#but I think it's a neat bit of analysis | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

If you dial 1-866-584-6757, you can leave an audio post for your followers.

#but I think it's a neat bit of analysis

effen-draws · 7 months

Text

OKAY it's going to take a while to get to the point with this one but-- de meta time. You see I realised just now that the skua which is referenced throughout the game is a y'know a skua. Like Great Skua skua, like Stercorarius Skua.

And ALRIGHT that might be my bilingual brain that's slow on the uptake (all my bird knowledge is in Danish so forgive me) because perception literally points it out:

BUT HEY. HEY. I DON'T KNOW HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT THE GREAT SKUA'S WHOLE DEAL IS BUT IT IS NOT NICE. SO LET ME TELL YOU A LITTLE ABOUT THEM BEFORE I GET INTO THE MEAT OF THIS META:

Skuas are a type of predatory bird that primarily lives off of stealing other marine bird's food. Basically they're very good at outmanouvering and bullying other birds until the unsuspecting gull or tern (for an example) drops the fish it had caught. But The Great Skua takes that a step further as the largest of its kind. Becuase it will straight up kill to rob another bird, while also consequently getting the other bird as a meal in the process. Like, killing gulls and puffins are just a regular part of its diet along with the theft.

AND IN CASE THIS ISN'T ALREADY OBVIOUS: THE GREAT SKUA IS AN INSANE BIRD TO HAVE AS A HERALDIC/SYMBOLIC BIRD.

But then I thought; well yes of course the first bird that the nations of Mundi would find as a proof of reality would be the Great Skua. Of course the colonisers would have their first proof of discovering "the New New World" be this bird. Of course the people who after seeing this skua, this living proof that there was more out there to exploit, would then go to other isolas to steal and kill to sustain themselves. Of course the people that established the Suzerain of Revachol, which was (to quote Joyce) "the greatest concentration of wealth mankind has ever seen", would be justified by a Great Skua.

Of course the future foundations of the capitalist world in Elysium would see a skua, the bird that lives of off kelptoparasitism, as their proof of a New New World and new new oppertunities.

And then it only makes sense that The Great Skua became the symbol of the discovery of Insulinde; Mundi's most "promising" steal.

#Was this the intention of the writers?#eh maybe #but I think it's a neat bit of analysis #also the fact that Harry breaks the Whirling's taxidermied skua #and says “fuck that bird” and all #that Harry (as a man that has suffered so much under capitalism) breaks the skua #something something analysis that I'm just going to leave in the tags #disco elysium #disco elysium meta #de #de meta #can't believe my bird knowledge came in handy

500 notes · View notes

chocolatepot · 1 year

Text

A while back, when there was concurrent ship discourse on Twitter and Tumblr, I started looking at the AO3 statistics for OFMD to get a sense of what the actual proportions are of different ships. The basic stats are pretty clear from the sorting sidebar:

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (12321)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands (2269)

Black Pete/Lucius Spriggs (1561)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands (1411)

Oluwande Boodhari/Jim Jimenez (1394)

Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands (976)

Israel Hands/Lucius Spriggs (839)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach & Israel Hands (677)

Israel Hands/"Calico" Jack Rackham (474)

Minor or Background Relationships (283) (label not appearing in pie chart)

However! There's a significant amount of overlap with some of these. Pete/Lucius and Jim/Olu are common side ships to Ed/Stede, for instance - 327 fics are tagged with only Ed/Stede and Pete/Lucius (23% of the Pete/Lucius tag), 195 fics are tagged with only Ed/Stede and Olu/Jim (14% of the Olu/Jim tag), and 749 fics are tagged with Ed/Stede, Pete/Lucius, and Olu/Jim (48% of the Pete/Lucius tag and 54% of the Olu/Jim tag).

It's also common for fics with Ed/Stede/Izzy to tag one or more of the two-person ships that make up the triad - 378 (27% of the Steddyhands total) include all four ships, and each of the side ships have 600-700 fics that overlap with Steddyhands in some way. As best as I can tell from careful inclusions and exclusions in the filters, there are 11,106 fics that are just Ed/Stede and not the other three, 1,113 that are just Ed/Izzy, 456 that are just Ed/Stede/Izzy, and 248 that are just Stede/Izzy.

So then I went in and tried to find the data for fics with each of the ships as the only pairing out of the group (italics indicate that the label wouldn't generate because the slice was so small, but this is the order they appear in in the chart):

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (9294)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands (898)

Black Pete/Lucius Spriggs (214)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands (426)

Oluwande Boodhari/Jim Jimenez (320)

Stede Bonnet/Israel Hands (236)

Israel Hands/Lucius Spriggs (411)

Blackbeard | Edward Teach & Israel Hands (160)

Israel Hands/"Calico" Jack Rackham (279)

Minor or Background Relationships (31)

This isn't perfect - there's no way to filter main vs. background ships, so there's no way for me to differentiate between an Ed/Stede fic with Lucius/Pete and Olu/Jim tagged for background mentions and an Olu/Jim fic with Lucius Pete and Ed/Stede tagged for background mentions; there are also even smaller ships that come into play once I cropped out the heavy hitters. However, I think this data gives a clearer picture of authorial priorities on AO3.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ao3 #data analysis #I don't really have a point to make #I just think it's neat #okay maybe there's a little bit of a point #I used to get concerned about Izzy ships being in the upper tiers of popularity #but then I realized what a huge leap there is between Ed/Stede and everything else #when you refine the data for the last graph the Izzy ships do gain ground compared to Pucius and Tealoranges #but Ed/Stede gets even more overwhelming #the gentlebeard juggernaut cannot be stopped

282 notes · View notes

starweed · 8 months

Text

my thoughts on itoshi rin and how his relationship with his brother has affected the way he has played football throughout the manga

to me it feels quite obvious that rin still cares about sae quite a bit. quite literally almost all of rin’s football career has been built around his brother, from the beginning of it to the u-20 match.

in the beginning, it started with rin thinking that sae looked cool and wanting to watch with his big brother play. then people realized he was actually pretty good at football himself, so he decided to start playing with sae because, “why wouldn’t playing football with your brother be fun?” this is when football was fun, it was mostly just hanging out with his big brother and eating ice cream together. we also don’t really know much about this time in rin’s life other than a few manga panels, so i don’t have much to say other than this is when got into football and he enjoyed it. i do feel like at first he mostly enjoyed it because he was playing with sae.

then, sae goes to spain, and this is when we first start to see changes in rin’s football. it’s in this stage that rin’s football both becomes about getting better and is when he first starts to enjoy it without sae. it becomes about getting good enough so that he can still walk with sae on the path to becoming the two best strikers in the world. it’s still enjoyable, but it’s mostly fun because he knows that sae is going to come back and they’re going to be great together. sae’s going to come back and they’ll both have gotten better and football will be even more enjoyable.

then sae actually comes back, and it’s apparent that all is not well. their confrontation happens and the football that rin had built up in the time that sae was away crumbled around him. football was no longer about playing with his brother, that had been made abundantly clear to him by sae himself. i imagine that it takes a bit of time for rin to decide what to do with himself after that. we just get a fade to black in the manga after rin and sae’s confrontation in the manga, but we do know that it was in winter. i don’t know how seasons in japan work or when football season is, but i imagine that having rin’s and isagi’s big life changing moments happen on the same day would be kind of unlikely (but who knows, this is a sports manga and the timeline is blurry).

the next change to his football is likely when he gets the letter to blue lock. this is when football becomes a tool to use in the goal of proving sae wrong. proving that he did deserve to be part of sae’s life, and that sae was in the wrong for saying what he did. football was now about making sae feel like rin did with the added weight of guilt. making sae feel guilty about how he treated rin when he returned from spain. blue lock is just a way for him to streamline that process. the facility gives him access to top trainers and training facilities, as well as the opportunities he needs to get back at sae. this football isn’t about enjoyment or happiness or anything that the football he played before was about. this football was about his anger and his need for revenge, at the same time it was also about his want for his older brother back. his want for his brother to love him like he used to, to wrap him up in his arms and take him out for ice cream and sit by the ocean with him. this football was football filled with grief over the fact that his relationship with his brother will never be the same because he is not good enough.

then the u-20 match happens, and this marks yet another change to rin’s football. this is when sae manages to fully cement himself as a world class jerk in both my mind and in rin’s. after this match rin is pissed off, like he is mad mad. he takes some of that anger out on isagi because he’s a) the one that sae praised, and b) the one who walked up to rin who was clearly spitting mad and tried to have a conversation. but after the u-20 match, this is when rin starts to play football for himself. this is when rin lets go of playing for sae altogether, and i am so excited to see what that looks like. this is rin accepting that if sae’s going to be a jerk to him for the rest of his life then he’s not going to let him run it anymore. this is rin not letting go of all the bullshit that he went through with sae, but accepting that it happened and kind of moving on.

of course, this is all from rin’s perspective. i’d like to see what sae thinks of what went down between the two of them, it’s likely much different than how rin views it.

at the time that i’m writing this post (ch 231 of the manga is latest chapter) we haven’t seen any of our paris x gen pals since they chose their team, so that means we haven’t seen rin in a while. i feel like rin’s new play style will be extremely interesting to see (especially from isagi’s pov, it’s like that boy can’t not wax poetry about rin), especially since pxg’s mentor is julian loki. since he’s in the same age range as all of blue lock it’ll be interesting to see how he handles the team.

and the u-20 match really good writing, in my opinion. it really expands on rin and sae’s relationship in way that hadn’t happened before and hasn’t happened since, at the time of this post, and that context is why i can even make this post.

hope that you enjoyed my ramblings about rin, i just think he’s neat

#itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi brothers #blue lock #bllk #blue lock fandom #character analysis #analysis post #rin itoshi analysis #he’s neat #i might do an analysis of him and isagi later #it depends on how i’m feeling #their relationship is very interesting to me #also that last bit about acceptance is hopeful theorizing on my part #that’s both what i think and what i hope will happen #also it wraps up my comparison between the itoshi brothers’ relationship and the five stages of grief with a nice little bow #sae returns from spain = denial #the match following the return = bargaining #time at blue lock pre u-20 = anger and depression #blue lock post u-20 = acceptance #lmk what you think #also you should all go read blue lock #the manga #i haven’t watched the anime #therefore i cannot recommend it to you

38 notes · View notes

anachronistic-falsehood · 7 months

Note

SHIP BINGO FOR THE GUYS U WANNA TALK ABOUT. CELLTW I THINK . gimme the cannibalism rundown king

MAC. looking u dead in the eyes. getting into celltw has almost convinced me to start watching hannibal i guess i just really like gay cannibalism and i need more of it. ANYWAY listen listen listennnn. ok. qcellbit and qpac are my little fucking guys alright. my favourite boys. i'm gonna give you their whole fucking backstory here ok. ok. infodump time. i apologize in advance

so cellbit was a child soldier who didn't even have a NAME. resorted to cannibalism to survive. badboyhalo was there. both stuck in a war. killed thousands of people. AWFUL TIMES!!! goes from child soldier to domestic terrorist somehow. he gets arrested and thrown in FUCKING ALCATRAZ. HE'S STILL A CANNIBAL. somehow manages to sneak a cell phone in and uses it to threaten prisoners and people start calling him cell because he literally didn't have a name before. right. ENTER PAC E MIKE. they're robbers for a living. the sillies <3 they robbed a top security museum and got caught and thrown in alcatraz. cell has gone bonkers and fucking yonkers. weird habit of licking his lips. i'm in love with him. protects pac e mike from other prisoners. they are wary of him (understandable). pac e mike make a friend named jv who tries to help them escape. cell kills him right in front of them and tries to escape himself. gets thrown in solitary. pac e mike go to the solitary cells just to mock him. lots of lowkey gay tension in that scene???? eventually pac e mike escape with the help of another friend but cell tags along because he threatens them with a gun he got from a security guard he killed. THIS MAN IS UNHINGED!!!

they end up on a deserted island. the boat they used to sail there needs repairs and four people can't fit on it at all anymore. cell decides one of them needs to die and tells the others they can decide which one has to be killed. cell is the only one who manages to find food on the island, which happens to be apples. he hoards it from the others and I SHIT YOU NOT THERE IS SOME WEIRD FUCKING RELIGIOUS IMAGERY GOING ON HERE. OK. pac seeks out cell, and CELL, WHO IS SITTING IN A TREE, OFFERS PAC AN APPLE IF HE KILLS ONE OF THE OTHERS. PAC SAYS HE'LL THINK ABOUT IT AND CELL GIVES HIM AN APPLE. I'M GOING TO EAT DRYWALL. I DON'T KNOW IF THEY DID THAT ON PURPOSE BUT THEY SURE FUCKIN DID IT ALRIGHT. at some point cell eats pac's leg but we have no idea when that canonically happens bc it was only canonized in qsmp and wasn't shown in Fuga Impossível where he and mike met cell, but IT'S STILL FUCKING CANON AND I LIKE TO THINK IT HAPPENED SOMEWHERE ON THAT FUCKING ISLAND. ALRIGHT. IT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IN PRISON BUT IT HAPPENING ON THE ISLAND JUST MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE 2 ME.

they trick cell and trap him, telling him to use the last bullet in his gun for himself. the three of them leave the island and hear a single gunshot. they think he's dead. SIKE!!! somehow years and years later, pac, mike, and cell, plus two others are all on the same ship together and end up on a new island. cell now goes by cellbit??? and really likes mysteries and is a pretty chill person in comparison to how he used to be??? he went through copious amounts of therapy and is actually somewhat well adjusted. he's a pretty cool guy.

he's changed. mike has changed. pac has changed. they're all so different. he and cellbit get stuck in a cave and they kiss. it's weird. they don't do it again after that. cellbit starts talking to another guy, roier. they get married. pac is disappointed but he doesn't talk about it too much. why is he disappointed? he doesn't really know. pac has changed but every time he looks at cellbit he's back in that prison. one day, everyone's furniture goes missing, including cellbit's. pac's first instinct is to grab his son by the shoulders and tell him to pack his things because when cellbit sees that someone has robbed him he will go on a rampage the likes of which no one has ever seen. that doesn't happen. cellbit snaps and demands public execution of the culprit so they can drink his blood. he's holding a knife. he's easily placated and puts the knife away. cell is clearly somewhere in there. this is the first glimpse pac has gotten of him in the five months they've been here. pac licks his lips the same way cell used to. it's a habit.

their son goes missing. the president is put on drugs by the federation. pac has lost everything. he takes the fed's medication so he can try finding a cure. he sits in cellbit's castle panicking for a solid five minutes, debating with himself over whether he should leave some of the medication for cellbit to find in hopes he can help them. he tries to find a cure on his own while still hopped up on pills. there's blood on the floor. he leaves notes for his loved ones. he knows cellbit well enough to know he will come looking and find this. the thought is as terrifying as it is relieving. cellbit develops a cure with pac's notes. cellbit yells at the president, the fellow father of their son. pac only hears cell. he takes the antidote he helped develop. cellbit guides him home and tells him he's not alone anymore and never will be again. they hug. it's terrifying. it's comforting. it's weird.

cellbit clearly left that prison behind. pac never has. he probably never will.

#whiskey yelling into the void #friend tag :3 #celltw #girl i SWEAR i did not mean to go on this tangent alright. it just Happened #little bit of character analysis at the end there i couldn't resist #i think they're neat <3 #i think they neat to have weird gay cannibal sex and it might fix them #actually no it wouldn't. it would make them worse. that being said i think they should give it a shot anyway #whiskeys word soup

25 notes · View notes

solipsistful · 2 years

Text

you can tell w.bg has hit Actual Special Interest territory because i have mornings like "*eyes snap open* what if Connectivity applies to events and not just people"

- ace

#woe.begone #push back the hands of time #actually though?? i think this might be a cogent analysis/explanation for some things???#though i can't tell if it's a bit like 'yeah duh obviously that's clearly how it's been working' or 'oh neat'

8 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 2 months

Text

daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)

she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)

part one

word count: 7.9k

content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours.

But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.

Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor.

Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office.

On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.

It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.

It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.

And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.

The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name.

“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."

She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery.

She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.

“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.

“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”

She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in.

“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”

“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”

His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.

“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”

They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence.

But she can’t help herself.

“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”

Harry’s nostrils flare.

“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”

He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with.

But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?

“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”

“I’m not—”

“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”

He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way.

“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out.

A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to.

“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips.

But instead, he stops.

A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes.

“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”

I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains.

“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”

He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.

“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”

. . .

Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated.

In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing.

She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead.

When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile.

A smile.

“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body.

“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag.

That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.

As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed.

And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.

“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”

Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals.

“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.

When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”

As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.

“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”

Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox.

“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”

Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.

. . .

“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft.

Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down.

“We are,” he says softly.

“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed.

“What do you mean?”

Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater.

“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”

Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.

“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”

She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it.

And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.

“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”

She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”

“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.

The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?”

His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time.

“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”

She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers.

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx.

Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.

And there’s still three months left of the semester.

Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.

But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.

It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:

can’t stop thinking about your lips

oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??

It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.

Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.

Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him.

“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”

She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.”

“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”

They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be?

Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles.

“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male.

He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”

“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.”

He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather.

It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket.

“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”

“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”

“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”

Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods.

“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”

“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.”

With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared?

Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?”

“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”

His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation.

“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“You live alone?”

She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.

“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”

“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”

Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”

Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime.

“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”

“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”

His throat bobs. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”

He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”

He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment.

“Well now I have to know.”

“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”

“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”

Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”

“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”

“Strawberry, actually.”

He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”

Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”

“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”

She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”

“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road.

“I’m right over there.”

Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him.

“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly.

“Of course.”

They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car.

“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”

He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?

But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.

“Can I come inside, then?”

. . .

Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be.

She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.

“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming.

“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”

Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”

“Tea is good, sweetheart.”

The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.

“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.

He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”

“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”

“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”

She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.

“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.”

Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile.

“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”

He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”

She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

He sends her a knowing look and she grins.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”

He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”

“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”

“I know, but—”

“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”

He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”

“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust.

This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games.

“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”

He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze.

“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”

“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up.

But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy.

When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.

And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.

“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane.

“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her.

He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest.

“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.”

He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips.

“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.

“Doubt it,” he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising.

“Harry— oh my god—”

“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”

If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above.

“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly.

“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”

That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression.

“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips.

“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”

Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?”

“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck.

She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?”

“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.”

“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”

“That’s perfectly okay.”

Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length.

“You look big.” She admits.

He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip.

“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?”

This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.”

“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”

“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.”

“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.”

She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it.

“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.”

“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”

She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze.

“Do you really think it’ll fit?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“

“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”

Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts.

Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter.

“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“

“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”

“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down.

With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her.

“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”

She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic.

She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach.

He thinks he may pass out.

Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock.

“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her.

“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully.

He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them.

“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.”

That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent.

When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her.

“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.

Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”

“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”

“Please.”

His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair.

They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat.

And then: “So you envisioned this?”

She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”

Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.

1K notes · View notes

gogogodzilla · 1 year

Note

Um I was wondering if you could write smut about connor and about if he can vibrate if yk what i mean cause i feel like im not the only person that thinks that androids can vibrate. please and thank you

Tease || Connor (RK800)

Summary: Connor can't wait until you get home.

Note Pt. 2: This is a spiritual epilogue of my completed Connor fanfic, Criminal Analysis!

Warnings: smut (obviously lol), afab reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering (connor has vibrating fingers), semi-public sex

{Masterlist}

You knew what you were doing— you were wearing those pants Connor liked. Really liked.

Of course, you had another reason to be wearing them other than riling him up. You knew that you’d be called into court eventually, that’s part of being a forensic psychologist, after all.

It all started that morning. You got to sleep in a little due to court and you relished the few extra moments of unconsciousness.

However, those moments lost their sweetness when you felt the cold, empty space beside you in bed. You blindly swatted the other side of the bed, hoping that if you reached just a little bit further you’d find your lover. He’d bring your groggy form into his embrace, and lull you back into a dreamless sleep.

Your grasps came up empty and you rolled onto your back with a huff. The bedroom door opened with a click, and soft footsteps echoed throughout the room. You peeked open an eye and struggled to fight the grin that appeared at the sight of your love.

Connor’s hair was neat as always, but he had exchanged his Cyberlife jacket with a normal suit jacket. It was a refreshing change.

Connor neared your side of the bed, and your grin grew. He bent down and pressed a soft, slow kiss to your temple and ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing out some of the tangles.

He slowly peppered kisses down your face, moving from your forehead, down to the space between your eyebrows, to the tip of your nose, and, finally, your lips.

You didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, the ache for him already growing. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged him towards you.

Connor knew better than to fall into your trap, especially when he was running late. He placed a hand beside your head to stop himself from coming any closer. That didn’t stop you from trying, though.

“I have to go,” he whispered as he gently pulled away.

You sighed dreamily as you sat up, “You should’ve woken me up sooner.”

“If we started,” Connor purred as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “we wouldn’t be able to stop.”

You hummed in response as you slowly trailed your fingers up his thigh. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, but you just grinned.

You settled for resting your hands on his belt buckle, “You can afford to be a few minutes late.”

Your argument was flawed, you knew that. Connor would rather cut off his own foot than be late. But, you also knew that you could be very persuasive.

Connor pried your hand from his belt buckle and gave you a placating smile, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

You let out a huff as you threw yourself back on the bed with a groan. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your head on the headboard, but you didn’t really care at the moment.

Connor bent over and gave you a final kiss, whispering an ‘I love you’ against your lips. It was almost like you were Snow White, and he was your prince charming. Although, the only thing he’d awoken was a deep need throbbing between your legs. And then he was out the door.

You set your plan into motion almost immediately. You felt a bit giddy at the thought of Connor getting all hot and bothered just by the sight of you. Especially, if he wouldn’t get to touch you until later that night.

Your heart raced as you pushed open the glass door to the precinct. Your shoes clicked across the tile floor as you made your way through the turnstile and to your desk.

You ignored Connor’s eyes searing a hole in your back as you bent down slightly and slowly put the files you came for in your bag.

A low whistle sounded behind you, “Damn, sweetheart, what’re you all dressed up for?” Gavin called as he made his way to his desk, steaming mug clutched in his hand.

You rolled your eyes and fought off a grin. Gavin’s shameless flirting was playing right into your plan.

“If you must know,” you straightened and placed your hands on your hips, “some of us actually have to do our jobs.”

Gavin sat down and leaned back in his chair, “Very funny.”

You went back to your task, pretending to look in one of the drawers for something, making sure to give Connor a very good view.

“I think your plastic boy toy is malfunctioning,” Gavin snickered, and you stopped your fake search and looked up at Gavin. “He just practically ran to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go check on him,” you muttered as you closed the drawer to your desk.

Gavin put his feet up on his desk and sent you one of his blinks that’s meant to be a wink, “Yeah, you go ahead and check on him.”

You flushed as you turned away, your hurried steps echoing as you made your way to the bathroom. Gavin wasn’t stupid. Hell, you’d done the same thing when he’d pissed you off when you were dating.

Old habits died hard.

The door to the men’s bathroom silently shut behind you, and luckily only one stall was occupied. You locked the bathroom door with a click and sauntered over to the stall which contained the object of your desires. Well, more like the person of your desires.

“Connor,” you called out as you came to a stop in front of the stall door. A slight grin graced your features as you waited for him to answer.

The door opened in a flash, and you were pulled inside. Quicker than you could process, Connor had you pressed up against the door and had both of your hands caged in his and held above your head.

“You just couldn’t wait,” Connor taunted as he tilted his head to the side, letting his breath fan across your cheek. He slid his knee between your legs, allowing himself to get even closer.

You raised your head to look at him. “I dunno, seems like you’re the one who couldn’t wait.” He let out a sigh as he released your hands and raked them down your body. You had to be quick, Connor knew that. Although, that didn’t stop him from teasing you.

He gripped your thighs as he looked down at you and pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips. It was mostly tongue, but you were quick to wrap your arms around him and pull him impossibly closer to you.

Connor made quick work of undoing the buttons on your dress shirt as he pressed open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat and gripped your hips tightly. He was searching for that spot that made you make those noises he liked. You ground your core against his thigh, attempting to get some sort of relief.

Once he successfully got your shirt all the way unbuttoned, he was quick to attack the newly exposed skin, licking and sucking to his heart’s desire. You ran your fingers through his hair and tugged at the pieces at the nape of his neck eliciting a groan from him.

Connor gripped your waist as he moved his sloppy kisses down your abdomen and slowly got to his knees. You gazed down at him through your heavy lids. He moved to unbutton your pants, eager to finally touch you. His movements were practiced and precise as he pulled your pants down to your ankles. He let out a shaky breath when he realized you weren’t wearing any underwear.

You’d almost forgotten about that part of your plan.

He slotted himself neatly between your legs. He always fit so well there.

“So needy for me,” he breathed against your core as he caressed your inner thighs. You clenched them together but his grip held you in place. He pressed a kiss on the inside of your knee before slowly moving upward, avoiding where you needed him most.

You let out a groan, and Connor looked up at you.

“Use your words, Doctor,” he gently reminded before latching his lips onto your core. Your breath is promptly knocked out of you, and any retort you had died in your throat.

His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to him. His tongue expertly circled your clit as he found a rhythm that had your eyes rolling back. You gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a moan that sent heavenly vibrations up your body.

You groaned at the sight of him— your slick had begun to coat his face and he showed no sign of slowing.

Connor slowly and sinfully pressed one finger inside you, which was quickly joined by another. You thrusted your hips forward, desperate to have even more of him. He pumped his fingers achingly slow, but a stream of vibrations caused you to jolt.

That was new.

A sly grin had curved into Connor’s face and he looked up at you, taking in the confusion mixed with arousal that graced your features. He pulled away from you for a moment, “I was saving that for later.”

“Fuck, Connor,” you whimpered.

“Be quiet,” Connor grunted into your core as he jutted his fingers deeper into you. You pressed a hand over your mouth to silence the breathy moans that were escaping you.

You trusted yourself for only a moment to whimper out, “Need you.”

Connor was more than happy to oblige you as he rose to his feet and pushed his fingers past your lips, making you taste yourself. You busied yourself with undoing his belt buckle, fingers clumsy as you revealed what you ached for.

Connor let out a shaky breath as you stroked him, and he met your strokes halfway. He gripped your thighs and in one swift motion lifted you up. He was practically bending you in half, but you didn’t mind.

He angled his cock up to your entrance, and agonizingly, slowly pushed inside you. The way he stretched you was delicious, and you let out a high-pitched mewl at the feeling.

He covered your mouth with one of his hands as he rutted inside of you and bottomed out. After a few moments, you started moving your hips, begging him to move. Mercifully, he obliged you and snapped his hips against yours. You let out a breathy moan against his hand, and he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck.

“You’re perfect,” he slurred into your shoulder, “couldn’t wait until tonight to have you.” He moved his hand from your mouth to resting on your neck, and he looked you in the eyes as he pounded into you. Connor brought his hand down to where you were joined and the vibrations continued once again.

You grip onto his bicep, that familiar coil beginning to tighten, and you panted heavily. “I’m close,” you whined.

“Come for me.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. You groaned and you felt your eyes roll back as you reached your high. You came hard as you involuntarily pushed your hips into Connor’s.

He came with your name gracing his lips along with a few other words. You attempted to catch your breath as Connor stilled within you.

“You’re going to be late,” he said matter-of-factly as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You huffed out a laugh, and Connor gently set you back down. You grabbed onto his shoulders while you waited for your legs to stop feeling like jelly.

Connor helped clean you up and make you look presentable. His hands were a lot steadier than yours at the moment.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and grinned, “I should tease you more often."

#detroit become human #dbh connor #connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 #connor x reader smut #rk800 x reader smut #dbhsmut #dbh x reader #no y/n #rk800 x you #reader insert #zilla answers

2K notes · View notes

lilislegacy · 2 months

Text

an analysis: piper calling percy unimpressive

(warning: i wrote this at 1 am)

so basically

remember how we all despised piper mclean when she had the audacity to call our beloved percy “unimpressive” and we all lost our shit on the inside a little bit?

i truly don’t think she meant it in the way we think she did. i think we’re all just defensive of our boy.

piper clearly states that she is comparing percy to jason. first of all, jason is her boyfriend, so of course she’s biased. second of all, hera was manipulating piper to be obsessed with jason. so other guys and girls are automatically unimpressive to her.

and here’s the big thing: piper does not call him unattractive. she does not call him ugly. she simply says he’s not her type. piper is clearly attracted to the “good boy” look. jason is literally your all-american boy. he’s tall with light skin, a sturdy build, neat blonde hair, and blue eyes. part of why annabeth doesn’t trust him is because she is unsettled by his “perfect” appearance. jason is also obedient and well-mannered. he’s your standard good boy.

and the fact of the matter is: percy looks like a “bad boy”. and often, he acts like one too. him and jason are contrasts of each other. a symbolic representation of this: their features. percy has a darker complexion, messy black hair, unique green eyes, and a “sarcastic troublemaker smile.” he’s muscular, but in a leaner and more trim way. he’s tall, but he’s not a towering muscleman by any means. not that jason is either, but don’t forget, percy is a whole one. inch. (GASP) shorter than jason (which to me isn’t even noticeable, so her pointing it out as a flaw just proves that she’s so incredibly biased towards jason.) their other big contrasting feature: their personalities. jason is respectful and well-mannered. very obedient and under control. percy, however, makes jokes during inappropriate moments, talks back to people of power and authority, gets angry quickly, and loses control easily. i mean, literally right after she says this, percy starts insulting the roman god Bacchus and rapidly escalates a situation because of his natural instinct to be disobedient. piper is horrified by him doing this, especially because jason would never. does it make US all love percy very much? yes. but piper isn’t us.

THAT SAID, even she can’t actually call him unattractive. she even went as far to state that she can see why annabeth likes him, which means even her magically-obsessed-with-jason brain can still recognize his attractiveness and see why girls find him appealing. she calls him “cute in a scruffy way,” meaning she thinks that he’s got a disheveled attractiveness to him. she also once said that his pleading eyes are like a cute baby seal’s - even she can’t deny that his eyes are wonderful. so even though piper calls him unimpressive, i think rick put in a lot of clues here showing us that she acknowledges him as a conventionally attractive person, even if she’s not personally attracted to him.

let’s sum it up, shall we?

what does it say about percy? absolutely nothing. piper calling percy unimpressive is an inaccurate and unreliable source when it comes to analyzing percy’s physical appearance, especially if you don’t consider the context. this was rick’s way of showing piper’s clear preference towards jason, just like annabeth has a clear preference towards percy. and even though she said this, rick also made her give us several hints that percy is handsome, just not in a way she’s inclined towards. rick wanted love triangles to be completely out of the question with these 4. he wanted to make it very clear that annabeth had no interest in jason, and that piper had no interest in percy. so since piper is so drawn towards jason, percy had to be very different from him in her eyes.

jason is your a superman, percy is your batman

jason is your captain america, percy is your iron man. some even say spider man.

so put yourself in piper’s shoes: after hearing percy jackson’s name non-stop for 6 months, hearing him compared to jason, hearing of all his accomplishments and how heroic he is - i mean, the guy was literally honored on olympus and offered godhood - she was expecting a stereotypical good-boy hero. a hercules. a superman. your standard muscular blinding-white-teeth-smile hunk. the conventional, well-mannered good boy. and instead she got a wild and untamed, trouble-making bad boy. percy has an edge to him. he’s intimidating and unpredictable. he’s sarcastic and witty. he just looks like he’s up to no good. she wasn’t expecting any of that. that’s not what we’re taught a hero is supposed to be like or look like.

jason is appealing in a “he’d be a respectable and sturdy husband” way.

percy is appealing in a “he’s gonna fuck up my life but i so badly want him to” kind of way. (even though once you get to know him, you see he’s literally the world’s best boyfriend. piper even gets jealous of how loving he is towards annabeth.)

she had this exact idea of what he would be, and he wasn’t that. hence her calling him “unimpressive.” but it says nothing about his attractiveness.

i rest my case, your honor.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

disclaimer: i am not saying percy is actually a bad boy or a bad guy. he is a sweetheart. he has the biggest heart ever. he’s a cute little cinnamon roll. i am simply talking of first impressions from outsiders, and how he appears if you don’t know him.

#don’t worry #percy is hot #analysis #this is so disorganized lol #late night thoughts #you guys asked for it #percy jackson #jason grace #mark of athena #heroes of olympus #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #annabeth chase

327 notes · View notes

cupidssorbett · 2 months

Text

COD CHARACTER DICK ANALYSIS.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ COD Characters x Reader.

Characters Included: John Price, Ghost “Simon” Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, and John “Soap” Mactavish.

Summary: Title says it all!

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Note: This is part 1 of not sure how many but I saw these kinds of things for other characters so I’m doing it for these guys! just know more prompts will be coming as well as other things! :)

Content/Includes: In the title! PS remember that this is just what I think and everyone has different opinions!

NOT PROOFED, MAJOR MAJOR INSPO TO @arachine because their dick series is my biggest inspo for this cod one so PLEASE PLEASE go check out their blog!!

PS IM FINALLY BACK AFTER BEING BUSY FOR SO LONG AND I DO PLAN ON BETTING TO ASKS AND OTHER PROMPTS!!

Enjoy! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ✧

Price:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 8 inches flaccid and 9 erect, NOW HERE ME OUT, he’s 6’0 from what I learned on Google and I mean, do you see and HEAR this man? He’s a captain, he’s got those mutton chops, he’s absolutely got something that slaps his thigh when he walks.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: He’s not skinny, and he’s not split you open girthy, it’s that good median some where between that gives you that good stretch but isn’t painful.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: Price isn’t PALE pale so down south he’s got a little tan to it, his tip is just a bit darker compared to his dick, like if I have to give a hexcode AND I WILL, it’s #D29A7C.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: Do you see those mutton chops?? He is neat and tidy, his carpet matches the drapes in a sense of being not messy or anything just neat and all put together.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: VEINS, UGH, you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn’t got a few veins along the bottom and on the side. A few thick ones that rub just right when riding him, he’s also got not majorly noticeable curve but a slight curve to it.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He’s a giver, I saw someone say this I wholeheartedly agree, he’s a giver, he likes you riding him and taking it as you please his hands on your hips as you set your pace.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

“There ya go, slow— Oohh— Steady there love.” He breathed out with a slight chuckle, hands finding purchase right on your hips occasionally rubbing down your thighs. “Fuck— Doesn’t matter how many times I ride you I still can’t get over the stretch.” you laughed out as you slowly sank down with his help as he breathed all kinds of praises with that smile on his face.

Eventually you were buried to the hilt deep within him, your velvet heat clutching him, “God knew you could do it— Never fail to impress darling.” Price chuckled before you redirected his hand from your hips to your stomach the slight bulge in your lower catching him off guard, the groan that emitted from his throat was down right dirty. “God damn you know just how to rile me up, I suggest you hold on huh?” He chuckled deeply.

Ghost:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 7 flaccid, 8.5 hard, he is big but he’s not BIG, you feel me? He’s got that good even, and you best believe he knows how to use it. I mean hello?? Look at him? Anyways I stand by it, 7 flaccid, 8.5 hard.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: He’s a buff lad because we’re taking mw2/3 ghost with those man tits and big ass arms, he’s definitely thick, split you open thick in a sense.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: With his mask and such I would like to say he’s pale so his dick might be slightly pale as well his tip color though would be slightly darker like, #FAC3B3 & #D69786.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: See I like to believe his hair is shorttt beneath his mask so he would also keep it kinda clipped and short not exactly long or like out there, he’d had it pretty maintained like a little scruff maybe.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: Two words, God yes. Curved up just slightly with veins on the underside and one on the front side.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He seems like the rough types and if he’s busy but needs you so and he’ll face fuck you while your head under his desk.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

His grip was tight on your hair as you allowed him to move your head back and fourth as you braced your hands on his thighs. The obscenely wet sounds of your spit & precum shined lips gliding and wrapped around his cock.

“Look at you— *fuck* — such a mess around my cock huh? Little fuckin’ cocksleeve practically.” Ghost chuckled deeply in his chest as he lowered your mouth fully down onto his length causing a little gag from you as you gripped his thighs and he relished in this groaning at the sight and sound of you gagging around him as more drool spilled from your lips.

Gaz:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 6 flaccid but 7.5 erect, he’s got that good even ground not split you open or good lord how is it gonna fit big but enough that he makes you feel that full feeling you can’t get enough of.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: I don’t have a specific like width length in terms of measurements but I’d like to say he’s a good neutral, gives you that good feeling when fucking you.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: #C98767 & #AB6F4F , it’s got a little fade to the mushroom tip, the tip just being a bit darker towards the end.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: He’s groomed, his hair is short like short so I’d think he’d keep it pretty much tamed with a little curl to it.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: OOOO, yeah he got veins, more like one up from the bottoms and one on the top that goes into a fork. He’s just a litttleee curved.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: I feel like he likes to take you from the back, he’s a bit of an ass man, maybe some tummy and thighs honestly.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

“God..” Gaz huffed out as his grip on your hips tightened, his gaze trailing down to your ass and the way it bounced everywhere time he thrusted in and out of your velvet heat. He couldn’t help but land a smack to it earning a, ‘Oh!’ From you and a groan from him. “You like that huh? Go on and tell me.” Gaz managed out punctuating the words with thrusts.

Soap:

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Length: 7 flaccid, maybe 7.5 ish not too big not too small, just the right ish amount for most. Because let’s be honest Soap isn’t big or small, right smack dab in the middle.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Width: I wanna say, he’s a bit girthy though, not twig thin but maybe the same width of a banana which is usually 1.5 to 2 inches, so take that how you will.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Color: I feel he’s pale around the base and a little darker to the tip, I don’t have exact set colors for soap because I can’t pin point exactly what colors but think pale to tanner.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Grooming/Styling: I feel like, just by looking at his Mohawk and facial hair look it’s like messy but it’s not overly dramatic or grown out but it isn’t quite buzzed either so like a tamed bush in a sense.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Are they curved? Any veins?: CURVED AND VEINS, he’s got a vein on the under side curved to the tip and over to the top side slightly, as for curved it curves to the left just slightly and up a teeny bit.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Favorite way to use it: He’s a thigh & tit guy in my opinion, so, I feel he looovess thigh fucking.

⋆₊˚⊹♡ Prompt:

You HAD been finishing up cleaning the dishes in your favorite PJ’s right before bed until your boyfriend came meandering out…then you found yourself on the bed, on your back, panting softly as you looked at where his cock tip poked out from between your thighs that just couldn’t keep his hands off.

“So..Fucking…Good.” Soap punctuated his words with deep thrusts, pearls of precums catching on your thighs as he thrusted.

#cupidssorbettlibrary #cod x reader #cod mw2 #gaz cod #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz smut

169 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

hi88official

Hi88

cassie48

Cassandra

timetospy

Universal Exports

terrie

The story so far...

theinheriteddutchess

The Inherited Dutchess