#the way i absolutely have a problem but it also brings me an immense amount of joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarletwritesshit · 2 years

Text

Kaveh x Reader ✦ Oh my God! Roommates! ✦ III: Ajilenakh

It was probably due to your lack of rest beforehand, but you fell asleep with ease and slept through the night quite well. When you awoke, Kaveh was still unsurprisingly out cold, so you took care to not disturb him as you crawled out of bed. You went through the usual routine of dressing yourself and preparing for the day, with a breakfast once again being offered by Alhaitham. It initially felt like a one-time welcoming ritual to ease you into the residence, but perhaps it only felt that way because you were so used to skipping breakfast to account for the extra workload.

Despite the immense amount of work ahead of you, Alhaitham insisted that you sit down at the table and finish your meal. He glanced at you, puzzled in exchange for your somewhat curious expression.

"I thought we had a lot to cover today," you pointed out.

"We do indeed have a great amount of material still left in your introduction. However, none of it will be retained should you study on an empty stomach."

It felt like there was some kind of catch.

"So, when is it my turn to make the food?" you asked, untrusting of his generosity.

"It's your job to focus as a student. As long as you hold your end of the deal and show great strides in your studies, then I shall bare the responsibility of chores," Alhaitham said, with a gentle shake of his head.

It was nice to know that you weren't going to be burdened with extra responsibilities that would distract you from what was most important. Though, what about Kaveh? He doesn't seem to be that useful to Alhaitham currently, so why isn't he doing anything?

"But...what about Kaveh? He doesn't seem to help around the place at all."

"Because he's absolutely useless," Alhaitham said, quick to snap back.

"Then, simply give him a use?"

"Believe me, I've tried. He always makes up some excuse about his imaginary architectural job to get out of it. When I am actually able to convince him to do something, he does it completely wrong, so I've given up on him."

Imaginary job? He seems like he’s been hard at work, at least these past two nights.

"But what about all of those papers accumulated on his desk?"

"Most likely, they are mere scribbles that he has come up with these past few nights to make himself appear better so that he doesn't get kicked out in favor of you. Why are you so quick to come to that freeloader's defense, anyways?"

Alhaitham made a good point. Why were you so quick to defend a man that you've only just met?

"I'm not sure. Curiosity, or an outsider's lack of bias I guess."

Alhaitham gave you a brief judging look, but didn't inquire further. It seemed like something had crossed his mind that he was about to ask you, but decided against it.

Seems like the goal here was to hold your ground on your studies and stay out of trouble with Kaveh. The first felt much easier to do compared to the latter, considering Kaveh’s apparent bratty nature.

When the short exchange of words between you and Alhaitham ceased, Kaveh decided to finally make his long overdue appearance. Upon his arrival at the table, Alhaitham's mood soured, and he took his meal to the same spot he did the day prior.. He didn't say another word to you or one to Kaveh as he silently left to eat in peace, alone.

"What's his problem?" Kaveh aked, confused.

"I think you are," you said.

He looked dejected and glanced down due to the sharpness of your response.

"Well, yeah. Tell me something I don't know."

He perked his head up and looked at you with a smile, brushing off your previous comment.

"Never mind him," he said, "How about I join you for the remainder of your meal?"

You weren't going to object, as he seemed less likely to bring up the other in such a condescending way. He was also a resident of the household long before you, so there was ultimately no room for objection on your part.

You weren’t sure how to carry out a conversation with him, so the morning was once again spent in relative silence. He seemed so insistent on spending time with you, yet he didn’t seem to be much of a conversationist in the mornings. Kaveh simply looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite find the words to do so. You too, wanted to have a leisurely discussion over breakfast, but there wasn’t exactly a common ground to strike a conversation with him, at least to your knowledge. Was he perhaps afraid of going on a rampage about Alhaitham again, and scaring you off? It wouldn’t be so bad if you kept the topic on something he’s interested in, such as architecture, but that always had the potential to quickly spiral into “Alhaitham doesn’t understand because he’s too stuck up” or something.

As much as you wanted to have a little chat with him, you decided that it was best to remain silent. After finishing your breakfast, you were once again stopped by him before you had the chance to take care of your dishes. Rather than put up a protest, you let Alhaitham’s “useless roommate” take care of the mess so that you could get to your studies.

Alhaitham wasted no time introducing you to your lesson for the day. He gave you absolutely no opportunity to distract him with any form of useless, irrelevant questions.

Straight to the point.

It was nice knowing that he wasn’t the type to mess around with unnecessary filler. At the same time, it was a little frightening thinking of the potential sheer difficulty of the material you have yet to cover.

The introduction to your long-term studies was some large, well-read book documenting the oldest days of Sumeru known to man. Alhaitham claimed that this was to set a solid foundation for what lies ahead, but to you, it felt like a bunch of outdated nonsense. None of the policies you noted even remotely applied to modern day Sumeru or its schooling, but you continued without protest in order to simply please Alhaitham.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could occasionally catch a glimpse of Kaveh staring in your general direction. You couldn’t exactly break your focus and turn away from your paper to get a better look at him, but he seemed to be observing you and Alhaitham as you were being lectured about seemingly useless dusty old Sumeru texts. There were times you wanted to take a better peek at him in an attempt to take a guess at what he was conspiring, but any distraction from Alhaitham’s lecture at hand would ultimately scar your reputation. You did sort of want an explanation from him, though.

Did he want to finally make himself useful by joining in on your private study session? Or perhaps there was a lingering sense of jealousy that kept him fixated on you? Either way, there wasn’t a chance for you to ask. Alhaitham didn’t seem to notice, nor did he care, so you ultimately decided to let it go for now.

Kaveh made absolutely no mention of anything unusual before the two of you went to bed for the night, either. Perhaps it was simply a little jealously over Alhaitham treating you better than he treated him, but if that were the case, wouldn’t he be acting rather hostile towards you? There wasn’t an ounce of resentment against you present in that man. In fact, he didn’t spend nearly as much time working on his projects as he did the night before, allowing him head to bed a lot earlier.

Didn’t he want to prove to Alhaitham that he wasn’t useless? You’re not complaining about him getting proper rest; it just seemed unusual considering the excuses he gave prior.

Maybe the dust from those old books were starting to get to you.

It was better to forget about Kaveh’s odd ways and simply sleep through the night.

The next day was the same repetitive cycle; you joining Alhaitham for breakfast, Kaveh coming to crash his peaceful morning, and then sitting through hours of outdated Sumeru history.

Your notebook was starting to become awfully thick for how early in your studies you were. At some point, you were going to have to sort through these notes for yourself and shift out what you believed was of higher priority, or at least ask Alhaitham for advice organizing your thoughts. Finding the time to focus on that was going to be difficult, however. Every day, it felt like Kaveh’s supposed jealousy was growing stronger and stronger. The strange thing was, you could feel him intensely focused on you during the day, but while you two were chatting before bed, he seemed as casual as ever.

One night, you stayed awake to catch a little peek of him working. He seemed lost in thought, but hardly scribbled down any notes. Something else must’ve been weighing down his mind. There was an urge to ask him, but he would most likely be more focused on the fact that you were supposed to be asleep rather than what was directly occupying his thoughts. He was convinced that you were always asleep by the time he went to bed himself.

That wasn’t exactly the case. You always seemed to fall asleep shortly after he crawled under the covers himself.

You rolled to your other side, at a loss for what to do. You were never going to get answers for his unusual behavior unless you asked, but it’s possible that he wasn’t even aware of these habits that you have picked up on. Maybe he was on the verge of giving up after seeing how much Alhaitham clearly favored you, and so all creative inspiration for projects of his own faded away after a while. It almost made you feel bad even though you were there for your own benefit and shouldn’t be worried about the behavior of the teacher’s freeloader.

Still, he didn’t show any hostility towards you. He always made sure to attend meals, even if a little late at times, and he would always talk to you before you turned in for the night. It seemed highly unlikely that he was faking it, otherwise, he would’ve lost himself by now.

By this point, you had been sharing a bed with him for little over a month now. You have finally adjusted to your studies with Alhaitham and had a regular routine that allowed for proper down time.

Lately, you haven’t been thinking twice about going to bed, until a warm, heavy weight clinging to the back of your body woke you up one night.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic

27 notes · View notes

todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 8 months

Note

HAI FRIEND

i’ve literally been obsessed w ur megumi smau since like chp. 14 or something LOLL,, i have this thing where i just psychoanalyze characters and ive been thinking a lot about yn like hm…

(THIS MIGHT BE A LUTTLE LONG BTW SO FEEL FREE TO JUST LIKE IGNORE THIS BUT I RLLY WANT TO TALK ABT HER)

like yn (to a lot of people) may be like a little intolerable but honestly i think the reason we have such a reaction to her personality like that is bc we see a little bit of ourselves in her if that makes sense…

PERSONALLY, I AM A YN DEFENDER FOR LIKE THATS MY HOMEGIRL.. like imagine you grew up in a world where soulmates are the basis of your romantic future. the sheer fact that that in itself already builds a sense of you either love your soulmate or hate them in someones head (considering that most of the time,, soulmates are portrayed as; first time you meet, you just know)

yn,, having met megumi long before you brain could have developed a coherent understanding of relationships, and lacking in the sense that when she met megumi,, she didn’t feel sparks like they said she would, obviously, she would categorize those feelings as hate. THATS WHY WHEN MEGUMI SAID “i dont think you really ever hated me either” HIT SO HARD FOR ME I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD…

BASICALLY WHAT IM GETTING AT is the fact that there is so much pressure already due to the fact that soulmates are said to be your other halves, so if you don’t like them, theres immense pressure and insecurity (hence yn’s hostility to the subject of her hating megumi because she has no comprehended idea of why she actually hates him) plus the fact that they met when they were kids and that probably affected the way she saw relationships in the first place EXPLAINS WHY SHE IS SO ADMENT ON BEING INDIFFERENT TO HIMMM

ok… another thing (sorry)..

AS MUCH as i love yn’s friend group,,, THEY LOWKEY PISS ME OFF THE SAME WAY YN PISSES ME OFF HELP..

OK SO,, obviously i’d also get pissed off if my friends get hostile bc i bring something up to want to understand them better, BUT at the same time, i would also have some sympathy 😢😢

LIKE,, their immediate response is to press harder, and try to solve the problem and if youre looking at texts like that thru yn’s eyes, it will prob lowkey feel like your feelings are being invalidated. yn is already confused, probably insecure about her love life, and now having to literally throw up her heart into her hands just for her friends to understand why they feel that way,, like she’s not gnna want to do that no matter how close they are (but maybe thats js me idk…) and then their immediate response to her not wanting to show that side of her is to get pissed off like i’d be mad and sad like yn too :(

i think those are all the points i was thinking sbt but if not im not gnna try to rmbr the rest bc this is alr super long.. BUT I HOPE U ENJOYED MY RANT AND I LOVE UR SMAU AND I LOVE U MUAH I HOPE U HAVE A GREAT DAY

I LOVE U I LOVE U I LOVE U

i absolutely ADOREEEE when people psychoanalyze the characters (mostly only when the analysis is correct tho LMFAOAO autism.) BECAUSE I DO THE SAME THINGGG i kinda have to when i’m doing plot heavy smaus like this to make sure everything fits n there’s the least amount of plot holes possible blah blah blah insert my annoying rambling on how i write

ANYWAY i loved ur analysis u r so amazing n so right ! like i get yn is annoying but lord have mercy so is everyone else that’s the POINTTTTT NO ONE HERE IS ACTUALLY IN THE WRONG OR BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE. EVERYONE HAS THEIR REASONING FOR WHAT THEY DO OR DONT DO!!! ugh sorry okay i’m gonna shut up now i could talk about this forever i fear .

I LOVE UUUU HAVE A GREAT DAYYYY

#axel answers ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

6 notes · View notes

jacquelinemerritt · 1 year

Text

Dragon Ball Z: Broly - Legendary Super Saiyan Abridged Review

Originally posted September 5th, 2018

It’s difficult to care about such a shallow character, even as he has the trappings of coolness.

I am probably not the right person to review this movie. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m capable of approaching this movie with the critical lens it deserves, because of one simple fact: I do not find the concept of Broly to be inherently cool. And I feel like this movie was written for people who find Broly inherently cool, whether or not they believe that he works as a character in practice.

It’s difficult for me to simply accept Broly as cool, because for me, I tend to only be impressed by a character’s “coolness” when I’ve already seen that there’s more to them than whatever external trappings make them that way, or in the best stories, when what makes a character cool is shown off right alongside their depth.

For a good example, we can just look back at Vegeta, who, to me at least, only ever started to feel badass after we started to see how much of a petulant child he is at his core, and how much he has to struggle to succeed against Freeza and his warriors. Vegeta struggling against enemies he legitimately fears, and coming out successful, is what makes him feel badass, not just his ability to quip off perfect one-liners or keep up his façade of confidence at all times.

Broly’s story prevents him from having any kind of interesting struggle here though, as unlike our heroes, he didn’t gain his power by training, or having close encounters with death; he gained his powers by simply being born into them, and having his Super Saiyan state triggered by hearing the name of a baby he hated.

The immense amount of power Broly wields against our heroes does make him an effective antagonist, I admit, but without a struggle of his own, and without any kind of actual reasonable motivation, Broly simply does not work for me, and I can’t bring myself to care at all about him.

And that’s a problem, because while the movie clearly makes fun of people who think Broly is “so cool” by having Vegeta fawn over him, it still seems to find some value in his character’s existence and coolness, mostly by treating Vegeta’s proclamations of Broly’s coolness as genuine, while having him express frustration at Broly’s shallow motivation.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with Team Four Star liking Broly on some level, of course, but I have so much trouble wrapping my head around the idea that you could have a genuine affection for such a shallow, flimsy character that I end up feeling lost, almost left behind by this movie’s expectation that I am supposed to be interested in Broly on some level. I don’t care about this legendary Super Saiyan, and nothing short of a complete reinvention of his character is likely to ever change that for me.

So it’s probably weird for me to then say that despite not caring about Broly, I still rather enjoy this movie, even if it loses me about halfway through. One weak character does not a movie break, and the movie is at its best when its focusing on the much better defined characters we all know and love.

Korin and Yajirobe’s wedding reception is very sweet, as is Goku’s horribly inept attempt to get Gohan into a good college. I also love how effectively Paragus plays to Vegeta’s ego, leading him to New Vegeta with ease by simply referring to him as a king, ultimately earning the role of Vegeta’s Royal Vizier through schmooze alone. There’s also the running gag of calling Trunks a princess and using she/her pronouns for her, which is a good time because misgendering cis people is always a good time, especially since Trunks clearly isn’t that bothered by it in the first place.

And I would be absolutely remiss if I failed to mention the Shamoians, a diminutive race of lifestyle submissives, who willingly subject themselves to slavery and beatings, simply because they get off on it. Reframing these aliens as consenting to their treatment opens up a lot more avenues for comedy than If they were played straight, and Team Four Star consistently toes the line between pointing out how absurd this concept is, and being respectful of their collective love for a slavery kink.

Most importantly though, we’re shown that these aliens ultimately do have boundaries, as while they at first salivate over the idea of Broly treating them cruelly, when it’s clear that he’s going to endanger their safety, they scramble to remember their safe word, making it clear that his actions are no longer something they consent to. It’s funny because they’ve been submissive so long that they’ve forgotten their safeword, but it also serves to reinforce the idea that their exchange of power was only okay because of their active consent, an idea that is absolutely essential to ethically practicing kink.

It’s small moments like these, Goku’s search for the person who killed South Galaxy, and Piccolo’s dismay at Gohan possibly not getting into his preferred school, that keep this movie interesting for me, and while I will probably never be able to enjoy Broly as a character, thanks to the other characters still being excellently portrayed, I don’t feel like I have to. One legendary Super Saiyan is enough for this girl, after all.

Rating: 3.5/5

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

#dragon ball z abridged #dragon ball z #team four star #tfs #dbza #dbz #dbza movie #dbza broly

8 notes · View notes

realthoughtsrawemotions · 6 months

Text

I’ve had this awareness of a voice inside my head ever since I was about 8 or 9 years old. It would get really judgmental and I would get irritated at this judgement. It was like I was at war with myself all the time. Throughout my childhood I learned to build confidence through praying to God. I was raised Catholic but could never relate to the man in the sky. I just deeply held that voice in my head and trusted that it was God. God was like a benevolent best friend to me. When I needed to make a tackle in football I prayed to God quickly closed my eyes and to my disbelief I would make the tackle and was taken care of. I lived like this all throughout my teenage years as I learned to trust this voice inside. This helped tremendously with wrestling and jiu jitsu.

I was also exposed to the movie the Secret at around 14 years old. This really helped me connect with this voice inside and trust in the Universe. With this spiritual wisdom and my religious upbringing I was able to overcome many obstacles throughout high school and succeed in many areas, including school and athletics. Towards the middle of my second year of University I fell into a deep depression and I didn’t know why. I had moved from British Columbia to Alberta and thought that Edmonton was the problem. So I walked away from a full ride scholarship for wrestling back home with my parents hoping to get a scholarship at SFU back in BC. Of course I fell into an even deeper depression. I now had no team support and I felt distant from all my friends. My grades dropped dramatically and I actually got to a point where I wasn’t wrestling as much.

I remember one day I was so upset my friend took me from the gym in the middle of our workout and took me to a wharf alongside some water. I spilled my heart out that I felt like a loser and that I couldn’t get a girlfriend. That I had no value in life and everything was slipping away from me. I told her that after my grandpa had died a couple years prior that I was never able to truly be happy and that I lost my spark. I lost myself. As I was saying this a crow appeared and inched its way closer to us. It got within an arms length away and bobbed its head towards us. We could both feel the presence of my grandpa in that crow and suddenly I started crying uncontrollably. My friend held me and I completely let go of everything. All the grief. All the pain. I just let it all go in that moment. I got this sudden urge to bring flowers to my grandma from my deceased grandpa since it was Mother’s Day that day.

After that day my life took a completely different trajectory. I gained an immense amount of confidence and I became absolutely fascinated with esoteric knowledge and was just a student of life. I dove even deeper into law of attraction books with a childlike fascination and joy. I met my current girlfriend a week after that day. We’ve been together almost 7 years (May. 13, 2017). I was able to get back in the flow of life and became motivated to start going back to wrestling practices and got onto the starting line up for the SFU wrestling team. I turned my GPA from a 1.8 to a 3.6 and I finally had the courage and confidence to get certified as a personal trainer. Instead of being stuck in between degrees (kinesiology, behavioural neuroscience) I fell in love with psychology and took so many amazing fun courses and graduated with my psychology degree. Without going into too much further since even since this time I have suffered greatly and couldn’t really get into every experience without making this a novel.

I am currently going through a spiritual depression. A dark night of the soul. May of 2023 I had an extremely profound mushroom trip where I was asked if I wanted to meet God and see Heaven. A deeper voice outside of me that was witnessing me asked me this question. My human head nodded yes. The voice added “if you wish to meet God and see Heaven then you must also meet the Devil and see Hell”. Again my human head nodded and off I went on my journey. I suddenly could see everything. I could see behind houses and into the sky. The world looks so much bigger and more intricate. I became immensely present. I walked into a cemetery and immediately felt the weight and the energy of this place. I started to feel a deep sadness and almost got completely wrapped into it. I was worried I would lose my mind completely. I surrendered anyways. Then I suddenly had a realization that I don’t have to stay here. That I don’t have to stay in hell and that hell is a state of mind. Hell is what I experience when I become toxicly attracted to my desires and deathly afraid of my fears. I realized that I could still experience all the beautiful things in life I just had to walk the middle path. I could live life from a place of service and gratitude. I could love everything with my entire heart and see the beauty in everything. I walked over to a park and fell of the ground collapsing with joy. I stopped trying. I truly let go and surrendered. I didn’t even want to put in the effort to keep myself upright. I had a smile so wide on my face. I actually couldn’t remove it nor did I want to. I let of all of my worries and fears. I was truly blissful. I looked up into the sky and saw Heaven. The sky and clouds swirled with sacred geometry. I saw God in the sky too but it wasn’t a figure. It’s so hard to explain but it was like a feeling but deeper. It was a knowing that everything was perfect. That everything in my life was led up into this moment and that I was one with everything around me. That I could rest in the moment for infinity and I could go back to the source.

Again I was given a choice. That higher voice of consciousness that spoke to me earlier. Interestingly enough it was the same voice I heard as a 9 year old boy and the same voice I trusted and called God in my teenage years that led me through football, wrestling and jiu-jitsu. That voice asked me if I wanted to go back to earth and go back to my life or go back to the source and stay in infinite love forever. That voice was very kind. It reminded me that even if I go back to my life that I can always come back and ultimately all of humanity and everything in creation will eventually come back to the source as one. Enough lifetimes and lessons and pain and joy and eventually we will all merge back into the source. Into Heaven. And that if I ever wanted a taste of this Heaven after going back to my life I can always go within and there will find it. Then I started laughs loudly with joy and I fell over again with complete amusement and happiness. Heaven was inside of me this whole time. Man has looked up to the sky and the stars and yet it has and always is so close. Right inside of us. Inside of me. I concentrated my energy into the middle of forehead. That’s how close Heaven was to me. I chose to go back to my life fully knowing that I would get hurt again by my own desires and fears. I knew now that this was all part of the divine plan and that ultimately it would all be ok and that we would all be led to this living divine source one day and to enjoy this beautiful and challenging experience of being human.

Since then I have struggled a lot. I’ve had highs and lows and again it would be hard to get into specific without making it a novel. Currently I feel like I’m at a crossroads in life. I know that I have this source within me and that it’s in all of us. I still hear the voice within but lately it’s been more of the ego speaking. I am aware of it so at least I’m conscious but it’s been hard to connect with God or true awareness/consciousness. Sometimes on this journey it gets so lonely. It’s weird I’ve hard experiences of oneness yet at times feel so disconnected with everyone and everything. Sometimes I can connect with others very deeply and often times with nature very deeply. Still I feel this longing to understand this voice and to let the voice of the ego go. It gets really loud in my head sometimes and I want to get clear and let go of my demons and my negativity. I am determined to find peace in this world and to understand this voice inside and make friends with it once again. This is my journey of self discovery. This is my life.

#spirituality #witness consciousness #consciousness

1 note · View note

adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

Text

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body.

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can.

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso.

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again.

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window.

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit.

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for.

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock.

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful.

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain.

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it?

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can.

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge.

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use.

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore.

K = Kinks

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity.

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold.

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence.

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench.

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail.

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”)

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.

#ysijwa #harry styles smut #vampire!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles mature #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

Text

Cautious

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I decided to do a lil something with dad to be/husband!Harry and Y/n bc they're cute, sweet, and spicy...this one is also a little bit funny too. there's also a tiny hint of subby wife!Y/n in here too...Enjoy🙃

Harry refused to give you sex. Anytime you asked him for his cock, he always said no, citing that “he didn’t want to harm the baby”. When you first found out that you were pregnant, your hormones and Harry’s sex drive were through the roof. You two were not only having sex everyday, that was normal for you two; you and Harry were going at it like three sometimes four times a day now that you were carrying. You guys’ sex life had managed to skyrocket to an even higher level than it was on before the pregnancy. Harry was amazed at how your body was changing and growing with his child (he has a bit of a breeding kink) and you had a heightened sensitivity in your breasts and between your legs which made you even more needy for him. This constant sex routine so to speak, continued on for a good while too. That is, until the two of you paid a visit to your doctor for your week 20 ultrasound. That was the day everything changed; and by everything, you meant you guys’ sex life. From the moment Harry saw the developed baby and all of her prominent features, Harry went into lockdown mode. He was already extremely helpful and careful with you ever since the beginning of this pregnancy journey and even more so when he found out that you guys were having a baby girl. But now that he could actually see his little girl and not just a little dot on the screen, along with feeling her moving around in your belly, he was on a mission to do everything that was in you and your daughters best interests. Even if that meant limited or no sex.

Now you could understand taking the rough part out of the equation, but sex overall?! That was absolutely not okay for you. Yes he was being the sweetest husband and dad to be in the world, and yes you loved him immensely for that. But you were horny! In fact, him taking all of those measures to keep you and your daughter safe was a big turn on. It’s not like you were demanding for him to pound you into next month. You’d find great enjoyment in that of course, but like Harry, you wouldn’t want to put the baby at risk. All you wanted was for him to be inside of you. You even offered to put some anal action onto play from time to time. Sure he gave you his fingers and mouth, and yes they were magnificent and got the job done, but his cock just hit different. You didn’t even want to use the dildo he got for you that was a nearly exact replica to his cock. But it’s not like you could really use it anyways since you couldn’t see over your mountain of a belly. Which speaking of your mountain of a belly, you were so desperate for his cock that you even bookmarked articles online that listed the different sex positions that could accommodate your bump.

Now your neediness for Harry’s cock was also translated into tears. Along with your horny hormones being heightened, you also had emotional hormones that were a bit out of wack too. Since you weren’t getting his cock frequently, you started to think that he wasn’t attracted to you any more. But luckily for you, Harry nipped that right in the bud. When you told him how you felt, he spent the entire night pretty much worshiping your body. He gave you everything you’d been craving for in the weeks prior. He used his mouth, fingers, and cock in the most mind-blowing ways and pleasured you for as long as you needed. And in the process of making you feel good, he still made sure that you and the baby were okay. He was able to be the adorable worry wart he is and be pleasured at the same time, and you were able to be pleasured the way you so desperately needed.

It was absolutely amazing; and about a month ago.

You were now one week away from your 8 month mark and you were still horny. After that amazing night together, Harry went from softly dicking you down to sex lockdown. His fingers and mouth were in heavy and really the only things in rotation, and you were dying to have his cock inside of you. It’s also notable to point out that this was the first time in you guys’ relationship that Harry tried to not have sex with you. Which meant that this entire situation was uncharted territory and you were extremely ready to get back to what you were familiar with. And that would be regular sex. And you were planning on getting it by any means necessary. Even if it meant that you would be the one on your knees.

See, you’d been trailing behind Harry all day long. After he used his mouth on you first thing this morning, you were in need for more. Even though you were thinking it, you didn’t want to just come out and say “I want sex!”. You didn’t want to ignite one of you guys’ frequent and very trivial tit for tat battles, so you just followed him around and kept as close as possible. You even pulled up a chair and cuddled up next to him as he had a zoom meeting with his team. Even though he was kind of the reason why you had as a serious ache between your thighs, you weren’t going anywhere. You continued to sit there with him for the entire duration of his meeting, keeping yourself busy on your phone until you were able to have his full attention. And once you did, you pounced; you were going to get rid of that ache. As soon as he hung up, you lifted your head up from his shoulder and you carefully slide yourself down onto the floor before moving between your legs.

“Y/n, get up off the floor!” He exclaims concernedly, leaning himself forward to help get you up from the floor.

“No! I want your cock.” You whine, bringing your hands up to tug at the waistband of his sweats. “This is the only way I can get it since you can’t seem to understand that the baby will be perfectly fine if we have sex.” You continue on, tugging at his waistband a bit harder for him to finally lift his hips so that you can pull them down. Once he does, you’re quick to tug them down to his ankles before pulling them off and tossing them to the side. You push his legs apart and you immediately reach out to wrap your hand around his soft and hardening cock. “Just wanna make us feel good.” You explain softly, keeping your eyes locked with his as you bring your mouth in and down onto his cock.

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry groans, feeling your warm mouth glide down onto him. Harry hadn’t seen you on your knees let alone with his cock in your mouth in a really good while. It’s almost as if he forgot about how good it feels to simply rest on your tongue and inside of your warm mouth. After you take a good amount of him inside your mouth, you just hold him there. You suck on his hardening and girthy shaft a bit but you just hold him on your tongue. Simply having the weight of his cock was already working for you. Once you’ve just head him there for a little longer while squeezing at his thighs, you pull you mouth up from his shaft and you immediately replace your mouth with your hand. You begin tugging at his glistening shaft, keeping your eyes on his cock. As you do this, all you can hear is little moans falling from Harry’s mouth above you. Even though he didn’t want you on your knees at all, he couldn’t deny the fact that your mouth and hands worked wonders.

“So big.” You admire through a whisper, as you push your hand down his shaft one final time before bringing your mouth back onto him. As you do though, you can’t stop yourself from rubbing up against one of his legs. Your clit was tingling and on fire and you needed to quickly rub it out. But once you pushed yourself against him and realized how good it felt, you couldn’t stop. As you pushed your mouth back and forth on his shaft and took him all the way to the back of your throat at times, you managed to simultaneously rub your center against his leg through your leggings. You weren’t able to get much of a rhythm to your movements but you could care less since it felt so good. While you were contently and very happily taking care of yourself and Harry’s cock, Harry was in absolute heaven above you. He had a hand on the back of your head and his own head was tightly tilted back against the top of the chair. Even though he had no problem forgoing his pleasure at times to ensure that you and the baby were okay, it was still nice to have you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. He hadn’t seen that sight in a good while and he was looking forward to a time where he could see it more often. What was even better than you having your mouth on him was the fact that you were practically humping his leg and trying to get yourself off in the process. And not only could he hear your muffled whimpers and moans, Harry could also feel them. As you continued to suck and gag on him, he could feel the vibrations from your moans on his cock.

“Feelin’ good down there baby?” Harry moans through a string of pants, feeling your movements against his leg and cock become more feverish. To reply, you pull your mouth up from his shaft and you rest your head on one of his thighs as you continue to more for hand and yourself against him.

“So good.” You moan dreamily, feeling yourself get closer to a release.

“Look so pretty too.” He begins, bringing his hand that was on the back of your head to your cheek. “Love seein’ my pretty and pregnant little wife on her knees f’me.” He moans as he watches you play with the head of him and lick at his shaft while continuing your movements against his leg. “Even prettier when she’s using me to get herself off. Is that pretty little pussy of yours feeling good sweetheart?” He asks softly through his continued moans, as he begins to feel the damp spot that bled right through your panties and leggings against his leg.

“Feels so good.” You whimper before bringing your mouth to the swollen head of his cock to suckle on him. Your tongue was swirling all around the sensitive edge of his swollen head and you even pushed the tip of your tongue against his slit, causing him to practically melt into his seat.

“Wanna cum with me sweetheart?” He asks shakily through a string of strained moans as he feels his own release speeding towards him.

“Mhm!” You mumble, keeping your mouth on him. To push him right into his release, you use your free hand thats resting on his thigh down between his legs to squeeze his warm and full balls in you hand.

“Fuck! Cum with me baby!” He shouts, feeling himself falling right into his release. And as he does, so do you. You keep yourself pressed tightly against his leg as you let go. The grip you had on him with your mouth gets tighter as the wave of your release washes over you. You could feel yourself just melting away as you came. Harry could feel your juices coating his skin as he came right in your mouth. It felt so good to just let go with each other and ride out the blissful waves of your releases.

Once you’re all done swallowing every drop of his cum, you pull your mouth off of Harry’s cock and you move back off of his leg before reaching over to grab his pants and help him put them on. But he quickly brings your actions to an immediate halt.

“You don’t have to help me with that sweetheart, let’s just get you back up and comfortable.” He directs, taking the pants from your hands and sitting them on the desk before helping you get up from the floor below him. Once you’re up, he guides you back to the seat you were once sitting in before swiftly putting his pants back on.

“Feelin’ better lovie?” He asks sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss to one of your chubby cheeks. Before you could even think about it, you just blurt out how you were actually feeling.

“M’feeling good al all, it’s just that we’re getting real close to the due date and I want to get as much of you and your cock in as possible because once I have the baby I’ll be all stitched up and healing, during and after that we’ll be tired from taking care of a newborn, and I don’t know how I’m gonna feel and stuff afterwards so I really want you as much as possible. So stop being overprotective and let me have your cock!” You bluntly and quickly explain, feeling a little pool of tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t cry baby!” He coos softly to you, pulling up from your seat and into his lap. “M’sorry for not taking better care of you and being so over protective. Just don’t want anything to happen to you or bubs.” He explains, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“You do an amazing job at taking care of me and I love you so much for that. But we’ll be fine. And if bubs isn’t for it, she’ll just kick me like she always does.” You reassure him with a little smile spread across your face.

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckles, bringing his hand down to your swollen stomach.

“I know.” You sigh happily, nuzzling your head down into his shoulder. “Now I think that we can agree on cockwarmimg every night, even when we have little naps during the day.” You propose.

“I can do that and anything else you want doll.” Harry readily agrees, more than happy to give you what you wanted.

“Good! Now can we go upstairs and take a nap, I’m a little tired? Being on my knees and getting up wore me out.”

“Anything for you my princess.” He chuckles.

In these next couple of weeks, Harry was going to make sure you got everything you needed…but obviously with caution of course because it was still Harry you were talking about here.

Masterlist

839 notes · View notes

icaruskeyartist · 3 years

Note

Re: your latest Whipping Girl video: 1. I'm kind of horrified that your description of Nazism was just "bad takes." 2. Medicine as an institution has historically been incredibly transphobic (and every other -ist/-phobic); you don't need to defend *doctors* from Julia Serano's supposed anti-doctor bias, for goodness sake. Doctors are not an oppressed class. They (usually) provide a necessary service, but the immense amount of power they have in this society means that they invariably end up contributing to oppression.

I think your other videos in this series have been great, but I really disagree with your approach to this one.

This might be the most tone deaf ask I've ever gotten and that includes the kys anons from baeddel defenders.

Harry Benjamin was born in Germany but visited the US and opted to return there when he was traveling back to Europe and got caught up in WWI. He was never a Nazi.

Alfred Kinsey is from New Jersey. He was also never a Nazi.

Richard Green, beyond being born in New York, was born in 1936. He was too young to be a Nazi during WWII, and as far as I can tell while he used shitty language around trans people and in his research, never expressed any beliefs of eugenics.

John Money, piece of shit that he is, is from New Zealand. This man is easily the closest to a Nazi that I can imagine out of the main resource that Serano was using to pull her biggest complaints from (Transsexualism and Sex Reassignment, published in 1969). He forced twins to simulate sexual acts with each other. He's the main person responsible in David Reimer's death (Reimer's parents to a lesser extent).

I am not defending doctors as a class when I choose to point out the careful way that Serano whitewashes doctors, psychiatrists, psychologists, and therapists all under the term "gatekeepers". Luke has done an excellent job reminding me in a civil way about gatekeepers in British transgender health, and I will be the first to bring up how gatekeeping was used as a device in Transamerica, since the therapist literally holds her letter for bottom surgery hostage until she has her client do what she deemed best.

However, saying that I'm defending fucking Nazis? Is a fucking shallow, idiotic take when I took pains to explain that the MAJORITY of Serano's complaints came from a book published in 1969 -- not only was the book nearly 40 years old when she started writing Whipping Girl, but this was the FIRST book on transsexual medical needs EVER. This book fucking helped bring about a codification on trans health needs, made SRS more acceptable, and even if it's shit by today's standards, because it absolutely is, I'm still damn happy that it was made because who knows how trans healthcare would be in the US otherwise? I'll definitely take WPATH guidelines over being at the whim of whomever is seeing me at the fucking time.

If this is about How Sex Changed, I also literally said I couldn't substantiate what claims Serano was backing up at the time because A. I don't have access to the book and B. I don't have time to read the entire book if I even had access to it.

Do I think doctors contribute to oppression? Yes, I fucking do. I say in the video how there's stuff taught to this day that's bullshit, like black and brown people having increased pain tolerances over white people, or "corrective factors" when testing black people's blood that can put them in life endangering events. How about all the hell that women have to go through not being taken seriously about pain? How about the fact that stealth trans men are forcibly outed for reproductive health care?

However, I can also have a huge fucking problem with Serano deriding the idea of therapy and then talking about how no one is prepared for life after transitioning even though that's why therapy is so recommended long term in the first place. And I can have a huge fucking issue with her pulling most of her complaints from a medical book that was, in 2005, fucking knowingly out of date. In the 25 citations that were in the half of chapter 7 I read, 7 of those citations were from Transsexualism and Sex Reassignment. That's actually a fucking lot, especially since every single time I would check one of her citations after she'd wax poetic about gatekeepers, I'd find... well what do you know? It's Transsexualism and Sex Reassignment again.

So no. I'm not defending Nazis. I'm not saying that all doctors, psychiatrists, therapists, psychologists, etc are coming at trans studies with a heart of gold. Hell, I'm not even defending any of the people I listed above! But please tell me how I'm defending Nazism when I literally never breathed a word about Nazis or eugenics and actively put down people like Money while still explaining how Transsexualism and Sex Reassignment and works like it were still a huge leap in trans medical history at the time.

29 notes · View notes

trainingdummyrabbit · 2 years

Note

late for the ask game but if you're still doing it; molly blyndeff !

oh i am absolutely still doing it! lets see what we got!

> First impression i actually didnt see her at all until i started watching! from the start it was kind of an ambient “oh whos this? cute design.” an overall positive!

> Impression now oh i wanna give her a hug SO bad. genuinely so good. ok so, from a writing standpoint, she is SO good. love her little quirks, the way shes written is immensely solid and she fits in so well for the genre. capable of being both the “What Is Actually Going On Here.” role and the “Sillymode(tm)” role, sometimes at the same time. also, as a kid character, that aspect comes across so well! shes never belittled or looked down on (by the narrative) like other series have a tendency to do-- shes just a person. and thats nice. and shes Written like a person! shes taken seriously, and still has those little quirks where she is Very Clearly A Kid, without hammering it in too hard!

> Favorite moment honestly... a really big sucker for the exchange she has when she first meets the banzai blasters. it tells so much about her character and the way she thinks, while seamlessly melding with the silly antics the other characters present! and she harmonizes so well with it, being Mostly the role of the Level-Headed one, but still so clearly dyed by the context of the narrative theyre in being... well, silly! her craftiness and the blasters’ dumb villainy is just... utterly infectious to watch.

> Idea for a story [smacks hands on table] there are never enough museumtrio sleepover fics. on the other hand though, molly is another character that would benefit really well from an introspective-centered story, one where things are happening, yes, but the main focus is on Molly’s internal thoughts and feelings, how She chooses to act or react to things. it could be anything, honestly-- but itd do really well in a scenario like the banzaimeeting like stated above. let! her! SCHEME!

> Unpopular opinion this is less of an unpopular opinion and more of something i try to be wary of reading or writing: babying her too much. she Is baby, yes, and she is. so so tired and so badly deserves a nap, but she is also Immensely sharp witted and quick to solve problems, and its very easy to fall into writing kid characters (especially like her) as cardboard cutouts: weak stand-ins for where a character could go. not to say ive necessarily Seen it (at least, not that i directly remember,) but i so badly want to exemplify Every Bit of her character. she is a kid and should Not be burdened with the responsibility of what so many other characters must-- but she isnt useless. she isnt some damsel in distress. she should kick someone in the shins if she has to. id clap.

> Favorite relationship ok a little bit of a weird one. its kind of a tie right now but: giovanni or indus. her interactions with giovanni are genuinely so infectious to watch. they play off of each other perfectly, both of them enabling the other in silly shit while flailing around trying to make shit work. not to mention what a good emotional influence gio is on her, or the amount of level-headedness molly brings to the table. their balance is very very good and watching them mess around was very fun! indus... might be a little biased, but indus’ complete and total envelopment in the genre makes watching molly interact with him Immensely fun. and the fact that indus genuinely respects her makes me immensely happy! especially considering she does the same right back to him. whether theyre on the same side or not, the way their characters flow around each other is very fun. id love to see them talk to each other again.

> Favorite headcanon molly likes to feel tall. piggyback rides, tall stools, theatre seats wayyy in the back-- its fun! i think she would enjoy it. she likes being able to look over things and point to things in the distance she couldnt have seen otherwise. i imagine shed like to swing her feet if she gets one of those tall chairs at a restaurant or something.

[Ask Game]

#ask game #oh this was a Fun one to tease out.#also i should clarify that the relationship section is like. never gonna be romantic except if i specify it as such.#it says in the post it isnt ship related at all; but i feel i should disclaim it here again anyway.#anyhow. i love molly and the way shes written so so much; i just never ever talk abt it. not much i can say that others havent!#genuinely a very good protagonist though-- she was so much fun to follow along. big part of my love for th museum arc skdjgn

5 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Love and Admiration Part 7- Drinks

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warning for male masturbation

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

You must have cycled through half a dozen different outfits before you finally settled on one you liked: a careful balance of sexy and comfortable after a long day of hero work. You’ve only been to Masahiro’s once before but it’s a nice enough place and the drinks are good. You spend a stupid amount of time putting on makeup and then double, triple, and quadruple checking how you look in the mirror before you finally head out.

It’s an easy train ride into downtown, a few people recognize and stop you to ask for an autograph or words of wisdom or advice. It’s a surreal experience, sure your popularity has been exploding lately but it’s still odd to be treated as a celebrity. As you walk past a billboard of yourself advertising athleticwear it occurs to you that you kind of are a celebrity. Your train of thought is interrupted by Masahiro’s coming into view. You hurriedly duck into the bar, it’s pretty empty on a Thursday night so it doesn’t take you long to spot Bakugo. He, of course, looks incredible. He’s got on a plaid over shirt that he’s rolled up to his elbows, impressive forearms on display. The black tee he wears beneath it stretches tightly over his muscular chest. He’s sitting at the bar top but you can still appreciate the way his jeans hug his legs. He’s scowling down at his phone, having not noticed your entrance, and it shouldn’t be an attractive expression but somehow on him it just is. You take a deep steadying breath as you steel your nerves, trying to calm down your racing heart as you walk over towards him.

“Where are the others?” Bakugo’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice, eyes connecting with yours. “They bailed,” he scoffs, his annoyance clear in his voice. You hum in acknowledgment but then lean against the bar to flag down the bartender. Bakugo watches you curiously, only now properly taking in your appearance. You look good, he’ll admit. In the back of his head a voice that sounds suspiciously like Denki corrects him that you look hot. It’s his first time seeing you in civilian clothing, he realizes, and you wear it well. He’s still trying to decide whether he prefers you in your civilian clothes or hero costume when you finally get the bartender’s attention and the sound of your voice snaps Bakugo out of his trance. His ears go slightly pink when he realizes his train of thought and he quickly shakes his head as if doing so will physically dislodge the thought from his brain. He decides to instead focus on whatever you’re talking to the bartender about. “An order of your finest saké please, and just keep the bottles coming until we ask you to stop,” you tell the bartender with a grin. Bakugo is about to stop you, it’s a ludicrous fucking request considering the astronomical price tag that will surely come with it, but then you finish your sentence. “Oh and would you mind putting it on Chargebolt’s tab? He wanted to treat us to celebrate our big bust today but had to bail cause of work stuff. Y’know how pro hero work is,” you continue. “Of course! No problem Mercury, I’ll get right on that,” the bartender tells you before whisking off to fulfill your request.

As you get comfortable in your seat you find Bakugo giving you a slightly impressed look to which you respond with a shrug. “If he’s gonna bail on us the least he can do is let us get plastered on his money. If the bill gets too ridiculous we’ll switch to one of the other flakes’ tabs,” you reply with a grin. To your delight, Bakugo’s mouth stretches into an amused smirk as he chuckles. “Well played Mercury, well played,” he tells you as the bartender brings over the first bottle and fills two small glasses for you both. “We’re off duty, at least call me (y/l/n),” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. “Well then (y/l/n), let’s make dunce face’s fucking wallet hurt,” Bakugo tells you, grin almost feral as he takes his glass and holds it up. “I’ll drink to that,” you grin before raising your own. The two of you cheers before quickly drinking down the contents of your cups, probably too quickly considering the quality it, and then pour yourselves another round.

Fast forward a few hours and you both have had way too much to drink. Your laughter is too loud, your grins too wide, but neither of you seems to care and after one person had tried to tell you to quiet down and Bakugo nearly ripped their head off no one else has made an attempt. Bakugo genuinely didn’t expect to have this good of a time. Sure, you occasionally would start teasing him, bringing back his trademark scowl, but it was always good natured in the same way Kirishima, Kaminari, and (dare he say it) even Deku tended to be. The kind of teasing he didn’t hate, the kind that didn’t make him want to hide under the bluster and temper that he’d worn like a shield most of his life. He also can’t help but notice little things about you like the beautiful color of your eyes, the way your outfit hangs off your incredible body just right, the way your laugh seems to brighten the entire room. The more the two of you drink the harder it is for him to push the thoughts away. Every time you almost catch him staring a little too intently, he’s immensely grateful he can blame the flush in his cheeks on the alcohol. You are distracting in a way no one has ever been for him and it’s a disconcerting enough thought that he shoves it away and locks it in a box full of things he refuses to think about.

“Hey Bakugo, you listening?” you ask, waving a hand in front of his face. “Course I’m listening dumbass what?” he snaps, disgruntled at being caught lost in his thoughts of you. “That’s a lie,” you snort. Bakugo is about to snap at you but you raise your hand to cover his mouth with a giggle to stop him from saying anything. “Last call was like an hour ago, they’re kicking us out dummy,” you tell him, sliding your hand away from his mouth to let him reply. “You’re so drunk,” he accuses you like a hypocrite. “So are you,” you fire back. He doesn’t have a rebuttal for that so he just rolls his eyes before grasping hold of your hand and pulling you from the bar and into a waiting rainstorm outside.

Bakugo knows he should let go of your hand now that you two are outside. He knows you both should go somewhere to take shelter from the rain. There’s a lot of things he should do but instead he’s just standing opposite you, staring at your wide delighted eyes as you grin from ear to ear, alcohol keeping you warm even as the rain soaks through you two’s clothes. This is the part where he’s supposed to say goodnight and the two of you will walk your separate ways but he finds himself not wanting to leave you yet. “C’mon idiot, lemme walk you home,” he tells you tugging you along towards the train back to Hosu City. “I can walk myself home you know, I am a pro hero,” you tell him teasingly as you catch up to walk along beside him. The mere thought of you walking around the city drunk and alone is enough to send a protective surge through Bakugo as he growls out “Absolutely fucking not.” Even on the train he tugs you in closer against him, hiding you in the protective shell of his body and trying very hard not to think about exactly how close you are right now as you giggle and tease him. Your smell fills his nose and it’s intoxicating. He almost feels more drunk off your very presence than he does the copious amounts of saké the two of you had consumed.

Finally the two of you arrive at your apartment and Bakugo finds himself wishing the walk had taken longer. “This is me,” you tell him as the two of you walk up to your front door. He needs to let you go, you’re both soaked through and could use a long, hot shower but his alcohol soaked brain insists on telling him the two of you should conserve water and shower together. He tries to keep his eyes focused on yours but he can’t help the way they instead wander down to your lips. They’re so close and you’re standing there so open and vulnerable. Without consciously choosing to do so Bakugo feels himself start to lean in as if pulled by some gravitational force. He’s close, so close and when your eyes flutter shut he knows you feel the same pull he does. Just before he can close that final distance between you two, your phone rings, shattering the moment and causing both of you to spring apart. You curse and fumble to retrieve your phone before hurriedly answering. “Wha- yea. I just got home actually. Yes I’m fine,” you tell whoever is on the line with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. You mouth an apology to Bakugo but he’s a little preoccupied trying to figure out what the actual fuck just came over him as you finish up your phone call. Finally you hang up and turn back to him. “Sorry about that, just a friend checking I made it home safe,” you explain. “It’s fine I should, uh, get going,” Bakugo says, looking anywhere but at you with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Oh, ok,” you reply and Bakugo wonders idly if he’s imagining the disappointment he hears in your voice. “I’ll see ya around I guess,” he tells you. “Yea, I’ll see you around,” you reply. He nods and then turns around on his heel and quickly walks back down the direction the two of you had come in, oblivious to your gaze still trained on his back long after he’s entered the stairs.

When Bakugo gets back to his own apartment he almost immediately peels out of his wet clothes, leaving them in a heap in his bathroom as he pads across the cool tiles over to his shower. He can’t get you out of his head. Your laughter, your smile, your body, and especially the way you’d looked as he’d started leaning in towards you in front of your door. He turns the water on hot, waiting until it heats up properly before he steps beneath the spray. He thought the water might help clear his mind but it has the opposite effect. All he can do is think what may have happened had your phone not rang. Unbidden his brains offers him images of him closing that final distance to bring your lips together. He pictures pulling you in closer and kissing you senseless, pictures the way you’d breathlessly pull away just enough to invite him into your apartment. How the two of you would have made your way to the bathroom and stripped out of your wet clothes together instead of alone on opposite sides of town. His dick is already painfully hard when the temptation becomes too much and he reaches down and wraps one hand around it. As he slowly begins to jack himself off, he closes his eyes and pictures your hand wrapped around him instead. The image is so vivid, the memory of you so fresh, that it doesn’t take long for him to start approaching climax. He uses his free hand to steady himself on the wall as he moves his hand faster and faster, still pretending it’s you driving him closer and closer to orgasm. When he finally falls over the precipice, his cum splattering against the shower wall opposite him, it’s your last name that he moans as he slowly pumps himself through it until he’s finally spent. As he slowly comes back to himself, the post orgasmic haze clearing little by little, Bakugo is struck by two thoughts:

1. He is going to murder his idiotic friends

2. He is completely and utterly fucked

A/N: The fic finally earns its 18+ rating. Also, Masahiro’s comes from Masahiro Sakurai, the game developer who created the Kirby and Super Smash Bros games, which have always been my favorite.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx

#hopelessla #bakugo smau #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x fem!reader #bakugo katsuki #hopeless.thirst

138 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | Chapter ten

chapter ten

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: immense amounts of fluff, discussion of bad dreams death and past trauma at the end all related to canon

word count: 5.3K

from the beginning <3

Dreaming wasn’t something that came easily to Spencer. When he did dream they never made any sense, dark and twisting basements, endless staircases, treading a deep dark sea for hours as the waves swallowed him whole. Wind chimes that he couldn’t find wouldn’t stop twinkling as he aimlessly ran around a trailer park. It was never peaceful.

Then his mind found the park and couldn’t stop re-creating it, over and over again in his mind every single night when he closed his eyes.

He was in the middle of the most perfect dreamscape, his girls reading under the sun as Y/N’s head rested on his shoulder…

Then his phone started to ring, opening his eyes to the sun barely waking up as well. He answered the phone before Y/N could wake up beside him, “hello?”

“Spence, I’m so sorry to wake you,” JJ’s voice slipped into his mind and woke up right up, she wouldn’t call unless she needed to. “We have a really bad case, we have to leave like right now and the babysitter can’t take the boys and Henry is still too little to make sure Michael eats during the day and he’s still so little—“

“Hey it’s fine,” he cut her off as he sat up, waking Y/N in the process. “I’m only 12 minutes from Quantico, leave them with Anderson and I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you so much, Spence, oh and they need breakfast, I’ll leave some money with Henry, can you make sure they eat?”

“Absolutely, don’t worry, good luck and be safe,” he reminded her, feeling weird that he didn’t have to go as well.

“Thanks again Spence,” he could hear her smile before hanging up, leaving him to stretch and finally get out of the bed.

“Was that JJ?” Y/N asks, getting out of bed and putting on her housecoat to follow him to the bathroom.

“Yeah, the boys need someone to watch them if you don’t mind?”

“They’re family,” she reminded him with a sleepy smile.

“They need lunches for today, I can drive Amoreena to school with them too?” He’s splashing water on his face so he can wake up enough to drive safely to Quantico, wiping the water from his eyes as he hears Y/N laughing softly.

“It’s Saturday silly, and Monday is their last day anyway if they need to stay that long,” Y/N reminds him, “I’ll try and have breakfast ready when you get back.”

“Tomorrows the 14th, shit,” he remembers his calendar. “I have to take my mom to get her yearly scan and cognitive test done tomorrow morning, I won't be able to send her off on her last day.”

“That’s okay, as long as you’re there for the little graduation and the all about me display ceremony it’ll be fine, it starts at 1:30,” she didn’t mind him missing it but everything in him felt like the worst person ever if he did.

He never wanted to miss anything ever again.

“You’re sure that’s fine?”

She nodded again, wrapping her arms around him and looking up into his beautiful, tired eyes. “Family comes first, that means Diana was in the calendar longer so you go with her. Amoreena just wants to come home with you from school, for the next 10 years of school she’ll be coming home to you.”

“Why don’t we wake Amoreena and go get breakfast with the boys? I’d like to get to know my god kids too…” her voice cooing as she soothed his morning anxiety, blessing him with more time with her, he nodded.

“You go get the boys and come back and pick us up, I’m sure she’ll take a few minutes to contemplate feeding chickens or breakfast,” Y/N smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek softly.

She pulled away but he pulled her right back in, pressing his lips right against hers again and again until they were both laughing, teeth bumping into each other in their early morning delirium. She finally pulled away from his grasp, rushing to the bedroom door so he couldn’t follow her.

“Go get the boys!”

He fake huffed, “fine!”

Slipping into his jeans and a sweater, placing her grandpa’s hat back on his head once more. He made sure he had his wallet and identification, the guards knew him it’s not like he wouldn’t be allowed into the building with a visitors pass.

And then he was out the door and driving down the road. Pulling into Quantico with a strange feeling in his gut, he didn’t realize how much he hated it here until he didn’t need to be there all the time. He was granted a visitors pass, parking in the garage and taking the elevator right up to the BAU.

He walked into the briefing room to find Henry on his phone and Michael sound asleep again on the couch.

“Hey, uncle Spencer!” Henry cheered, not waking Michael in the process somehow.

“Hey buddy,” he said, scooping the now 13-year-old Henry into his arms for a quick hug. He was still cuddly and sensitive and quiet, much like Spencer at that same age.

It was almost like JJ picked him as the godfather knowing he would need him. Choosing to text or call Spencer about cute girls and chess games and new star wars movies, instead of going to his dad for chats about football and beer… or whatever Will was into. Spencer really didn’t give him a chance to get to know him over the last 15 years, harbouring a hatred for him that he didn’t really understand until he met Y/N.

Now will was the jealous one in a sense, wondering what he could do to get his own son to come to him for advice and support. But he understood it, Henry was exactly like Spencer and he needed to see that being awkward and quiet doesn’t last forever.

“So, I’m not sure if your mom and dad told you, but I got married and my wife has a daughter and we’re going to take you boys out to breakfast, okay?”

“She said you’re Nini’s dad, like for real?” Once again someone from the LaMontagne called Amoreena Nini and he had no idea why.

“I donated sperm when your mom got pregnant with you, I didn’t think I’d get to have a family,” he was honest with him. He was old enough to know how it worked and mature enough to hear the word sperm without freaking out.

“Cool, Nini and Mike are normally friends.”

“Why do you guys call her Nini?”

“Michael couldn’t say Amoreena when he was 4 so he called her Nini, and then Dad would call her that when he teased Mike about his crush on her,” it made complete sense for a kid to not be able to pronounce it.

But his brain got stuck on the crush part, turning to Michael who was still sound asleep with his face pressed into his backpack, drooling slightly. JJ’s kid had a crush on his, a weird fantasy he had coming true where he and JJ can be friends forever as in-laws.

It was too bad Amoreena really didn’t like boys, not even in the 8-year-old ‘ew cooties’ way either. She was raised around women and she was comfortable with them, and she had no problem punching Michael in the face if he ever pissed her off. It was going to be interesting seeing them interact today.

“Okay, well let’s get your things and bring them back to our house and then we’ll go get breakfast with my girls,” Spencer smiled, seeing Henry’s face light up at the day he gets to spend with Spencer. “You’re going to love Y/N.”

And he did… walking into Spencer’s new house to drop off his backpack, dropping his jaw when he saw Y/N instead. He was so much like Spencer it made him laugh, patting Henry on the shoulder, “I know,” he teased him.

Henry turned to him with wide eyes, “I’ve never met Nini’s mom, that’s her mom?” He whispered that same anxious boy Spencer used to be staring right back at him.

He nodded with a smile, “yeah, she’s really nice don’t worry.”

“Henry! It’s so nice to meet you,” she says as she walks into the main room.

Henry turns around to see her when she’s pulling him into a big hug, Spencer can see his eyes are closed as he takes a moment to hug a pretty girl. Spencer couldn’t help but bite his tongue, not wanting to laugh and embarrass the poor boy now that he was noticing pretty girls. Even if that girl happened to be his wife, it was inevitable for Henry to crush on one of Spencer’s girlfriends with how much he copied him.

She pulled back softly, Henry’s arms still around her waist, she brushed his beautiful blond hair behind his ears. “You look so much like your mom, you’re so handsome!”

Henry forgot how to breathe, trying to stutter out a thank you as he backed up out of her space and turned to Spencer, “he’s always looked like JJ, you should have seen how tiny he was originally,” Spencer jumped in to save him. “Where is Amoreena?”

“She’s trying to pick between 2 different dresses, I’ll go make sure she’s in one by now,” she smiled at them before leaving the room, heading up the stairs to Amoreena’s room.

“You good?” Spencer nudged Henry, laughing lightly. “She’s your aunt now, she’s not going to think you’re a dork so you can calm down around her, I promise.”

Henry released a deep shaky breath, “you’re right, sorry.”

“It’s fine, I was like that around your mom before you were born, you should have seen me,” he tried to sympathize with the boy, only making a disgusted face arise on him.

“Ew, that’s completely different she’s my mom!”

Spencer wrapped his arm around him, “and Y/N is my wife!” He whispered as loud as he could so that it wouldn’t be heard by her.

Henry sighed, “and she’s like what 50?”

“35,” Spencer looked at him and laughed as he shook his head, “how old do you think I am?”

“Mentally? 6-years-old,” Henry bullied him right back for all the brotherly teasing, “but physically you look 79.”

“Thanks,” Spencer said, tucking the boy under his arm and messing up his hair, “now you look like a dork.”

He loved Henry more than he could express, unlike Amoreena he knew he wasn’t his kid, it wasn’t fatherly at all. Henry was his best friend's kid, his godson and his little brother, and as he got older he was becoming more of a best friend than he thought he would.

—

After breakfast when everyone was awake and happily full, Y/N took them all into town to visit the farmer’s market. Letting the kids look around and see if there was anything they wanted to all make for dinner, she was the best mom and aunt in the whole wide world and Spencer kept falling more and more in love every second he spent with her.

She was glowing in the sunlight, walking through the booths looking at all the fresh vegetables and fruit, Spencer followed her with Michael’s hand in his and Henry not far behind. Amoreena was off talking to her favourite vendor, an older woman who reminded her of her great-grandma, it was sweet.

Spencer thought about how their future would be much of the same, Y/N and him with a couple of kids while the rest of them did their own thing. He couldn’t wait to see all the little faces they’d create together, to get to know all the personalities and raise them into being just as wonderful as their sister and cousins.

“Ugh,” Y/N stopped dead in her tracks then, they were heading towards the butcher’s booth when she turned around, almost green as she reacted to the smell. “Nope, not going down there.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling at her as she tried to not throw up in the middle of the market, people watching her dry heave as she walked away. Spencer knew JJ was pregnant with Michael before she even told Will because she was the exact same way very early on. Living on ginger ale and baby cookies to stay sane, Y/N was going to need that hack.

He didn’t say anything, just profiling her in his mind as he followed her again.

Henry and Michael used the money JJ left them to buy some homemade candies from the market, Y/N picked up some donuts to bring home to her parents, and Amoreena only wanted fresh strawberries. Spencer however snuck away from the group really quickly to get something they passed earlier, something he wanted to get for Amoreena.

There was a vendor with homemade shirts and dresses, knitted hats and all sorts of collectables. If he was going to miss her last morning before kindergarten, he wanted to get her something to wear that morning so he’d be there in spirit.

There was a beautiful handmade purple dress hanging on the wall behind the vendor, the same kind old woman that reminded Amoreena of her GG. “Hello, how can I help you today?”

“We haven’t met, but I’m Amoreena’s father,” he introduced himself with a smile, and the old woman face beamed.

“Yes you are,” she smiled. “She has your nose, it’s lovely to finally meet you!”

“you too, um, I was interested in that purple dress,” he points behind her, “it looks like the one from tangled, I’m sure she’d love it.”

“that’s exactly how she described it when she saw it today,” the woman explains as she takes it down from the wall for him. “It’s $35, but I’ll do $20 for my favourite little friend.”

“That’s very kind, but I don’t mind,” he says, taking $35 dollars out of his wallet and laying it beside the cash box. “Thank you for always making my girl smile.”

“Thank you,” she smiled again, folding the dress nicely and placing it in a white bag, “would you like some tissue paper so she can’t see what it is?”

“That would be great, thank you,” Spencer smiled too, incredibly happy that this was his life now.

She handed him the bag then, stuffed to the brim with purple and pink paper, Amoreena was going to love it. He said his goodbyes and met the rest of his family at the car, hiding the present between his legs in the passenger seat as they drove home.

—

Henry and Michael did end up having to stay the night, switching into their PJs after dinner and joining them all in the living room for a movie night. They let the kids stay up later to watch the whole movie, watching Michael fall asleep once again on the carpet, he had been so well behaved all day it was like he was afraid of Amoreena now.

Michael was perfectly happy sleeping on the couch all night, Henry, on the other hand, slept in Y/N’s old room to have some privacy and so he could sleep in on Sunday.

By the time JJ and Will got home on Sunday night, Y/N and Spencer were just putting some burgers on the grill, they had enough for the whole team and so sure enough, the crew made a short trip from Quantico to Heaven.

Matt called his wife, she drove their handful of children over, Luke of course let Penelope know, the two of them still happily seeing each other now that she wasn’t on the team, it was cute to see them together. Then Penelope, of course, invited Derek and Hank. Emily, Rossi and Tara coming along just to witness Spencer being happy.

It was the best summer party they’ve ever had. Bob and Linda were beyond excited to have so many new faces in their yard, throwing on 2 more packages of burgers, feeding a whole army like normal.

The kids were all running around together in the field, playing with the cats and the goats, rolling down the big hill towards the cows, chasing fireflies as the sunset.

It was all of their last day of school on Monday, a weird day to end on but they were excited nonetheless. Y/N’s father lit up a bonfire in celebration, setting up every lawn chair and log they had to make sure everyone had a seat, they all gathered with marshmallows on sticks and drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

Spencer made a happy life for himself that he was no sharing with them, and they call understood perfectly why he chose this one. It was peaceful, perfect and the most loving environment he’s ever been in. They were beyond proud of him.

“This place is amazing,” Tara leaned towards Spencer, “your family is wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled at her, raising his voice then as he looked at the rest of the team, “I just want to thank all of you actually, you’re all my family and it’s been so surreal introducing you all, I’ve never been happier.”

He was swarmed with hugs then, everyone also using it as their queue to gather their kids and hit the road. They watched everyone get in their cars one by one, Penelope did everything in her power not to leave with at least 3 cats, Matts's kids asked if they could come back, often, with Y/N reminding everyone that the gates are always open.

It was everything he ever wanted.

Amoreena jumped into his arms then, he held her against his side as they both waved at everyone, saying goodbye to all her new aunts and uncles and cousins. Her family kept getting bigger and bigger by the day and she was so incredibly happy about it. She’d take in a million more family members if they let her, her heart didn’t have a capacity level for love.

He carried her up the porch stairs then, bringing her into the kitchen where the white bag with purple tissue paper was waiting for her. Her eyes lit up as she saw it, “is that for me?”

“You bet it is,” he enthused, “I’m not going to be here in the morning, grandma Diana has a doctor's appointment, so I got you something for tomorrow morning.”

He set her down on the floor, handing her the bag and watching her carefully remove all the tissue paper. She laid it on the table softly to keep it for later, saying it was good to make barbie dresses with. When she finally saw the dress her jaw dropped.

Y/N was there too now, watching in awe as he surprised both of them.

“Did you buy this from Candace?” She asks softly as she takes it out of the bag. Holding it to her chest as she twirls around lightly.

“I did, I thought you’d like to have something to remind you of me there, I’m sorry I’m going to miss sending you to the bus on your last day,” he tried not to cry as he crouched down to her level, taking her into his arms and giving her a soft hug.

“That’s okay, you’re always in here,” she took his pointer finger in her hand and poked her own chest with it, “I love you, dad.”

“I love you more, Amoreena,” he smiled through the tears, scrunching his nose so they wouldn’t roll down his cheeks, giving her another hug before Y/N started her bedtime routine.

—

For the past two weeks, his dreams have been filled with lush fields of green draped in the most beautiful golden glow. Both his girls sitting beside him as they read, each of them has a book and it’s silent. It’s serene, the dictionary definition of peace.

However, it took him a while to fall asleep tonight, he was too anxious for Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten in the morning and the fact he wouldn’t be there for the drop-off.

Y/N was sound asleep on the pillow beside him as he stared at her, for what felt like hours, brushing her hair off her face lightly and making sure the blankets were still covering her. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room just enough that he could see her face twitch into a smile as she fell deeper into her slumber.

Seeing her happy relaxed him enough to follow her. Blinking into his dream realm and finding a few new faces waiting for him by the tree…

“Dad!” Another little girl he’s never seen before was running towards him, wrapping herself around him as he held her.

Suddenly, 7 other children he doesn’t know are surrounding him in hugs, tacking him to the ground in a fit of giggles and tickles, “we missed you! Why were you gone for so long?”

He’s so confused, he knows he’s dreaming but he chooses to stay, to wander the world and ask the questions his mind was so obviously trying to answer. “I’m sorry,” is all he can reply, taking Amoreena’s hand and following her towards Y/N as she sat on the picnic blanket.

She was older, which meant he should be too, looking in the pond quickly for his reflection to see’s his wrinkled face, the white in his hair and beard. Their kids had all grown up but where was he for it?

“Welcome home,” she smiled as he sat down. “it’s about time you met the girls.”

“Where was I?”

“You don’t remember?”

He shakes his head, “I was supposed to be here.”

“Amoreena got into Yale, did you hear that, cutie? Elly, Junie and Theo are in high school now, look how beautiful they are…”

He watched his children frolic in the field, running around without a care in the world that he missed everything. Why did he miss everything? How could he miss everything?

“It’s too bad you missed Cordelia and the other twins, can you believe we had 3 sets of twins, Spence?” She laughed like it was funny, “how could you leave me alone with 9 babies?” Still smiling, staring into his soul as he died a little inside.

He started to panic then, breathing heavily as he tried to remember where he was to miss everything, “I was supposed to be there for them!?”

Suddenly he’s ripped awake by Y/N shaking him and pulling him against her skin, “hey, shhh, it’s okay.”

He was crying and shaking in his sleep, sweating as he tried to fight off the dream, his anxiety in full swing for absolutely no reason, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You didn’t go anywhere, Spencer, you’ve been there the whole time,” she reminded him, rubbing her hand over his back as he settled into her arms. “You were mumbling and then yelling.”

“I got to the park and you told me I missed all of them growing up,” he whispered the painful words into the open, freeing them from his mind and letting them exist somewhere else.

“Them?” She coo’s, holding his head against her chest as she rests her cheek against it, holding him as close as humanly possible.

“We had like 9 girls, they were all so beautiful as you and Amoreena, they all had my nose and your lips and the curliest blowing hair in the whole world, and I missed everything, again,”

“I won't let that happen, do you have any handcuffs leftover? Because I can keep you here for good?” She teased him in a hushed whisper, playful and happy to prove that he was fine, they were fine.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he whispered again shimmying down lower to lay his head on her lower stomach, kissing her stomach softly. “I’m not leaving you all, never.”

“I had a bad dream too, that’s what woke me up first,” she replies softly. “Yesterday was the 11th anniversary of Stephen’s death, and the first time I never visited him.”

Spencer felt the need to sit up then, making eye contact with her to see her true feelings. “I don’t want you to stop loving him because you also love me. He’s special to you, you should go see him soon.”

“Spencer,” she smiles at the concern in his voice, “I will, I only didn’t because I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant, I was bleeding a little yesterday and then it stopped, that probably means the implantation worked and I don’t want to tell him yet. And I tell him everything.”

“Everything?” He asks in a way that she hears; “even about me?” inside his thoughts.

She nods softly, “I went on that first Monday after I dropped you off at your apartment, I needed him to know I was finally ready and I thanked him for sending you to me.”

“What was he like?”

“He was from Boston, accent and everything,” she smiled with sad eyes as she recalled him to her mind. “He was in theatre school, I met him in the summer at a music festival in Chicago, he was playing guitar and we had too many beers and I lost my virginity to him in a tent in some field.”

She recalled it like it was a fond memory, missing him but not enough to be sad about it now. “I ran into him again when I went to college in Boston and we were talking outside before the rain hit, like one of those classic movie scenes, and my apartment was closer, the rest is history.”

“Hey Stephen is the one song you always skip, I never wanted to ask why but I don’t think you’ll mind telling me?” He wonders out loud, still a little delirious from the lack of sleep.

“He looked like an angel when I first saw him, he was standing under a street light reading his music sheets and the light was glowing perfectly, it was amazing I wish I had a picture of it. But then the Fearless album came out for the first time and it was my favourite song because it was like she wrote it for us. He was my perfect angel, my superstar, he was going to be on Broadway one day and we were going to move to a cottage in England, we had lots of plans and that song just makes me think of the life me and him must be living in the universe where it all worked out.”

It’s long-winded and she doesn’t seem to be over-emotional by the end, in a shocking turn of event’s it seems like she feels freer after getting it off her chest.

“I haven’t always been this happy and cheerful Spencer,” she adds, “I had a really dark spot after he died, it was horrible for me. I was so angry, I was reckless and mean and hurtful, and in that time I wasted precious moments I could have spent being happy with my grandma, and so my dream tonight was just the fight I had with Evan and my grandma dying and the cops saying Stephen was dead and placing that stupid fucking flower on his coffin thinking it made up for the fact I couldn’t even look at him in there.”

“How you respond to trauma isn’t really up to you, that’s why it’s trauma. Your brain can’t really cope and so it does typically the stuff you’ll regret the most in that time of grief, it’s not your fault and I’m sure everyone understood. You had every right to be mad, hell, I’m mad you lost him because I know how much you hurt in silence for so long,” Spencer can’t help but wish he could have been there for her.

“What happened to you after Maeve died?”

It was only fair that he shared too, “I locked myself in my apartment and didn’t take care of myself, I didn’t talk to anyone, I just sat in my living room and almost died reading every book I had because I didn’t feel like I was worthy of being taken care of so if I starved to death, so be it.”

“You still haven’t told me what happened with her and the kidnapping,” she reminds him of their little chat a few weeks ago at the school. “I get it if you’re not ready, I’m sure it’s a lot.”

“I was getting headaches, really bad ones, and so I reached out to a geneticist to see if she could help me. I sent her my brain scans and some blood tests and she helped me find supplements and natural ways to help my body rest from the stress of my work,” he explained it easily like the feelings didn’t hurt anymore.

“We talked on the phone a lot and I finally asked her why she was so afraid to meet me or have me know anything about her. She had me call her from a payphone, always a different one each time, I was to call and let it ring once, then hang up then she’d call me back. She thought she had a stalker, she was getting weird messages and threats and she felt genuinely unsafe, and she had every right to,”

“10 months went by and we thought she was safe, but her ex-fiancé got a private investigator to find her and in return found me instead. It turns out that Maeve had a student who felt wronged by her and wanted to outdo her, so she dated her fiancé and scared her underground but then she wanted me.”

Y/N’s face is full of concern like she’s listening to a true-crime thriller where she knows the ending won't be good.

“I tried to talk her stalker down, I almost had her and then she kissed me and I keep looking at Maeve, she saw right through me. She threatened to kill Maeve, she had a gun to her head but at the last minute she killed herself, but Maeve’s head was too close to hers,” the words hurt on the way out.

“And someone also had you sent to prison?” She asks, wanting all the trauma in one night to save him the trouble.

“Yeah, she was an assassin, I tricked her into thinking I found her dad and I was so smart she thought I was her soulmate, it was all an elaborate plan to bring me down to her level.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I’ve killed too many people,” he answers with complete honesty once again. “I’ve killed mostly murderers and rapists, I typically don’t have to. I really try not to, but I’ve also killed people to keep myself safe. And I’d probably kill someone to keep you or Amoreena safe too.”

“Get in line,” she laughs, able to make every single conversation easy even when they shouldn’t be.

“I uh,” he wants to tell her more but he doesn’t know-how. “I was also sexually assaulted in prison, and I was kidnapped and drugged in 2007, I OD’d and died but then I was resuscitated, I wasn’t kidding when I said it was a lot.”

“I am so sorry Spencer,” she rests her hands on his cheeks, looking into his eyes as best as she could in the dark, still seeing the goodness in there. “You’re safe here with me, forever and always, I can promise you that.”

“Thank you,” he’s never going to stop thanking her.

Settling down on the bed once more, he cuddles back into her side. She brushes his hair behind his ear softly, humming a soft melody as she soothes him back to sleep. He snuggled right against her, holding her gently as he fell back to sleep on her, dreamless as she was everything he needed.

love you all for all the support thank you x100 <3

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

122 notes · View notes

noa-nightingale · 4 years

Text

Queer Watcher 2020

I am looking back on this weird, not-so-wonderful year - and on the ways @wearewatcher made my 2020 so much more wonderful. Originally, I wanted to list all the highlights I could think of, but one of the things I am most grateful for is Watcher’s inclusion and support of LGBTQ+ folks. I am just one queer person but I know there are many more in this fandom.

So, this ended up being a list of things I, as a queer person, appreciate and enjoy, and I am so so happy that I can write this. Buckle up, I have Things to say, and it is going to be emotional.

Ryan’s Pride shoes. I sometimes wonder how many sales Converse owes him. I love my own pair btw.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is, y’know, hey, uh, love everybody.” - Shane Madej, Gangly Puppet Freak. A PSA from the Weird/Wonderful Shakespeare Theatre vid, regarding bisexuality - he is so awkward with it lmao. Whole video has really great vibes too.

Steve/Stephanos.

Various tweets, including wishing us a happy Non-Binary People’s Day and a happy Trans Awareness week.

Ryan and Shane including their pronouns in their twitter bio. (Little things like this don’t go unnoticed, and they are very appreciated.)

Gay Oars! Ugh, my heart. Their first appearance totally caught me off guard, and I haven’t recovered since. (I also causes me no small amount of joy that the most romantic and tragic song of all time is called “Gore on the Shore”.) I could yell about my love for these guys all day. It is a beautiful thing that these characters exist.

Gay Oars, again - I knew they would show up and I still was not prepared. The song made me cry. I haven’t recovered from that one either. I love the progression from the first, tragic song to the second, joyful and loving song. I have so many emotions about these oars, I probably could make an entire list just for them. (Little fun fact: Even though the song made me cry, my first reaction to that episode was to go on tumblr and yell about it excitedly. Like, I was emotional but in an enthusiastic kind of way. The more difficult emotions hit me about four days later, for some reason. And then I sat in my room and cried my eyes out. Like, as much as I like being queer, sometimes it is just damn hard and the pain seems too much and you have been hurt over and over and don’t know if you can ever recover from it. And it is just really good to know that someone cares about your wellbeing as a queer person. Even if you have never spoken to that someone and he does not even know of your existence. And to be honest, I don’t always know how to deal with that. The kindness? The genuine allyship? I have no idea how to handle that, and it simultaneously heals and breaks my heart.)

Every time the words “his boyfriend” were uttered; I am especially thinking of Are You Scared here.

All the fan art Watcher inspired and continues to encourage and to support. There are many great artists in the fandom! And Watcher’s content inspires me to draw and create more myself! How wonderful!

Toxic masculinity who? It is nowhere to be found.

This... special kind of gentle and kind weirdness? It honestly had such a positive impact on me and the way I interact with other people and let them interact with me.

All of the wonderful people Watcher brought in. I am sure they will work with more amazing folks and I am really looking forward to that. Personally, I am hoping to see Eugene Lee Yang at some point. (Would be really happy to see Thomas Sanders too.)

Here’s What You Do. Just the whole podcast. It was such a delight.

I was hesitant to include this because I believe many of us have negative memories attached to it, and it was not a fun time for anyone (including the lovely people at Watcher themselves). But, yes, I am mentioning it: That one HWYD episode and the follow-up. I can only speak for myself, but the follow-up has an incredibly special place in my heart. To me, it is one of the most important videos Watcher has created. I watched it several times, I journaled about it extensively and it made me a better ally. Hell, I even showed it to my mother and one of my siblings (like, the entire video). I know it was a difficult thing to talk about but at this point: A HUGE thank you to Steven, Ryan, Katie and Shane for handling this in an absolutely fantastic way. I feel welcome and seen and appreciated, and in the end all I want is this: For people to genuinely give a shit about me as a queer person.

On a more lighthearted note, I enjoy it way too much that Ryan is able to say “LGBTQ” without stumbling over the letters. It seems like such a tiny thing but it brings me an unholy amount of joy.

The Professor. I don’t want to call him LGBTQ+ because that has not been confirmed as canon but he IS comfortable wearing clothes that are typically seen as “women’s clothing”, and as a trans/non-binary person I am kind of obligated to mention it.

I think I had an out of body experience when Ryan said “Oh thank you baby” to Steven in Too Many Spirits. Then I had to pause the episode to finish laughing. And then they brought it back in the next episode. Bless them.

Every time they/them pronouns were said.

The entire Hatshepsut PH episode. What can I say, I like it when gender norms/expectations/roles are broken. And even if we can’t call Hatshepsut trans by today’s standards, declaring yourself another gender has such power.

Without giving too many details: I had my struggles and problems in the past with Christianity and ~certain~ Christian people, and it is really good (and I mean REALLY good) to see someone whose faith and integrity are so interwoven and who is inspired by his faith to do good things and to do right by people. I obviously only know the things about his belief that Steven decides to put on the internet but what I’ve seen is almost healing to me, in a way. I am very grateful and happy that he is willing to educate others and to keep working on himself. Warms my heart.

The certainty with which these beautiful people call themselves allies.

Just... the general kindness and compassion, and the willingness to listen and to grow. I promise you, we notice and we love you for it.

I could have expanded on all of these points but I tried to keep this short.

And look. I don’t want to put anyone on a pedestal; that would not be fair. I am just immensely grateful for kind people who genuinely care and who genuinely try to do right by others and to bring joy to others.

And I know we like to have fun here but Watcher’s content is just a lot more than entertaining, meme-able fun (although it is that too, of course).

I had a blast with it this year and I am very much looking forward to the next year. I feel like I can’t adequately put into words the myriad of little (and not so little) ways these people have made my life better this year. Thank you from the bottom of my aroace, non-binary heart.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej

168 notes · View notes

shhhlikeme · 4 years

Text

F*cked Out 💤

Ojiro Aran Domestic Smut (NSFW) part 2

A/N: I wrote this as a Part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone!

18+, Explicit smut, praise kink, Aged up obvs, Timeskip spoilers

Tagging: @saitamastamaticsoup & @chunhua-s b/c these Aran stans found part 1 last night & their comments made me thirsty enough to write a pt. 2. Hope you like it!

also my lovely @qyuanon who I just read is back and I missed her💛

Futilely, you knocked on the door to yours and your man’s home office. Leaning on the frame, you crossed your arms. Being a literal isolationist when you had to work, you never understood why your man liked keeping the office door open. But then he told you once that he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t hear you calling him if the door was closed. ‘What if something happened and I didn’t run to you?’ He had explained, pouting when you laughed at him. It warmed your heart, but you decided not to call his name tonight, instead opting to physically pay him a visit. You had to, because what lead you here in the first place was serious! You had just woken up in the middle of the night because his side of the bed had turned cold. Yeah, that deserved nothing less than a visit from you!

From your spot in the doorway you could see Ojiro sitting at the grand desk, his back turned to you, the lights from his laptop playing some Team Canada highlights. The screen bluelight shone brightly on his gorgeous dark skin, the back of his head bobbed up and down as he dutifully wrote down any important plays he was seeing so that he could tell his coach tomorrow.

“Babe,” You announced your presence with a soft smile. Your man is such a hard worker and he really doesn’t get enough credit for it. You tighten the robe you were wearing because it was always kind of drafty on this side of the house. “You have a game tomorrow.”

Your boyfriend, captain of the Japanese National Volleyball Team’s shoulders slumped when he heard you, but he didn’t turn around.

He didn’t have to.

He never had to. Even though you’ve only been dating for a bit over a year, you two knew each other so well that you could accurately tell exactly what kind of expressions, feelings, and thoughts permeated the other without having to be vis-a-vis. When you first met, your dates were—objectively speaking—oddly silent for the most part. The waitress once asked you if you were uncomfortable through an inconspicuous napkin note, which was kind of her—but the truth was that on that date you were actually more than Okay! It might have seemed odd to an outsider or eavesdropper that no sentences were being finished, and both people on said date were constantly staring down, away, or into each others eyes in silence… but realistically, neither of them could grasp the fact that words weren’t necessary when there existed a connection like yours and Aran’s.

‘It’s fate. He’s the one.’ You had told your friends after the second date when you realized your mind reading wasn’t a fluke. Because as corny as it sounded then and even now in your memory; it was true, tf.

Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to kick his ass for letting his side of the bed go cold, though. You were used to Aran being gone for volleyball so you had no problem falling asleep alone, but when you were ecstatic to have him home it was important for him to REMAIN home, which means staying in bed if you fell asleep on his chest! He has never done it before, so This is not Okay!

“I know, baby, I know…” your boyfriend calls to you, scribbling on his notepad faster. “I’m almost done. I-I think their setter could be doing one of two plays to start tomorrow, and I don’t think it’s the one I was sure about before we went to bed. And I mean, we play them until 12pm, so—“

“So nothing. You still have to be up by 6. The stadium is far and knowing you, you won’t sleep on the Team’s bus, you’ll still be watching these videos even then. I’ll—“

“Please don’t tell Iwaizumi-san, he will kick my ass! We’re playing Team Canada tomorrow and they are ranked just under us but—“

“Not by a lot, I know. I understand, but you guys will still pull the win. I know it....because Your team has you.”

Aran chuckled heartily, continuing to scribble with his back still turned, but his voice turned a little more endearing. “Thank you, baby. But.... I can’t seem to sleep tonight... I just can’t. I’ve been up this whole time so I—” As your boyfriend babbled on, you quietly interjected,

“I know a way to get you to sleep.”

“—won’t use my laptop in bed and wake you up when you’re sleeping so….wait….what did you—?”

You smirked, knowing that your man knew why your voice had dropped a few octaves. He knew you were up to something, not because you two could practically read each other’s minds—moreso because you two had already established that that specific tone of voice of yours made his dick hard. The pen he was scribbling with stopped moving, finally, and you could just picture the way he gulped just now.

“I know you can’t sleep, Ar…..” You made sure he could hear you clearly now, in the voice you only reserved for fuck-me-o’clock.

A sexy smirk that Ojiro could see without looking at you played in his mind and on your face simultaneously.

“Yeah?” He asked, his deep voice cracking.

You kept speaking in that voice with one goal in mind.

“Yes, baby…” You hummed thoughtfully before stating,

“So why don’t you come over here and fuck me so hard it puts you to bed, then?”

Drunk off horniness caused by the amount sex dripping from your voice, the captain of Japan’s National Volleyball Team slowly turned the office chair so that he was facing you.

Boldly, you turned your back to him at the same time and fiddled your hands that just tightened your robe. This time, instead of tightening it, you loosened the strings fully so your robe was wide open, facing the emptiness of your house. Knowing that your boyfriend was checking out and admiring your ass in that short silk robe and desiring the shock factor—in one motion you tossed the robe over your shoulders so that it pooled at your feet, exposing your completely nude back and backside to your man.

“🤤 Shit,” Ojiro groaned, sounding as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. You just knew your man was biting that full and juicy bottom lip of his.

Swaying your hips to give your man a tiny show, you sauntered precisely where he didn’t want you to: away from him; heading towards the master bedroom.

You kept yourself from giggling when you heard the aggressive shutting of a laptop, a volleyball announcer being cut off, and a certain volleyball player’s stumbling and cursing because Ojiro was practically chasing you out of the office.

***

“Mmmm…. Fuck..”

A few minutes later, your mind displayed a valiant effort by attempting to guess how your boyfriend looked right now, but it would be in vain. You couldn’t picture your man like you usually could because you were currently being fucked way too fucking well. Ojiro was filling you completely with just half his length, whispering horny-nothings to help you understand his feelings anyway:

“God damn, Y/N… Every. Time. Feels. So. God. Damn. Good,”

Now, If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s face was scrunched up in pleasure right now, a coat of sweat coating his nude dark skin, the skylight over his head allowing the moon to reflect an insanely sexy glow sheen over his muscles due to the perspiration.

“Auuh there’s nothing better than this, baby…”

If your mind was clear you’d be able to perfectly visualize how Ojiro’s head was tilted backwards right now, his mouth slightly ajar as he focused on not cumming inside you within the first few minutes of this because he needed to feel you cum around him first. As always.

“Not when I hitting a line shot, not when I get a service ace.... nothing feels—auuuh f-uck— better than your pussy, baby girl..…”

If your mind was clear, you’d be able to see Ojiro on his knees behind you, holding your hips in his giant hands while he drove into you from behind, inserting only half his cock in and out like a pro, then surprising you with a fully thrust every now and then when he sheathed all 10 inches inside your heat.

“Mmm, so ti-ight, always so wet… damn,”

Despite your mind being clouded by immense pleasure, however—you did know that you looked absolutely wrecked with your face pressed in the pillow, blindly reaching behind you to tap or wave or pinch or do something to him since you couldn’t speak. You could barely made any sounds other than choked out moans because it felt so spectacular… but you didn’t have to! Aran knew that you wanted your boyfriend to stop playing and give you full strokes. His half thrusts filled and pleasured you more than any one ever could because he was huge and skilled in bed, he knew just how your insides liked to be stroked, but that didn’t stop you from silently pleading to him..

Even if Ojiro wasn’t holding back like always because he was very aware of his size and girth, even if you both knew that it would hurt you the next day like after a good workout, even if you walked funny when you had to attended his Olympic game several hours from now—you fucking needed it.

HE fucking needed it!

“Harder, Ar,” You commanded, “Deeper!”

“Fuck,” Your boyfriend panted, still not giving you what you asked 7 amazing strokes later.

“Harder, now!” You cried as if you were whispering to the fucking pillow. You hadn’t the strength to lift your head. Your orgasm was fast approaching because HALF your man’s dick was too good and there was no way you weren’t bringing him with you. “Deeper, baby!”

“Y-you su-sure?” He asked worriedly. He always did this shit 🙄. He always worried way too much about your body soreness and way too little about both of your impending orgasms tonight rocking your motherfucking worlds.

Ugh!

Good boyfriends and their fucked up PRIORITIES, amirite?!

Needless to say, you didn’t have time for compassionate Aran tonight. You needed him to fuck the both of you to sleep the way you knew he was capable of if he stopped holding back. Besides, he should have been in bed hours ago. You had to do this for the sake of the National Team! You had to this for JAPAN! (A/N: lucky b*tch shut your horny ass up)

So that’s why, in response to his asking if you were sure or not, you responded by clenching your insides so that your slick hole squeezed around your boyfriend’s cock.

As soon as he felt you pulsing impossibly tighter around him as he fucked you halfway, his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck…” He moaned deeply, so of course you continued doing it.

“Shit, Y/N, Okay, Okay,”

Without having to beg for mercy, your man did as you asked him to. He moved his hands from your waist to splay them on each of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to make more room for his member that already barely fit (with your hasty prep and not his tentative one), but especially when your pussy clenched around him like that. With a loud moan from both of you, he bottomed out and stayed there for a bit to get you used to the size. You almost passed out by how good it felt pressing against your g-spot.

When Aran couldn’t take it anymore, and he started giving it to you: hard, fast, and deep.

“Ye, baby, make room for me just like this…..” He moaned, gripping your ass tighter. “You want all of me? You think your tight hole can handle all of me?” He asked, no growled, still giving shallow but gratifying thrusts.

You whimpered, knowing that Ojiro knew the answer to that. Even so, you egged him on, “Sh-Show me why you’re the best top,” playing into your dirty talk from the last time y’all had sex like this but he was under you.

Your boyfriend let out a long groan in his smooth deep voice and picked up his pace in reaponse, sending a new wave of wetness to your private. You were so soaked down there that it sounded like y’all were having sex in the bath tub, fuck.

Your man loved it.

“Mmmm, —m’ close beautiful,” He called, snapping his hips forward to meet you g-spot again and again. “It’s you, baby, it’s you,” Your man groaned. “Your pussy feels too fucking good……. I’d never pull out if I had to co-couldd,”

“Oh, God. Aran!" You moaned loudly due to his dirty talk and praise, teetering on the edge of your release. Knowing that you maybe had 30 seconds left if you focused, you must have decided that you didn’t want to walk tomorrow at all because being the weakness of your bf you are, from your position being pounded into the sheets, you propped yourself up on your weak arms so that you could use the fact that your elbows were digging into the mattress as leverage to push your body back so that you met Aran’s deep thrusts.

Like your boyfriends does every rare time he’s able to see your glorious ass bounce on his hard dick, his eyes flew open and he felt as though he’d been transported to heaven itself.

“Y/N—auh, s-so sexy, aah, ooh, ohhh, fuck, Y/N,”

entranced, Aran couldn’t even last another second before he was stopping your movements with his hands, sliding them back on your hips to hold you still as his orgasm took his muscular frame by storm. He saw stars.

Of course, his orgasm triggered yours immediately, and you cried your man’s name as you came on his dick. He whispered yours as your insides milked him without influence this time, effectively lengthening your man’s finish. Panting, Aran just barely caught himself before his now exhausted body toppled over you.

His last wakeful act, being the gentleman that he is, was to roll over so he wouldn’t crush you with his body weight, pulling out at the same time.

You wondered if he registered that he said, “thank you baby,” before he began softly snoring—a sign that he was completely worn out and sleeping.

You smiled softly to yourself when you heard his snores, finally turning when you caught your own breath, to fully see your boyfriend’s stunning face. You endearingly brushed his goatee with the tips of your fingers, turning his sleeping face to yours so you could peck his lips. Then, you just barely had the leg strength to stand up on limbs that barely worked, removing his condom for him, then using the furniture in your room to support you as you cleaned the two of you up. You almost fell asleep standing up as you used a cloth on the two of you. Five minutes later, you were back in bed, under the covers with your lover and amazing man.

Usually, Ojiro Aran slept like the dead (when he first moved in you occasionally have to check if he was still breathing...) , but you knew now that if he snored, that was a sign that he was so fatigued. You knew about the snoring, but the talking was new to you. Ojiro was so deep in his sleep after that round, that he was talking to himself in his slumber, whispering sweet-nothings about you that you’d never let him know he vocalized to spare him the embarrassment.

Besides, he didn’t say anything too embarrassing.... and you knocked out as soon as your head met his chest, not even feeling his arm sweetly wrap around your waist to pull you closer. So, you didn’t even hear most of his sleep-talk.

And maybe you were right when you called it fate, that drove the two of you.... because if it wasn’t fate that had you place your head on Aran’s chest at that exact moment, if it wasn’t fate that made you fall asleep at that exact moment..... then, I mean, you would have heard Ojiro not a second later declare aloud that he’s hiding your engagement ring in the office’s cabinet drawer. You would have heard theis the real reason he wasn’t able to fall asleep: because he was so nervous about asking for your hand in marriage before his Japan vs. Canada game tomorrow, when you least expected it.

Cause like, well, that totally would have ruined the surprise.

But you did fall asleep. Fate did that. So him sleep talking honestly never really happened.

And you know what else never happened?

You never had to feel the cold side of the bed again where your man should be, at least not that night, because Aran Ojiro your new fiancée’s body kept it warm all night, because you were great and helping him fall asleep like a baby....making him just that:

f*cked out.

#ojiro aran #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu aran #hq imagines #haikyuu!!#hq headcanon #haikyuu headcannons #inarizaki

178 notes · View notes

amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

Babysitter (pt 9)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: A Loki interlude.

Characters: Hela, Loki

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation.

He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken.

A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock.

Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees.

Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance.

Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely.

With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog.

He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth.

Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.

Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground.

He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings.

An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.

A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder.

“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst.

“I’m not- fuck.”

He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut.

“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”

“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.

“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”

“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”

“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.

“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”

“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”

“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”

“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.

“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”

The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.

“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”

“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”

“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”

“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.

“They’re mean!”

“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.

“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”

“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”

“Me too!”

“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.

“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”

“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”

“But they’re mean to you?”

“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”

A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered.

Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.

It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.

He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately.

“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled.

“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Hela grumbled.

“Have you eaten?”

“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”

“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Glad to see you too, sister.”

Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it.

“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked.

“Beats me.”

“Did you kill her?”

Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”

“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”

Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”

Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”

“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...”

Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”

“Who?”

“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”

She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.

“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”

Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.

“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him.

Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.

“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”

Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”

“Be silent,” she hissed.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”

Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss.

“Tell me.”

And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.

“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days.

“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”

“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”

Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.

“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”

“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled.

“Fair enough.”

“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”

“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”

“And what is your current priority?”

“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak.

“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.

“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”

“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”

“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again.

“Shut it.”

A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!

taglist: @midnight-lestrange @cheerfullyvenomous @germansarechill@gaylorrds @amii-nyc @waitingfortheendtocome @novakitten0901@marvels-writings

#hela #hela x reader #hela/reader #hela x you #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok fanfiction #loki #loki odinsin #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #cate blanchett #tom hiddleston #best siblings amirite #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

143 notes · View notes