’s made to his own just to prove all bodies are unique and wonderful. You’re never gonna feel shamed over anything with Franky, and that’s so freeing. The next best thing is that this guy will come equipped with all sorts of toys and gadgets to spice up the sex. If he doesn’t have what you want, he can just construct it on the fly. 

It’s hard for me to decide whether I think he’s had a lot of experience or not. I’m guessing he’s had some given his age, background, and being a self professed pervert. He seems like he would be a sex positive person, or maybe just see it as no big deal. Just another way to express affection. I think he’s pretty chill about sex, basically.

Brook:

Okay, so Brook is pretty limited by the fact that he’s a skeleton and has no dick or tongue to work with. But he does have those long pianist’s fingers, and he’d certainly be happy to use them to please his darling. As we all know, he also has a panty fetish, so the easiest way to get him riled up would be to model the cute new sets you bought. He’s still a gentleman though, so he treats his darling with care and respect, always asking for permission before touching you and making you feel valued. 

He probably had a decent amount of experience when he was alive, but he’s very new to being intimate as a skeleton. There would be some trial and error and he might get a little depressed about his limitations, but I think he’d get over it fairly quickly and just be happy to have someone special in his, uh, life.

Ace: 

In my opinion, Ace would be very warm and loving in bed. Very passionate. Like his brother, he’d be very affectionate with his darling. This is a man who places a ton of value on bonds, on loving and being loved. He’s definitely going to show how much he loves you, in the most intimate way possible. Think lots of eye contact, physical closeness, slow and very deep fucking. I don’t think he’d be the super romantic type to leave a trail of rose petals to the bed or whatever, but once the two of you are in bed he’s giving you his undivided attention and just enjoying the feeling of being inside you. Also kinda think he’d have a bit of a breeding kink. 

I think it’s highly likely he’s had some experience. He’s a handsome, likable guy who traveled around a lot by himself. Judging by how he blushed around Makino, it’s a safe bet he likes ladies. Specifically, pretty ladies who show him kindness. I don’t think he’d be shy or awkward but I can’t really see him acting like some arrogant sex god either.

Shanks:

Get ready for some sloppy drunken sex. I’m talking making out as you both make your way to the bed, tripping on stuff along the way and giggling like teenagers. You might not remember everything that happened, but you know it was fun! I somehow can’t picture Shanks settling down in a committed relationship but he would agree to being exclusive with you. So you guys wouldn’t be a couple but anytime he’s drunk and horny you’re the one he goes to. And if you’re in his crew, you’re probably half drunk yourself. But you guys have an agreement, so consent was already given. Shanks would give you a great time and be charming and funny, but he’s gone by the time you wake up. 

He’s definitely had an active sex life. He’s too charming not to. Too well traveled and handsome. And while some of his past lovers miss him, none of them regret their time with him and look back on it fondly.

Buggy:

Similar to Usopp, Buggy would be full of false bravado at first. But when it comes time to do the deed, he’s strangely shy. Buggy isn’t used to being loved and cherished. He hasn’t had that since he was a kid, so he’s going to need a lot of reassuring. You’d have to stroke his ego a bit to get him in the right headspace to have sex. But once you do, he’ll be a surprisingly sweet and giving lover. He’ll want to be a dom, but will usually end up being a bit subby to you. He’d probably become very emotionally attached to you if you give him a blowjob. Giving him any sort of kindness or genuine love will make him fall head over heels.

I’m torn between thinking Buggy is still a virgin and thinking he had some experience in his younger, wilder days. He doesn’t strike me as the type to have a lot of one night stands, but he could have had a relationship at some point that we just don’t know about.

Crocodile:

A lot of people want to see him as a brat tamer, and I see the appeal, but in my opinion he’d prefer a mature relationship. I think he’d want someone classy that would match his vibe. So he’s going to keep his darling dressed up in the finest clothes and jewelry. I have a headcanon that he’s a sucker for fancy lingerie. He loves buying it for you, seeing you wear it, and especially taking it off you, slowly, piece by piece. I also think he’d be into some light bondage. Nothing too elaborate, just tying your wrists together with his belt occasionally. 

For Crocodile, the most intimate act would be showering together. Because of his weakness to water, he’s incredibly vulnerable while showering, so he’s only going to invite you to join him if he trusts you completely. Doesn’t get more intimate than that.

Rob Lucci:

He’s going to be a very stoic lover, not very verbal at all in the heat of the moment, but his body will tell you all you need to know. He would be very primal, hands on your throat, taking you from behind, growling in your ear. But at the same time, he’s making sure you’re totally satisfied. Don’t expect an actual relationship with this man. He’ll rearrange your guts and then disappear before you can roll over. But he keeps coming back to you. He might even develop a soft spot for you, so long as you respect his privacy and don’t ask for a commitment. 

The bird stays in the room, but give it some crackers as a distraction and it won’t stare the whole time. 

[strwberri-milk]

can i request the boys thinking mc is cheating bc she’s been acting off and hanging with other people, then they confront her but learn later that it’s something else that’s been going on (like her wanting to keep a problem hidden from them) angsty or fluffy ending it’s up to you im just craving angst 😓

Zayne doesn't want to directly confront you. He's terrified that somehow, he'll mess everything up and that right now, not knowing is better than confirming his fear. He'll just continue observing you for a bit, trying to figure out if there's something that can definitively point towards you actually having an affair. Your behaviour is strange but he won't feel too concerned until you start actively pulling affection away from him. That's when he's going to really start panicking. He doesn't know what he's done or said to make you take such a drastic step in your relationship and this is absolutely going to devastate him.

He'll talk to you one evening after you come home late. He tries to open it up by telling you that if it's something he's said or done to you then he's sorry and he promises he'll do whatever it takes to fix things between the two of you. It's you, and it's always been you. He can't even fathom being with anybody that isn't you. He'll ramble a little for once, not really able to accurately use his words as he tries to express how much he loves you.

You realise very quickly where he's going with all of this, immediately shutting him down as you tell him that you aren't seeing somebody else. He listens with bated breath to try and comprehend everything you're telling him, praying that you aren't lying to him because if you were, it'd definitely break him.

You'd probably have to ruin the surprise if you wanted him to feel fully secure after this conversation, especially since you also were hanging off of people when you normally don't seem to. He might feel a little insecure about your relationship for a while before settling into the routine again with you, but as long as you're wholly honest with him it'll pass fairly quickly.

Xavier wants to follow you around but he also knows it'd piss you off if he did. He'll just start paying more attention to events when the two of you are together and even more attention to things if it seems you're purposefully not inviting him to something. He's trying to understand why and what for, not wanting to directly accuse you but his jealousy definitely ramps up.

You'd have to talk to him as he slowly starts to escalate, becoming more pissy if you have plans with friends or when he responds poorly to you taking calls in his presence. He doesn't really say too much but he does make it very clear just how displeased he is with the look on his face or the way he practically grabs you whenever you're doing things with him.

He gets a little rougher with you overall - not in a painful way, in a distracted, irritated way. He doesn't want to hurt you on purpose and typically you don't really respond to this difference in pressure because it's nothing crazy but you can tell that he's starting to really internalise everything that's happening around him. When you do talk to him he listens with a furrow in his brow, trying to figure out if you're telling him the truth, or this is some elaborate lie for you to throw him off your scent.

He believes you pretty quickly but he is also going to be really skeevy about letting you do things without him for a bit. He just wants to spend time with you after all and after all this emotional turmoil you owe him a few stress-free dates.

Rafayel is not pleased. He makes it clear the second he thinks something is wrong by being colder and less affectionate with you. He isn't wholly above following you and figuring out who you're hanging out with, trying to figure out if there really is a chance that you are trying to have an affair.

You'd get some emotional whiplash from how differently he's acting, how he's making it clear that you've wronged him somehow but he isn't going to talk to you about it. He's avoidant, waiting for you to admit the truth. He's also patient, which means you could be iced out for weeks if you decide not to talk to him about what's happening.

He might spoil the surprise for himself if he goes fully into surveillance after which he'd just tell you that he figured out what you were hiding from him. You'd be a little disappointed but also more concerned as to how he managed to figure it out without tipping you off. He won't tell you at all about how he got the information - just that he did.

If he decides not to stalk you a little you'd have to ask him why he's so mad at you. He'd tell you that he's just treating you the same way you've been treating him, and that as far as he's concerned, this is deserved. You'd have to tell him the truth and why you've been hiding all this information from him - after which he will brighten up significantly. He'll say something about how he's never doubted you, yadda yadda yadda but he's definitely more clingy now than before from his nerves finally starting to settle.

Sylus doesn't want to monitor you either and decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. He's fairly secure in your relationship and knows that he hasn't done anything to make you want to cheat but he does feel himself faltering if you're becoming prone to laughing at your phone or trying to hide it from him. He won't ask for it but you can see that he's starting to get suspicious.

He would leave it alone until you reveal to him your surprise. By then he's still feeling fairly anxious but when you reveal that your behaviour was all just a result of you trying to plan something for him then he'll relax a little, thanking you for the effort you went through. You can tell that he's very glad that you've finally come clean when he holds your hand tightly, practically clinging to you as he thanks you.

He'll plan some more elaborate dates for you after the reveal, making it clear that he's missed your attention being solely on him. You don't really mind though since he's basically throwing money at you, spoiling you silly and reminding you just how much he's willing to do for you.

[emi-matchu]

I like and agree with this, and also one modifier I'll add is like

if part of your answer is "I want to waste less time scrolling or whatever", that's probably a good idea! the thing about it is that it's a serious project

it won't happen by means of just willpower and yelling at yourself when you "fail"; it'll happen by analyzing the contributing factors that have you falling into that coping mechanism on the regular, and working to address them

Idk I think it's definitely important to recognize that doomscrolling is often not a choice as such, to stop shaming ourselves for not just trivially being "better"; but also that it's often not just some untouchably disabling force of nature bigger than our own power to change, and we can actually treat it as part of our own lives as something to choose to shape

It's good to give ourselves permission to do less! and that's a lot of what I needed to hear the past few years. but now I'm in a life moment where doing less has gotten me about as far as it'll go, and what I need now is to trust myself to solve the puzzle of what's holding me back from doing more, and change it.

I of course do not know everyone's life or what is or isn't possible for them… I just know that, for a long time, I was wrong about what's possible for me.

And it's been going well 🌻

Remember that if you want to do more of something, you have to do less of something else. It's that time of year where people set goals for the new year and they have plans and hopes and it's always focusing on what they want to do more of. More studying, more exercise, more crafting, more socialising, more making things from scratch. Okay, great. What are you going to do less of in order to have the time and energy to do more of those things you really want to do?

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Rites: Valentine

Same-sex relationship is still illegal in my country and punishable with prison term, that's why me and my boyfriend always have to lay low in public and even also took some extra measures in private to ensure our safety. But, for Valentine's Day, we always did something special for the past 2 years and we absolutely planned to do it again this year. Last year it was two stereotypical American college football jocks, this year.....well, we wanted something different

We stumbled upon this opportunity during our research about moving out from our country and settle in an entirely different one. They helped people to relocate for short-term, like quick break from daily living, to long-term such as a complete change of life. Was it the alcohol or what that clouded our judgment back then, but we followed through the procedure back at that day from that shady website and found ourselves the following morning not next to each other and in a completely different country altogether. It was chaotic but we managed to found each other and have the best sex of our relationship to that date before all in a sudden ripped away from the two fine dadbod to return to our ordinary life when the time was up

This year, we're much more well-planned and prepared as we decided to go to Brazil to celebrate our 3rd Valentine together. Spotting that Valentine falls on Friday this year, we also requested a return back to our body by Sunday evening in our country timezone because we still need to go to work on Monday after all

"Ready?"

"Always. Directly DM me, okay?"

"Sure thing, babe,"

"Okay, good night,"

---

I know it's our third time doing this, but it's always giving me such chills to open my eyes and found myself to not be in bed but actually in the middle of doing something inside a completely different body. We did mention to the agency to land us inside fit, 21-35 years old age group Brazilian men, but the weight of it really only hit when you experienced it, and it's certainly true for this one because this guy I'm in is thick!

It's Friday morning here in Rio, and I'm inside this huge tatted hunk named Gonzalo, his buzzcut and overall style makes him look very intimidating but there's a charming side to this handsome stud that I know I won't be able to resist if he flashes his smile to me. A small dog on a leash that I held added another element of surprise because I'm terrified of dog and I really cannot touch dog but I think Gonzalo here has no problem with it, right? I quickly take a selfie of myself and directly send the picture to my boyfriend's Insta as Gonzalo's insta is accessible anyway. Ohhh....he's typing right away, so he logged in to his account already huh......I wonder how he looks like

"Morning, handsome stranger. Just finished with my morning run, I'm reeked. Name's Joao,"

Fuck me, he's looking like a snack! Gonzalo's memory is filled with women and these repeated names of Carla that appeared in a lot of the memory, a girlfriend of Gonzalo apparently, but sorry to that woman, boyfriend is not going to celebrate Valentine's Day with her this year. I started to add my own input to Gonzalo's mind and make this body heated for the snack that is Joao on my screen, as I type my reply stating my interest to come over to check out how reeked he is. This two dudes might not actually know each other, but we don't really care about all that because what mattered for now is the fact that my boyfriend is inside of that man and I want to give him the love and fucking he deserved for his Valentine's Day

Once I receive the detail of his apartment location and another sultry selfie of his already taking off his musky cap and sweaty tanktop, I'm headed his way with the dog coming along with me.

The temperature in Rio is not that different with our hometown, so I find no problem strutting around over here through the walkways to the apartment located around 25 minutes walk from Gonzalo's residence. The people is definitely a lot more diverse and wearing a much-more revealing clothes compared to my hometown, but really, my mind just wandered to the idea of my boyfriend inside that taut Brazilian twunk, probably still sweaty with almost no clothings on already waiting for me. The colors of the street, the sight and senses of a new city, everything becomes secondary as I can feel the throbbing meat is accustomed to its owner's gay thoughts and just ready to be released from its cotton prison.

When I finally ring the bell of his apartment unit, the door opened quickly to the sight I simply cannot resist. I instantly lunged at him for a kiss and before long, we're already stripped naked from all our clothings as we consummate our Brazilian outings right here in this apartment while the sun shines nicely on us and the neighbors clearly can see us fucking each other but not gonna call police on us

[hearts4mica]

Imagine: Batsis going on a date and batfam not being happy about it.

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

“It’s a classmate.” You mumbled, looking down as you avoided everyone’s gaze.

"A guy from school?" Dick asked, a smirk leaving his face.

"That's even worse!" Damian protested. "Schools are full of hormones and crazy kids."

“It’s valentines day! Im not staying at home doing nothing!” You respond sassily

"Valentines day has nothing to do with this!" Damian asked before sighing exasperatedly.

"Are you even old enough to be dating? What do you know about love?" Jason asked

“Do you even know about love Jason? You’ve been single for over a decade-“ Tim says snickering

"Well i was dead thank you very much replacement!" Jason rolls his eyes.

“And who even is this guy [name]? Do we know him?” Bruce asked finally speaking after being silent for modt of the dinner.

“Well maybe you do?” You asked lowering your voice.

“What does that even mean [name]?!” Jason hufs tiredly why would even his sister go out on a date?! At night! In gotham! That’s like literally asking to die!

Tim almost laughed as well but stopped when Dick elbowed him. "So, who's the lucky one that is going to take our baby sister out?"

"Is he nice? Is he funny? Is he handsome?" Stephanie asked, getting excited. After all she was the one who ‘accidentally’ spilled your secret.

Damian scoffed, "I bet he's stupid. He is a man after all”

“I think it’s that guy that came over last week!” Stephanie says adding more drama to this

“So his name is Bryan? Such a stupid name. Are you seriously going out with him [name]?” Damian says while reading your texts!- how did he even?!

“Damian!” You say while quickly standing up reaching towards him but he throws the phone to Jason

Jason continues to read “Hey sweetheart?’ Ew [name] seriously? Ahem- So meet you today at-” the phone gets yanked from his hands by Alfred!

You thank alfred while he gives you back your phone

“You shouldn’t take things that aren’t yours? Don’t you know that already?” Alfred begins scolding Jason and Damian.

“[name] you can go on your… date but you have to come home before 7pm” Bruce states calmly

“Father are you seriously letting her go?! She will be with a boy! What if a villian attacks. She can’t go she’s to weak to defend herself.” Damian says it was obvious he didn’t want you to go! Since you’re his older sister! You had to spend the day with him! Your favorite brother!

“Thank you very much Damian” you mutter under your breath.

“Dad! Thanks for letting me go! But can’t my curfew be until uuhh 10pm? You ask Bruce.

You are obviously pushing your luck but trying never harmed anyone.

He said no. Of course he would.

Well atleast you don’t have to sneak out today!

———————————————————————————

Your lucky that they won’t stalk you!

Right?…

———————————————————————————

Tim ended up stalking you by watching the security cameras! Of course you didn’t have to know about that! He had the bad luck to watch you and your date have a little peck before coming back to the house.

He is definitely showing Bruce this.

———————————————————————————

Reposts and comments are thanked!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

[hoonquette]

these are the days, nishimura riki.

【 another night with your friendly neighborhood spider-man 】 fem ! r 𓈒 fluff college au spider-man!riki + 665wc ── incl. mentions of injuries unproofread writing.

it's been an entire month since you've gotten a full night's rest. granted, you should be used to it—college has definitely ruined your sleep schedule for the next four years—but you'd gotten at least three hours of sleep.

thanks to nishimura riki, your friendly neighborhood spider-man (more commonly known as your boyfriend), those three hours have been reduced to maybe one. since you've found out about his identity, you've spent most nights worrying about his wellbeing, other nights were spent patching him up and tending to his wounds.

tonight is one of those nights.

one of the nights where you rub ointment against his bruised and cut skin, a look of disapproval on your face. he's tried talking to you, but you didn't answer, not wanting to snap at him for being so.. impulsive.

when you're done, you sigh, closing up the first aid kit you'd bought after the second time he came through your window. he stares at you, his eyes apologetic and a small frown on his lips.

he had changed once you let him in, throwing off his mask, and changing into one of the pair of sweats he'd left here. he foregone a shirt—wanting you to see the bruise that'd no doubt be forming on his back after being slammed against a wall.

you nearly strangled him when he told you that.

you understand that this is his unofficial job, something that he enjoys, but it doesn't mean you have to like it. especially when he's not being as careful as you would like him to be.

"alright, fine." he starts, leaning back on your bed, "i'll stop going after the small guys."

"i'm not worried about the 'small guys', ki."

"car jackers can be dangerous. so can—" you interrupt, hitting him with a pillow. he rolls away and lets out a surprised yelp. from the edge of the bed, "you shouldn't hit your injured boyfriend."

"my boyfriend wouldn't be injured if he stopped being stupid."

"i'm a superhero; we're all stupid."

you glare at him and he relents, holding his hands up in surrender. "okay, i'll be more mindful of how hard i'm being hit from now on. good?"

"not good," you crawl over to him, laying next to his body, "but fine. just stop coming over when you look like you're about to pass out. go to an actual hospital."

he rolls over again, this time so that he's hovering above you. suddenly, it feels like you're the one with the concussion—no matter how long you're with him, you don't think you'll ever get used to the close proximity riki seems to crave—and you look away.

you can see him smile out of your peripheral, biting his lip to keep from laughing. "hey, look at me."

you debate not listening to him, but you know he won't speak again until you do, so you (hesitantly) look at him.

riki's smile brightens and he places a kiss on your nose, then on your cheek, forehead, and finally your lips. the kiss lasts for a fleeting moment, but it melts you all the same.

"i wanna be with you, though." he kisses you again, "want your face to be the last thing i see before i faint from exhaustion."

you can't help the giggles that escape, turning your head away from him and covering his mouth with your hand. "stop—don't say that."

"it's true." he pulls your hand from his mouth, but not before kissing it. "plus, i can't go to a hospital, dork."

"okay, okay, whatever. new rule: be better than the other superheros. be smart."

"that gave me chills. you should be a motivational speaker."

you shove him off of you, telling him yo be serious as you do so, and your boyfriend lets out a dramatic scream of so-called pain. when he's done with his mini-monologue about how mean of a girlfriend you are, he caresses your cheek.

"i'll be smarter, though, make you worry you less. promise."

ADRiANNA 🦷 hai :3 i needed a spiderman!riki fic in order to heal from Well idk most things

[whispsofwind]

I am probably (definitely) kicking the hornet's nest but... I feel like there's a disconnection in how people approach HP because I've seen so many people say "but aren't the books explicitly anti racism? How can the author be all those bad things if her books are explicitly anti racism?".

And the point is... they're not. At least they weren't intended to be: the whole pure blood thing is less about race, and more about the ridiculous "noble blood" classism that still exists in England. And once I got that I completely revaluated my interpretation of those books.

I loved those books as a child, and I am not going to sit here and tell they're all vad, because they're not. They ARE a cultural phenomenon that shaped both pop culture and Internet culture for the last 20 freaking years, though. And they will continue to do so, if nothing else because outside of the English speaking sphere, PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT JOANNE'S HATE CAMPAIGNS. Like I cannot emphasise enough, not English speaking people often don't know.

And therefore I feel it's important not only to speak up about the author, but also analyse where the books succeeded or failed, and why.

The elves were adapted from the brownies... with disastrous results, especially if you consider Hermione's campaign. The metaphor with licantropism is an absolute disaster. The way in which muggles are presented (either evil, stupid or both) is ... also not a good look, considering the context. The series is genuinely morally confused, I dare say. It professes the importance of Love TM while also refusing to take a critical look at its own dystopian world building.

Death of the author, or separating the art from the author, are also not supposed to be an absolute frame of reference. They are literary analysis tools that allow you to analyse a work without taking the will of the author into consideration (example: CS Lewis was deeply Catholic and intended Susan not going to Narnia in the end as a metaphor for loss of faith. However maybe I want to analyses Susan's arc in light of misogyny, and the correlation between sexuality and loss of innocence, rather than religion. I am literally ignoring authorial intent to do so, but it's a very valid reading).

However I feel like you cannot analyse any work of art in an absolute vacuum, and expurging the author from the art completely feels, to me, rather simplistic.

I am also not entirely comfortable with the idea of Death of the Author being used as a frame of reference for the relationship with the work AND the author, rather than being used as a simple literary tool.

I always felt like the better approach is to evaluate how to cause less damage and bring the most happiness all around. Does buying the work of Lovecraft cause any harm in this world? I would argue not, since the man is well enough dead. Does buying HP products, or Orson Scott Card's works, or Silvana de Mari's books, cause harm? I would argue yes, because these authors use they money and their platforms to attach real, vulnerable people in a systemic way right here right now. Does SPEAKING about those works cause harm? Does engaging with the fandom aspect of them cause harm? That's more complicated. Critical analysis of a work is, imo, always a net positive, and there's the very real fact that some people pour their hearts and souls into a fandom because it genuinely brings happiness to them and to people around them, and because it allows them to enhance the original world in order to ACTUALLY address the issues that were ignored. That cannot be discounted. However, at the same time it cannot be ignored that talking about a work keeps it alive, which keeps it marketable; then again, fandom's impact on ... anything large scale is negligible when compared to, again, thousands upon thousands of people across the world who don't look the author up, don't engage critically with the text, and just think the Hogwarts Lego Model looks super cute. Which is, like, 90% of the population.

I suppose the main conclusion is nuance: morality is complicated, and making the "morally right" choice is nuanced, deeply personal, and I am not going to judge anyone because they want to reread Harry Potter or want to watch Good Omens Season 3 or whatever, because the world and our impact in it is much more complicated than "person bad, therefore damnatio memoriae good".

hey do you think you could expand a bit on separating the art from the artist? clearly you’ve done it with jk rowling but what are your thoughts on it as a general idea?

okay, but you’re not going to like the answer.

here’s the truth: you can’t separate the art from the artist. not entirely. HP Lovecraft was an incredibly talented, but much more incredibly racist man. It would nice to say you don’t agree with his views but you can enjoy his works without that leaking in but…. well, I’m afraid that would be misunderstanding his books entirely.

Consider, for a second, that Lovecraft’s works were horror stories about extradimensional alien monsters having mutant children with humans, they were about invasions from distant monsters, they were about the purity of quaint European towns being tainted. Consider how this may have all been inflicted by the fact that he just simply despised anybody who wasn’t white. Consider how is opinions on “mixing the races” might fight into this; consider why being unable to maintain the “purity” of white Europe was the scariest thing of all to him.

This extends to Rowling too.

I would love to say we can just acknowledge that she is an awful, racist, antisemitic, transphobic person and then say “but at least her books are good,” because, well, they are, aren’t they? I would say so, for sure. But to suggest that one can separate her from them is…. ridiculous.

Consider why an antisemitic woman wrote about a species of goblins who live among us, but who for the most part keep to themselvesand are maybe a little bit oppressed by the institution, but also hold all the cards, all the money, run the banks.

Consider why a racist woman would write about a species of slaves who loved being enslaved, who enjoyed working for no pay, and cleaning up after humans, with the only small caveat of that they didn’t want to be beaten. Imagine that only the most radical of their species wanted to be free, and he still spent the rest of his life working for no pay and helping out a little white boy and his friends wherever he could. Consider why the only person in the story who thought they should be free, that they should have rights, was treated as an overzealous joke, who was acting against the wishes of those slaves who really LOVE being enslaved. Consider that Rowling went on to say that she kind of considers that girl to be black, now.

Consider why JK Rowling, an open and proud transphobe, wrote Rita Skeeter as having a large square jaw, thick “manly” hands, and dressing incredibly gaudily with the most obvious fake nails and fake teeth and fake hair and fake everything. Consider why a woman who tweets about how trans women are “foxes pretending to be hens to get in the hen house” might write this Rita Skeeter to then illegally transform her body in order to spy on children.

Harry Potter is full of Rowling’s bigotry, start to finish. Not even tangentially, like, “oh the goblins are bad, Rita Skeeter is bad, the house elves are bad, but most of it’s good!” because the deeper you dig and the longer you think the more you realise the entire story is based on her prejudices.

Harry Potter pretends to be an aracial story about found family, but if that were true, why are Harry’s distant ancestors important to who he is today even in the seventh book? Why does Harry have to live with his cousin and aunt and uncle? Because magic inherently prefers blood ties. Whilst Rowling was writing a story that seemed to say, “your heritage is not that important and doesn’t make you better than others” she was still writing a story about a boy who got all of his money through his bloodline, who was protected by living with his bloodline, no matter how evil, who was uniquely able to stop Voldemort because his bloodline passed down the invisibility cloak for generations and generations. Any step Harry takes he is compared to his perfect parents who were exactly like him — he looks just like his father, but he has his mother’s eyes, you know! — consider WHY a woman who is racist might’ve written a story like this. A story that on its surface, condemns a blood caste, but still in every step it takes, validates the idea that blood is thicker than water, and your geneological origin is what makes you special.

You can enjoy Harry Pottwr, of course you can. There are fantastic parts. I love a small group of teenagers deciding to become anarchies rebels and train to fight against fascism in secret. I love the murder mystery plots, I love how the series tells kids that it’s a good thing to be brave, and a good thing to fight injustice, and a good thing to challenge the government. But I cannot separate it from its author because it is such a product of its author. All of the structures of the world, the way things work in the universe, and drenched in Rowling’s beliefs, her bigotries. Of course they are: she made them.

Again. This doesn’t mean you cannot enjoy it. But I think we are past the day where we can pretend that disavowing a bigoted author is enough, and that that somehow separates the text from its bigotry. I think we are past the day where we can pretend that Harry Potter isn’t a deeply, inherently bigoted piece of media. Even the bits we love. I think we are beyond the day where we can truthfully pretend to separate it from her, because she is present through all of it. We MUST recognise its flaws. We MUST admit that she is in every part of it.

[honeyhotteoks]

₊ ⊹ ⟡ too hot to handle (송민기 ♡ s.mg)

your neighbor has more to give than you bargained for.

style: bullet drabble pairing: non idol!mingi x fem!reader word count: 1.8k tags/warnings: smut, pwp, light fluff, neighbor!mingi, fem!reader, big dick, like monster cock level she can't do anything with it, sub!mingi, like super sub, dom!reader, teasing, praise, heavy use of good boy/perfect boy etc., makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, face riding, lots of dirty talk, dick on clit action, controlled orgasms, edging and overstim, eventual piv notes: this has been on the brain for longer than i could ever tell you so hopefully it's a fun one x

[masterlist]

The problem with your neighbor isn’t that he’s hot. It isn’t that he’s funny and charming, and it definitely isn’t the crush bubbling between the both of you. Those would be normal problems, problems you tell your best friends about. 

The problem with your neighbor is that his dick is too big. 

You find that out at the same time you find out this giant who lives next door to you with the deep voice and a penchant for calling you “pretty girl” is actually not the dominant you assumed he would be.

Mingi is actually shockingly, surprisingly submissive. 

And you shockingly, surprisingly, love that more than you ever could have guessed. 

You figure that out while you’re straddling him on the couch, and when you roll your hips just right you feel the impressive hardness of him and hear the neediest whimper you’ve ever heard from a man at the exact same time. 

It takes you thirty minutes more of making out and shedding clothes for you to get a good look at his cock, and when you do it grinds the whole almost-fuck to a stop.

And -

“I know,” He breathes, his eyes softening, “it’s okay if you don’t want to keep going.” 

You blink at him, unable to hide the trepidation in your eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to try,” 

“It’s okay,” He sounds dejected, but also like this has happened to him before and that fills you with nothing but sharp determination. 

“Hang on,” You lay a hand over his bare chest, still straddling his lap, the impressive length and girth of his cock standing between you. 

“Listen,” He sighs, “I get it,” 

“Mingi,” You interrupt him, “I’m not kicking you out,” 

“You’re not?” His eyebrows raise. 

“No,” You smile, “I do think we should maybe… work up to things,” 

“Of course,” He rushes to agree, his hands sliding up and down your bare thighs. 

“It’s just,” You grimace, “I haven’t had sex in a long time, like a really long, kind of embarrassing amount of time,” 

“That’s okay,” He soothes. 

“I’d be lying if I said I thought I could take you,” You sigh, “but Mingi, I’d really, really like to work up to it,” 

“Yeah?” He grins like he just won the lottery. 

“Uh-huh,” You swallow a little nervously, “just maybe not tonight?” 

“Right,” He nods, “anything you want,” 

“Is that okay?” You check, sliding closer to him, his bare cock brushing against your abdomen. 

“Okay?” He nods, “Of course, it’s… I mean, I like you. I want to do whatever you want, that’s what I want,” 

He’s a little flustered, still walking a nervous line like you might change your mind, or he’s worried about coming on too strong, and you take him in for a moment. 

Somewhere inside, you find the boldness to ask the question you’ve wanted to ask since you heard his first whimpered moan, “Mingi,” You murmur, “is that what you’re into? Doing what I want?”

His eyes flick over your face, but you don’t miss the way they darken up at the idea and he nods, “If you’re into that,” he says, “but I can take over if you need me to,” 

You wonder how many girls have begged him to be more dominant. How many girls have pushed him to go to a place that isn’t entirely comfortable for him, when he clearly wants the opposite. 

“I’m into that,” You tell him, “don’t worry,” 

You both click together like kinky little puzzle pieces, and despite the fact that you’ve never had his dick properly inside you, you’ve been having sex for weeks. 

You get creative. 

Mingi and his giant cock seem to love nothing more than making you feel good, especially when you use his big body to get yourself off. 

The first few times you hook up it’s the basics, getting to know each other, getting to know each other's bodies and what makes each other tick… but by the fourth time? The fifth? 

The fourth time you’re a horny mess, probably a breath away from ovulating and ready to climb his tall ass like a tree, and so all the hesitation you’ve had about being too much for each other flies right out the window. 

With him pinned to your bed you ride his thigh like it’s a pillow, barely looking at him as you get yourself off, and when you’re done all he can do is beg you to do that again, but on his face. 

He whimpers when his tongue first slips inside your folds, when he feels the weight of your body sink onto him. His hands grip your ass and between sucks and moans he begs you to ride him, to fuck his face and never stop. 

With your hands on the headboard you take it just like before, eyes closed, head thrown back, your moans spilling out into the room . 

He comes untouched that time, ropes and ropes of his hot cum painting his chest and stomach, panting apologies into your thighs, and that’s when everything changes. 

Now you tell him when to come. How to come. Where to come. 

You discover that he loves to be edged and you love to be overstimulated. 

A perfect combination of opposites. 

You make him beg for things, ache for things, his cock leaking against your lips as he whines. 

“Please, please, just a taste, just a lick, please, god, please,” 

And sometimes you let him have it, but most of the time you don’t. 

He seems to like that even more. 

Mingi and his big cock have found so many other ways to get off that you almost never want to give into having him inside you, because what if your dynamic changes? The anticipation is the delicious part, the denial, the almost-almosts. 

The way he begs when he’s on his knees between your splayed thighs, his shaft rubbing against your slick folds, sliding over your clit - that’s when you almost break. 

“You f-feel so good,” He shudders, thrusting his hips slowly back and forth so that his cock slides up and down your aching center. 

“Mm,” You sigh, relaxing into the mattress, “good boy,” 

His cock twitches at that, “Thank you, thank you,” 

“Go faster, baby,” You beckon him down with a come-hither motion, “fuck me like you mean it,” 

He freezes, “I-inside?” 

“Did I say inside?” You counter. 

“No, no, of course, I’m sorry,” He stumbles past that assumption and shakes his head, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You nod, a silent push to get him to move faster, and he scrambles to comply. 

He braces himself over your spread form on the bed, your hips slotting more tightly together, and then he braces his forearms on either side of you and starts to thrust. 

“Faster,” 

His hips speedup. 

Every brush of his shaft over your swollen clit makes you want to writhe and moan beneath him, but keeping control is the fun part for him, so you stay focused. 

“That’s it, baby,” You brush your fingers through his shaggy locks, “such a good boy,” 

He moans, but keeps the pace. 

“Mm,” You sigh through an almost moan, “baby, your cock feels so good inside me,” 

His hips jerk, a stammered groan on his lips. 

The tease was meant for him, a reminder of where his cock isn’t, but heat spreads through your belly at the idea of what he might feel stretching you open for real. 

“Say it,” You open your legs wider, angling your hips to get the sensation right. 

“Your pussy feels so good,” He pants. 

“Don’t stop,” You direct him again. 

“So tight,” He whines, “so wet,” 

“More, baby.” 

“S-so perfect,” He shudders, his eyes tightly closed, “thank you for l-letting me fuck you,” 

“Oh,” You murmur warmly, “that’s my good boy.” 

He chokes, his thrusts getting harder, a relentless rut of his wet cock against your dripping pussy and you bite down on your tongue at the impulse to beg him to fuck you for real. You’re dizzy, orgasm drunk, and your nails dig into his hips to hold yourself steady. 

“Please,” He pants suddenly, eyes flashing open to find yours, “please, may I come?” 

You’re too close for that, “Hold it, baby,” 

His expression tightens in tense control, “P-please,”

“I’m close,” You tell him, “hold it,”

Tears prick at his eyes and you feel the wet string of his precum on your belly, but he listens. 

A moan pulls free from your chest then, your pleasure fast approaching, and you breathe in hot fits and starts. 

“Come on my cock,” He begs, pleads, “I’m so good for you,” 

Your orgasm crashes into you sideways, the relentless stroke over your clit sending you into pleasured little shakes. 

“Please, I c-can’t, I can’t hold it,” He fists the sheets, his voice a thready wet pant. 

“Come,” You give him all the permission he needs, “come inside me, baby, fill me up,” 

He shudders, thrusting hard twice more, and with groaning moans he spills his release all across your belly, spattering you both in hot cum. 

He’s shaking, trembling, but you run your fingers through his hair and soothe him soft like always. He’s your good boy, your perfect boy, your most obedient boy. 

In the aftermath, when you both come down from your messy, full body pleasure, you find each other in the sheets. 

With kisses across his knuckles you nuzzle into him. 

“Next time, I want you for real,” 

He’s hesitant at first, but you’re ready, you’re sure. 

The next time, you play softer. You’ve learned each other so well, but this time it’s your turn to be vulnerable with your body and he doesn’t let you down for a second. 

It’s a slow process, full of sweetness and foreplay. He’s learned how to make your body sing over weeks and weeks of hookups, and he knows he can make you wet enough, relaxed enough to take him. 

The stretch is achingly delicious. 

And once he’s finally inside you for the first time, your bodies connected in every possible way, you realize he was worth the wait. 

And you fit together in more ways than one. 

As it turns out, your boyfriend’s big dick isn’t such a problem after all. 

[weird-is-life]

First date charm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x singlemom!reader

Summary: You think that Bucky is too good for you

Warnings: fluff, mentions of food, like one swear word

Words: 1.1k

----------------------------------------------------

I'm so sorry, James... but I don't think I'll be able to make it to the restaurant today. Again, I'm really sorry, I don't think i'll be able to see you anymore. You send a text to James Barnes.

The babysitter cancelled on you last minute, and with nobody else to watch your son you had to cancel the date.

Yes, you were definitely bummed about it because the first day with him was pretty much perfect. He was such a gentleman, and it felt like you could talk to him about anything. And it was like you could see him in your future immediately.

But you can't escape the nagging feeling that Bucky deserves better than you, than a single mom with a kid. Even though it hurts you more than you can admit.

Bucky feels devastated when he reads your text. He doesn't know what he did wrong. He thought the things were going great?

It was Sam that put you two together, and at first Bucky wanted to throttle him for setting up the date without asking Bucky first.

But after the first date Bucky was more than thankful. You were so kind and lovely and beautiful, and on Bucky's mind all the time since the date.

So he doesn't know what's happened. He tries to call you like 3 times, hoping for more of an explanation than only that text. He even texts you a few more times.

He starts to get worried when you don't respond. He would be thankful even if you just picked up the phone to tell him to fuck off, but you don't, and it drives him crazy.

He waits for your response for 2 hours, debating on just going up to your apartment to see if you are okay.

But after the 2 hours it gets too much for him. His mind going to the worst possible scenarios. He can't help it. The years of trauma don't make it easy for him to live, and not worry.

He gets to your apartment pretty quickly, his motorcycle makes it easy to speed through traffic. He paces nervously in front of the building, maybe he shouldn't have come here.

He contemplates for a few more minutes, and then rings the bell. Maybe you will think that he's crazy psychopath for showing up at your doorsteps, but he has to make sure you're okay.

You don't expect anybody to ring the bell to your apartment as soon as you put your son to sleep. You definitely don't expect to hear Bucky's voice from the intercom.

His soft 'can I come up?' makes your heart flatter, and you buzz him in. He's up the stairs on your floor quickly. And of course, he has a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"James, what are you doing here?" you ask quietly. He looks so handsome for the cancelled date, and it makes you feel even worse.

"I'm sorry for showing up...You weren't answering your phone, and-and I was worried." He looks apologetically at you.

"My phone....oh-" you quickly dissappear into your apartment, searching for your phone.

Bucky doesn't mean to snoop, but with the door wide open he notices all of the toys and kids stuff. His mouth goes dry a bit.

"I'm sorry, James, I had my phone on quiet.....," you stop talking when you follow Bucky's gaze. His eyes roaming all over the things.

"What's all this? You have a kid?"  Bucky looks baffled, like he just saw a ghost in front of him.

"Yes." You admit, guilt for not telling him all over your face. You thought that Sam had told Bucky about Teo, but you realised on the date that he hadn't.

You wanted to tell him, you really did. But you just wanted to see how the first date goes first. And in between the first and the second date the thoughts of Bucky being too good for you settled in your mind.

I mean, he's so charming, and probably the nicest man you have ever met. He's also so so respectful. And god, he's so handsome as well, those piercing blue eyes? To die for...

"I wanted to tell you, Bucky. I just....you deserve someone else. Not me with a kid. I-I loved our date, but I know what guys think about women with kids. It's not very attractive...," you sigh. You have experienced rejections from guys because of Teo before.

"Wait, wait, wait, doll. Did I give you the impression that I'd care about such things?" Bucky almost immediately asks. "I don't care that you have a kid, I like you, and I loved the date with or without knowing that you have a kid."

"You say that now, but what about when-" he interrupts you before you can finish.

"Doll, I like you! How about we just take it one date at a time, yeah? Let's see where this goes?" Bucky tries to reason with you. He doesn't want to let you go without even getting to know you properly. Like fuck, he hasn't felt this kind of connection in a long, long time.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I'd understand if not, I really would," you try to give him a smile to convince him (and yourself) which doesn't really work.

Bucky slowly takes your hand into his, and squeezes your hand in reassurance, "I'm very sure. I like you, and I don't know If I should be a little offended that you thought I'd mind that you are a mom.."

His attempt at lightening the mood is successful. You chuckle at his words, and he gives you a smile in return.

You eye the bouquet of the flowers in his other hand,"are those for me?"

"Who else?" Bucky murmurs teasingly as he hands you the beautiful flowers.

"Thank you, Bucky. They are beautiful," you say sheepishly, "but I still can't go on the date today. There's nobody who can watch Teo." You tell him a little disappointed.

"No, that's okay, doll. I just wanted to make sure that we were okay, but more importantly that you were okay. I should go tho," he says, and leans down bravely to kiss your cheek goodbye.

He can see your cheeks go rosy instantly. The blush making you even more pretty.

"W-wait, Bucky," you catch his hand before he can turn away, " you could stay, Teo is asleep....we could order pizza or-or whatever you like." You almost face slap yourself for acting like some unsure teenager in love. Stammering over your words.

Bucky thinks it over for a few seconds before he smiles at you," I'd love to, and pizza sounds fantastic."

"Great, c'mon." You happily pull him after you inside the apartment while apologising for all the mess. But Bucky couldn't care less about that, he's just more than happy he gets to spend time with you again.

[thedoodlebuggo]

john doe design progression throughout the season! design choice explanations/rambling below the cut

okok so. it was time for a redesign because after S5 i just couldn't really see the big hat working, not after his projection scene with the witch. it just wouldnt have the same effect if he looked like this jhsagdf

so! a redesign was in order, and i wanted it to change with his character so. here it is. woo!

SEASON ONE -i love the broken mask thing a lot of people use in their designs, and i wanted to use it for season one to play into the "unknown" elements of john's character

-that's also what the more smokey elements play into as well. his form isn't wholly defined, like his character--especially in season one.

-HIS CLOAK! a little worse for wear and covered in ash, courtesy of his time in the dark world. i also wanted it to be darkened and messed up because i didnt want it to be immediately obvious that the original fabric was yellow. one, cause the dark world erased his memories and identity, and two! because i didnt want him to be able to look down and see yellow fabric, what with his not knowing around all the references to KIY in season one. like this

SEASON TWO

-new cloak! after discovering who he is and his brief reunion with KIY, he gets a new cloak. but he's changed now, so--patches! i wanted it to feel handmade sorta because these changes, he worked for himself. he had help and influence, of course, but the humanity he's slowly gaining is his.

-also the mask is gone! we know what he is now

-he's also got some definition now, some lines in the face. os now he's loooking a little more humanoid, but still has a ways to go

SEASON THREE

-mostly the same as S2, but the colors have shifted more to gold than yellow. he's off; he won't fit back with the king. he's changed! woo!

-a bit of damage from the dark world, but nothing too crazy

-getting some more definition too! he's learning a bit more about who he is and who he wants to be through the choices he makes.

SEASON FOUR

-he's got a nose!! and his claws are shorter! woah! just more human development

-also getting some more patches. covering up fixing some of the damage from the S3 DW trip

SEASON FIVE

-claws are gone and he's got developed human features! wahoo

-more structural design change in the cloak. its kinda hard to see here so. better image for reference

-it's also almost entirely patchwork now. he's built his identity brick by brick and his cloak is meant to reflect that.

-still smokey because he's still got room to grow and also i thought changing it to hair would be too sudden of a change but i dont want him to be bald either so

-also smoke is just cool

-lily patch! i feel like this one is kinda self explanatory. i wanted to move the placement so i could put a patch representative of arthur in its place, but i couldnt think of anything that would look cohesive w the rest of it so. keeping the lily where it is! over his heart. :]

-also in his S5 design i think he wouldn't wear his hood up as much cause. well he knows who he is now, he isn't going to hide that. and there's not really much unknown left about him anymore, so