#the virgin ‘i wish we had normal peaceful lives that we could live instead even if realistically we can never have that’ sam & dean vs the

[quietwingsinthesky]

millie’s natural state is covered in blood (<- may or may not be her own) and shaking like a feral dog. because she’s normal.

[sukirichi]

true gift

A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.

REQUEST.  deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink

CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood,  murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist 

NOTES. ah...it feels so natural to write naoya...also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3

Today is the day – the one you’ve been prepared for ever since you’ve forced to make acquaintance with the blinding darkness and smell of rust.

What time is it? Is it morning, night...maybe somewhere in the middle?

There’s no telling, not when you’ve been staring at the pitch black darkness for what seems like forever. It’s been too long, so long, that you’ve forgotten what the world looks like. It’s like one day you’re helping your family tend to the farms when rough hands grabbed at you, and you’re shoved in a cold, dark cellar before you could even say good bye.

Oddly enough, the servants – or at least that’s what you assume they are, since they’ve been nothing but tight lipped and inherently obedient to a faceless figure – have taken extreme care of you.

Twice a day, they’d open the cellar, the sound of keys rustling and nearly muted footsteps like music into your ears. The slight sliver of light passing through from the outside is immediately concealed within a split second, a black smooth material wrapped around your eyes before they strip you off. Normally, you’d complain and fight back, but you’ve lost all the will to even defend yourself at this point.

You’ve given up a long time ago, and life’s been a lot more tolerable ever since.

Today isn’t any different. Maybe it was hours ago, two servants had came in to wash away the grime and dirt from your body before you felt something combing through your hair. Then, you felt it. A smooth, cold blade running up and down every inch of your body, rendering you immobile in fear even breathing could cut you open.

It didn’t. If anything, you felt a lot smoother, lighter, and freer.

“Is she bare?” an old, croaky feminine voice echoed in the small room, equally wrinkled hands removing the strap of your bra off before she lathers a rose-scented cream all over your body. “Naoya-sama prefers his slaves hair-free, you know that. Not even stubble is allowed, do you understand? Keep shaving her until she’s spotless.”

Naoya-sama.

So that’s where you were. It all made sense now.

For as long as you could remember, that name’s been spoken with terror, the slight tremble of voices and darkened eyes pooled with fear never absent in the presence of his name. You’ve never seen him, but you know enough to understand that he’s a prominent figure especially in your little village. He’s not human, but he’s not exactly a god either – at least, not one that people would willingly worship.

You’ve heard telltales on how his beauty alone had women dropping to their feet, the malice in those eyes of his enough to make even the strongest warriors stick to his side in fear of what he’s capable of.

He’s as old as time and as strong as the steady flow of the river you and your people have always bathed in. It doesn’t make sense that someone as fearsome as he was is living at the mountains where nothing but quiet, peaceful people rejoiced, but the more you think about it, of course he’d prefer his people submissive, heads always ducked in fear and shaking in terror.

This whole time, you thought you’d been sold off to a neighbouring clan head because your clan didn’t have enough funds to pay for the latest trade.

In a way, you’d feel a lot luckier if the former had happened instead, because there’s really no proper way of making sound of the fact you’re sacrificed to your own deity, Naoya Zen’in, after not completing your offerings to him for ten whole moons.

It’s bad, horribly so, and you should be shaking, should be crying, should be wishing for death instead, so then why are you deferential? You don’t complain when two rough hands pull you from the ground and keep your arms tight in shackles at your lower back, vision still obscured by this cloth as you’re guided somewhere – someplace that all the sacrificed women for your deity are received.

Your feet are sloppy and smacking against the hardwood floor, heart pulsing in your tongue for all the wrong reasons. Faintly, you can smell a rose-scented candle and water splashing, but it doesn’t register until you’re immersed under it.

You gasp, hair flattening onto your skin while you look around blindly, struggling to clutch onto something as your feet keep slipping into the tub.

You’ve never been into a tub before; much less recognize the soft, paper-like objects floating into the water with you. Head swaying side to side until water is sprayed everywhere, a firm hand keeps your head in place just as a pumice stone is scrubbed into your skin. It’s not painful, but the rough scraping sensation feels sensitive from your skin that hasn’t been exposed to normal, breathing air for who knows how long.

“Stop moving,” that same elderly voice commanded, and her assistants, most likely, move quickly into extending your limbs until you’re sprawled out everywhere. “We are to make you perfect, presentable, lavishing in front of our deity himself.”

“B-but —”

“You have no right to speak!” You’re left stunned as your cheek bruises red, lips wet from the water as you pant. The sting on your skin becomes more pronounced, but you dare not speak, opting to keep your lips shut instead. The elderly woman takes notice of your behaviour, humming before she makes you stand up, that same blade swiping down your exposed regions. “You learn fast and submit well. I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.”

“She is gorgeous too, my Lady.”

“She should be,” comes a retort, your jaw clenched as you keep still. She forces your legs further apart until you’re embarrassingly exposed, the rose petals in the water sticking into some corners of your skin. “If she was not, she’d be dead already. It’s her pretty face that’s keeping her alive at this point.”

Everything is a blur after that.

One moment, they’re shaving you, the next you’re thrown from one body to another. They perform all sorts of things – towel drying your hair, exfoliating your skin, plucking your eyebrows to perfection before applying a shimmer to your cheeks and something sticky and glossy to your lips, then finally you feel the warmth of silk robes you could never afford even if you work yourself to death caressing your body.

After that, you’re locked inside a much bigger room, the blindfold falling off your face slowly.

You blink in surprise.

The room isn’t that dark, but dim enough, and your heart beats louder in your chest when you see the size of the room. It’s ten times bigger than your village meeting point, a large tatami bed sat in the middle. From one side, a window is open, allowing you to see the white illumination of the moonlight that looks hauntingly romantic.

Candles are lit on either sides of the room, and your gaze lands on odd whip-like weapons placed proudly on the walls.

Your legs are wobbly as you stand, life just coming back into your unused muscles. Making your way towards it, you reach out to touch this...weapon that’s still somewhat coated with the stench of blood. It’s immaculately clean and the leather is shiny, though it’s clear this has been used for far more gruesome situations before.

I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.

You recoil your hand that’s a breath away from coming into contact with it, terror plaguing deep into your bones as you take a step back.

You’re a sacrifice, an offering, sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice – you’re brought here to die, and your god would kill you himself. Others may have considered it an honour to have died from the mercy of his hands, your oh-so divine lord who’s brought prosperity and wealth into your land, but you turn away, breathing hard as you make a break for the door.

But you never made it.

Your back lands into someone’s chest, a slight gasp falling from your lips before you’re pummelled into the ground, strong hands pinning your arms above your head. Eyes widening, you come face to face with your deity, his fox-eyes lined with dark kohl sharpening his already predatory features, ears pierced with tiny skulls and black dots.

His knee nudges your leg open and you groan, the sound making his eyes dart at you in warning before he smirks upon seeing you make no move to get away from him.

“As I’ve heard,” his deep voice cuts through the eerie silence of the room, the night so mute not even birds or insects cricketed at the presence of your deity’s need to have you for himself. “You are a compliant little lamb sent to the slaughter,” you shiver as his fingers run to caress the side of your face, his free hand undoing the knots that keeps your modesty. Naoya hums deep in his throat when the cloth falls to the sides, revealing perky nipples that pushed closer and closer to his awaiting lips at each heavy breath you took.

“You are stunning,” he praises, using a thumb to graze over the hardened bud. It’s barely a touch, but you’re sensitive, wholly new to this that you whimper. The sound is humiliating and utterly pathetic, your teeth coming down to capture your lips.

This displeases him entirely and Naoya taps your lips open, glaring at your wide, fearful yet aroused gaze. “You do not ever conceal such shameful sounds when I’m above you, do you understand?” You nod shakily, freeing your lip from its confines. Naoya snickers, chest puffing up with pleasure before he leans back to his calves, pushing the rest of your robe to the side until you’re completely exposed to him.

Your breathing grows more laboured when Naoya spreads your legs open, smirking as you whimper at the stretch of having your knees flattened by your sides. Legs placed on top of his knees, your elevated posture gives him more access to your bare pussy, his gaze zeroing in on the gleaming arousal that’s beginning to form on your lips.

“So fucking wet,” he comments, using both his thumbs to pry your pussy apart. You moan at the sensation of him pressing down on a part of you that you don’t know existed, and Naoya laughs, the sound sinister yet erotic. “You’re a virgin.”

It’s not a question – it’s a statement he takes pride in, especially because he knows he’s the chosen one to take something precious away from you.

“I’ve always loved virgins,” Naoya’s hands roam all across your body, slowly, sensually, passionately, the rough, calloused hands running under your legs to hitch them up behind his broad back, to cup your soft ass before he cups your pussy, groaning into your neck when he feels you leak and he’s barely touching you to begin with. It makes his ego swell when your hands wrap around his neck; he hates being touched by mere, lowly mortals like you, but you are undeniably gorgeous and so wanting of him that he allows you just this once. “Always so sensitive – do you want to be good for your deity? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” you cry out, eyes snapping shut when he suddenly inserts a finger in.

The feeling is foreign yet not totally unwelcomed, but you grimace anyway at the slight sting his digits bring. Naoya pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy to coax your arousal to drip further into the sheets like a waterfall, your nails digging into his robes while he watches you with a smirk. He laughs when your eyes widen at the second finger pushing in, thumb rubbing over your clit until your legs tremble around him.

“Virgins are always so gorgeous once they finally learn of pleasure,” he scoffs to himself.

You look at him straight in the eye, mouth falling open while small gasps fall through at the speed he’s pushing into you at.

Something begins to form in your lower bally until your body grows utterly warm, something...something close about to snap when he pulls his fingers out of you, throwing his head back in laughter when you cry for the first time that night.

Naoya stares at the way your gaze darts from his cum-soaked fingers back to your drenched core, brows raised cockily before he stands up, his figure looming over you. “What? Got something to say?” you only whimper in response, closing your legs as you try to provide answers to the brooding confusion punching at the back of your skull.

The sound of faint rustling brings you back to life, your eyes snapping to witness your god undressing himself, the robes falling from his shoulders too wonderfully that the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing.

Fat cock standing tall and proud, tip red and glistening with pre-cum and a body carved by fellow gods himself, the rumours were right.

He is beautiful, and it’s no lie that his slaves aren’t really slaves to begin with, not when all of them have been so eager to please him, just to have a taste of this divine being that stands before you. Naoya easily reads your face; from the slightly parted lips, thighs rubbing together and hands looming dangerously to your core – you look so needy it’s actually fucking pathetic.

He’s slow in his movements, languid and taking his time because he’s got time and more in this world that he never cares about wasting something he has a plethora of.

Naoya makes himself at home above you again, basking in the way you’re struggling to breathe even without his hands on you. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, clenching his jaw when you open your mouth submissively, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you take your juices into your mouth.

You’re a natural at this, he observes, tongue expertly swirling around his digits until you’ve licked it clean. Naoya pats your cheek affectionately, his own way of applauding you for your work.

Under him, you grow shy and abashed, arms covering your bare breasts because he’s a god, why should he be pleased with you?

Naoya doesn’t give you enough time to think before he’s hauling you upwards, your shoulders shoved back onto the ground. You kneel below him in prayer and he tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at him, or rather his cock that’s slipping past your lips. You gag when he pushes his length all the way inside, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.

Naoya sighs at finally being taken in – you should be grateful he even fingered you – his hands guiding your head to bob up and down him.

You do well at pleasing him even through the tears, clutching at his thighs while you suck in his length and swirl your tongue around the prominent veins. Naoya watches with hooded eyes as your cheeks hollow just to take his whole length in – and again, you’re a natural – so eager to please him too when you keep pushing and pushing, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

His muscles ripple above you while he lets out a long, drawn out groan, nails scratching your scalp. You feel him twitch inside you and that’s when he takes over, snapping his hips ruthlessly until you’re left gagging and sucking his cock helplessly.

Your saliva is dribbling at the edges of your mouth, looking so fucked out and whore-like while he pushes himself to the edge. He doesn’t care that you’re choking and your eyes are zooming out of focus from not being able to breathe. He doesn’t care that you could die from asphyxiation, he doesn’t care because you’re his sacrifice – if you can’t even do this simple thing, then how else could you prove you’re worthy to live?

You know this too because you force yourself to breathe through your nose instead, wanting to show that you are worthy, that you can please and take him however he pleases you to.

Naoya isn’t stupid, he can see what you’re doing and can read your mind even in his lust-driven state. Nothing edges him more than a good, submissive whore. Now that he knows you’re willing to do anything without complaints, Naoya pulls his cock out just seconds away from orgasm, pushing you back into the mat with a grunt.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he hisses and pushes both your legs to the side, your body bent and pussy left open for him.

Naoya groans as he slides himself inside you. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but your virgin cunt is still too tight and new to this that you scream around him, subconsciously clenching around him harder.

“You’d do anything for me, yeah?” he challenges, cupping your face while he rams into you hard, uncaring that your walls are beyond abused and a ring of blood is already coating his cock. This isn’t the first time he’s taken someone’s purity, but this is the first time he’s had someone look gratified that he’s hurting them, fuelling him to fuck harder into you despite the steady stream of tears down your face. “Look at you – so obedient,” he pinches your nipples and rolls them between fingers, growling at the way your pained moan sounds more like an encouragement for him to go harder. “You want to please me so bad you don’t care I’m hurting you? Are you so eager to worship me that you won’t even stop me?”

“N-no, my lord,” you manage through the pain, regulating your breathing as you completely break down in tears. Naoya is hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your insides feel like they’re about to burst, and he takes note of this, pinching your clit just to get you to clamp down on him. “Please – use me however you want – please.”

Naoya smirks, pressing your knees flat on the ground before he hovers above you, forearms planted beside your head. At any other given moment, he prefers to fuck his sacrifices with their face planted on the ground because he can’t bear to see how disgusting they are, but you – you’re so damn beautiful it puts his fellow gods to shame.

Now yours is a face he’d like to keep looking at, so he roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them with his fingers, kissing your puckered lips and nipping at them.

You taste heavenly too; his servants did a good job of choosing honey as a gloss. Naoya greedily licks your lips until he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth the same way his dick is ramming inside your walls, tight, puffy lips wrapped happily around his base.

You’re moaning inside his mouth as he squeezes your breast painfully. Never in your whole life have you thought that pain would feel so good, enticing you to moan louder when the sting finally subsides, replaced with the mind-numbing sensation of his thick length rubbing against every ridge of your walls. Naoya pulls his face away from you, his cum and your saliva sticky on your face and he chuckles, the sound stuttered and breathy, brows drawn together.

He looks down to watch the way you accommodate him; this is by far the tightest and wettest cunt he’s ever fucked – ever will fuck – that he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with any random whore’s pussy anymore.

Naoya frowns as anger bubbles up inside him, hatred making his cock swell inside you because how dare you make him wish he won’t take anyone again.

He wants more – want to kill more people, want to fuck more virgins, want to have more blood showering his skin until he’s bathed in glory and gore, but even though you’re the one he’s destroying, he’s slipping on the edge, too lost and hypnotized at the way your tight walls suck him in. Your moans don’t help either; they’re breathy and whiny, so defeated yet so eager to have more that Naoya grips your hips tight enough he might’ve cracked a femur from his godly strength.

Your scream this time is that of pain and loss, grappling on the sheets while white bursts through your eyes. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you overwhelmingly and you fall limp to the sheets, your translucent cum soaking his cock along with the previous blood, but Naoya doesn’t stop.

He keeps slamming into you until you’re mute from oversensitivity, hands cold with sweat and eyes empty while he uses you as his own fuck toy.

He gets there eventually, the room painted with his groans followed by a feral snarl, the rhythm of his thrusts turning sloppy and unbalanced. Naoya stills inside you after burying himself to the hilt, his crotch angrily rubbing at your pelvic bone as he cums. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed spilling inside you in thick spurts. Naoya pulls out with a slight wince, scoffing at the mess you’ve made on his precious dick, but he’s forced to soften a little when he sees both your cum spilling out your hole in a messy puddle, the liquid coating your ass.

Meek as always, you don’t move a muscle when Naoya spreads your legs open, inching his face close enough to watch the way your pussy stutters and legs tremble in front of him.

You’re absolutely ruined – the puffy lips spread out and hole still pushing out the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t bother pushing them back in, uncaring if he’ll get you pregnant or not because it’s not like matters to him. You are nothing but another body to fuck and dispose of under the river once he’s satisfied with you, but he surprises both you and him when Naoya suddenly pushes two fingers inside of you, his eyes dark as he insists on keeping his seed right where they should be nurtured.

Now that he’s sure that will make your belly grow and provide him with a half-mortal heir, Naoya retrieves his robes and walks out the room, the slamming of the door shut similar to an impending doom of an imminent death.

But not yours.

You’ve fulfilled your duty as the death curse bearer of your clan; the greatest and most formidable weapon they’ve been carving to perfection the moment you’re born. The cracks in your bones and bruises on your body immediately heal as you turn to your side, chanting under your breath a hushed whisper of the words of your ancestors who’ve perfectly planned the death of the Zen’in God who’s made his people suffer for thousands of years.

They would be proud of you.

And as a body crashes outside the door followed by the frantic screams of his confused servants, you smile to yourself, falling into a deep sleep upon using your true gift.

[makoodlesarchive]

bad dragon

here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway

honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference      OR     check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!

Tip Jar!

  dragon dick kiri masterlist!

                            »»————-　♡　————-««

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.

The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.

You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.

And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him. 

At least, that was until one afternoon.

April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.

Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”

Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.

You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.

A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”

You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”

Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”

“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”

“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.

“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed?  Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?

Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”

“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.

You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh. 

God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?

You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.

When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.

“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”

Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.

You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”

“Bakugou said you were upset.”

That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”

“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”

“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”

“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”

“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”

Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”

“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”

Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”

When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”

“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”

“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”

“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”

A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”

You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”

You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”

Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”

“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”

“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”

Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”

The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss. 

He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”

“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.

“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”

“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”

Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.

You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”

He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”

Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.

“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.

You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”

The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”

“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.

You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.

When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on. 

“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.

You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.

“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.

How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.

Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.

You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.

Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”

When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.

You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”

Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”

“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.

He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”

“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.

Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”

“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.

As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.

_________________________

Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.

Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”

“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.

No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.

He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.

He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.

High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them. 

When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go. 

You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.

Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.

He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”

You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.” 

Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”

“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.

“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”

You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”

“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”

His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.

“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.

You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”

Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”

“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”

You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”

Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.

“Unless you’d like to wait?”

“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”

It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.

His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”

Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants. 

You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.

He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit. 

You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.

When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”

“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”

Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.

As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”

Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”

Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.

The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in. 

Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”

“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”

The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.

“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”

His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him. 

Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.

His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”

“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”

Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly. 

When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”

Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.

It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”

“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”

With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”

“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”

A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”

The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”

It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.

[anonthenullifier]

Quote prompt! "What do you mean it's on fire?!"

Thanks for the prompt! Immediately it made me think of a way to finally write out one of my head canons for Vision. I hope you enjoy this!

*****

In one hand Wanda casually grips a wine glass (a Sauvignon Blanc, according to Vision but she’ll drink anything that’s offered) and in the other she directs the angle of the camcorder propped up on a little table top tripod. “What are you doing now?”

“We are,” with stilted movements, Vision’s goggle covered eyes never straying far from the tripod, he answers, “placing our tomato purée into this centrifuge.” Wanda waves her hand, trying to elicit a bit more from him. “Um we have it set to spin at 20,000 gees per minute which will force the components to separate.”

“Using this,” Helen, who is only marginally more at ease in front of the camera, pats the machine lovingly, “we can separate out the purée by density. So by the end we’ll have the pulp, oil, and water of the tomato in three distinct layers.” Wanda sends them a thumbs up as they place the tubes inside their holders and let’s them have a few minutes of peace before moving them along.

This whole evening is part of a new initiative Tony (via Pepper who is the actual brains of PR) has set up to “normalize” the Avengers more. Each of them was tasked with finding an activity to document that let’s the public realize they are all normal-ish people. Vision had spent many hours brainstorming with her what he could do since his main hobbies are reading, watching television with her, and floating around the compound. Even though all are true hobbies, she had to inform him that it was a grossly incomplete list because (amongst other omissions) for the last two months he’s been hosting Molecular Gastronomy Mondays (or MGM as the team fearfully refers to it) with Helen. Initially he adamantly refused this suggestion, not wanting to make Helen uncomfortable, but Wanda finally convinced him after they spent a whole day watching YouTube cooking channels and she ever so casually mentioned how it seemed there was a dearth of scientific explanations in these channels and how she wished everyone got to enjoy MGM like she did.

Since it was her doing to tip them into filming, Wanda agreed to direct. She always attends these nights anyway, driven by hunger and morbid curiosity (even after the egg yolk explosion that required a lengthy shower and a week-long aversion towards anything eggy), but tonight she just has to be a tiny bit more involved. “Why do you need to separate it?”

The question seems to rejuvenate Vision, his body turning towards her enough for his apron to be on display, an image of two circles and a square labeled Proton, Neutron, Crouton . “Tonight we are crafting a translucent tomato consommé. In order to remove all color we have to get food particles no larger than seven microns.”

“And the way to do that is with centrifugal force.” Helen joins in, excitement finally coming through, which was Wanda’s hope in pestering them with questions to unlock their usual talkative selves whenever science is involved. “This,” another loving pat is given to the machine, “is actually an old one from my lab. You can buy food specific ones but we spent the last few weeks adapting it to be food safe.” With a push of a button the machine’s insides begin to spin. “Now we can make the spheres.”

Wanda sips her wine as they gather all they need: a beaker from the fridge that she knows has been sitting overnight, a bottle of extra virgin olive oil, a medicine bottle of white powder, an empty beaker, and a pipette.

“Now,” Helen ( whose own apron tells the world to Quiche the Cook ) talks while Vision arranges all the items in an orderly fashion, “we’re going to demonstrate the process of spherification.”

With a wave of his hand Vision begins this segment by explaining to the viewers (by way of speaking exclusively to Wanda, a technique she suggested to help calm his nerves), “Last night we mixed water with alginate - which itself is derived from brown algae though there will be no discernible taste from it.” The little smirk that always accompanies his factoids is adorable and she hopes it translates well on video. “It has to sit overnight to remove all air bubbles. Dr. Cho.”

Smoothly they transition the baton of explanation, a pre-planned segue to keep it lively, Helen now narrating as Vision performs the next task, “What we do now is mix our olive oil with calcium chloride. This will cause the polymers of the alginate to cross link and form a gel. By dropping the olive oil mixture through the pipette, it will form spheres. If you watch Vision-”

Wanda zones out the rest, eyes taking in a little plume of smoke rising from behind the steady hands of Vision, following it as it dances through the air until it is drawn into the kitchen’s exhaust fan. Curiosity piqued, she leans as far to the side as she can without accidentally knocking over the camera. Amongst the whirling tubes of tomato lingers a far more sinister force. “Um Vision...the centrifuge is on fire.”

Vision pauses, pipette of the olive oil mixture poised over the alginate water, and a wary half-arced smile on his face that he gets whenever he is hoping to discover some new source of humor instead of derision. “What do you mean it’s on fire?”

“That it’s on fire.”

The two cooks turn towards the machine, Vision with an “Oh dear!” and Helen’s less composed, “Dammit!” Wanda knows she should help, but instead she turns the camera a bit to the right, the Sauvignon Blanc pairing perfectly with the entertainment of watching Helen cautiously open the machine while Vision uses the fire extinguisher to stop the flames.

After a hesitant glance inside, Helen pushes her goggles up onto the top of her head and laughs. “Of course.”

“I am beginning to suspect sabotage of our endeavors,” a serious accusation that is tempered by Vision’s less-than-serious delivery.

An equally facetious tone emerges from the usually stoic woman, “Steve did say our bacon foam made him uncomfortable.”

Wanda zooms the shot in to capture the full effect of the radiant amusement on Vision’s face as he weighs the hypothesis, “Or perhaps we defer to Occam’s Razor and accept that electrical engineering is not our forte.”

A dry, “I’ll stick with sabotage,” sends the two mad scientists into conspiratorial sniggers and Wanda knows this will accomplish exactly what Tony wants.

She keeps the camera going as Vision turns towards her, a breathtakingly friendly curve to his lips as he brings her into their conversation, “It seems your promised dinner is ruined,” a dour statement said with just enough self-deprecating verve that it itself should demystify the way the public sees him. But then he goes a step further, cementing firmly his humanness on camera, “Shall we just order pizza instead?”

[thestyleswritings]

Restoration of Faith

REQUEST: (this may be triggering, so i'd understand if you chose not to write it). first-time consensual sex. Y/N lost her virginity in a sexual assault but has been to therapy. It took her a while to be comfortable with sex, but now she decides she's finally ready to have sex with Harry for the first time. He know what happened wants to make it a positive experience for her so he's super gentle and attentive.

  "I'm... Nervous," she admits, biting her lower lip once again and truly testing his resolve. Her lips were always a key part in his fantasies. Contrary to her words, she rocks herself onto his growing length, making the pair of them shiver.

 "You don't need to be nervous, princess. This is all you. We can do whatever you want and nothing more. The ball is in your court." Harry tells her softly, though now his voice has a gruffness to it that she's only heard early in the morning.

Or

Harry meets a girl who’s been through something awful and falls deeply in love with her.

Warnings: Smut, TW // Mentions of abuse and self-harm

4k+ 

  Therapy had saved her life. She was ready and willing to admit that. After her attack, she stopped texting, calling, going out. She wouldn't make contact with anyone for anything, even her professors had thought she'd dropped off the face of the planet. She wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping, and she wasn't showering. She also had a very nasty habit of hurting herself, even if only a little bit, just to feel something. The sting of a cut, the scorch of a lighter. It took her somewhere close to 3 months to even get out of her head and call a therapist.

 It had been another 6 months into therapy that she'd met Harry. Before he arrived in her life, she always kept the same routine to feel as if she had more control over her life, never failing to tick every box to the letter on her list of daily activities. It helped her feel like she was really in charge of her life, an exercise her therapist taught her, and consistently praised her for continuing on her own.

 The day she met Harry, everything she had structured in place for herself shifted. It started when she missed the bus she normally took to her weekly appointment, kicking herself for snoozing her alarm one too many times. She typically didn't even take advantage of the function on her phone, only she'd been feeling hazy for a few days prior and figured a moments peace couldn't hurt anyone. With a scowl on her face, she decided she'd just hoof it there and apologise profusely for her tardiness once she arrived.

 Only she never made it that day. One blasted thing after another got in her way, making it nearly impossible to get to her destination. Pavements were closed on one road, traffic being directed in a never-ending stream on another. It was maddening. She could almost feel herself unravelling towards a breakdown when a man spoke to her left, nearly causing her to jump from her skin.

 "Sorry love, was only asking if you knew another way 'round this intersection. I've got an appointment at a quarter til, and it's just about half-past now. I didn't mean to give you such a scare," the man sounded sincere, honest, apologetic. She felt the very corner of her lips raise at the notion. An honest man? Unfathomable.

 "S'alright, I'm just a bit caught up in my mind, innit?" She offered, tone teetering on cheekiness.

 "I must be too, s'why I'm on my way to therapy. Though it seems like every bloody traffic cop in London would rather I didn't make it there." The man scoffed lightheartedly, dramatically rolling his eyes for her amusement.

 "Oh, that's actually where I was headed." She offers, not exactly sure why. She didn't owe him any further explanation of her presence on the street, but here she was, still giving one. It felt nice. She hadn't so much as double taken a man since what had happened to her, but there was something so welcoming about him. So she dared to ask his name, creating an inevitable conversation. She made a note to let her therapist in on this major break in her recovery realisation.

 "'M Harry. You?" He said, glittering eyes gazing into hers.

--

 Another 6 months down the road, she felt her throat close up as her heart sank to her stomach. She and Harry had laid down a sturdy foundation together in the time leading up to then, strong as mountains. They'd quickly become the best of friends, laughing at all the same corny puns and jokes and learning every little quirk that made the other up. She knew things like how he took his coffee, and what kind of jam was his favourite. She knew where he'd grown up, who he was friends with in another life, strange dreams he had, what sort of dumb things he and his sister fought over when they were young. But she also had more intimate knowledge, things like his deepest fears regarding his family, his future, if he'll have a family of his own, his regrets. And he knew those same things about her. She trusted him by showing him what she'd done to herself when she needed to bring herself back to reality. She told him what she was ashamed of, both things she had done and what had been done to her. She spoke openly about how her purity had been snatched from her grasp, although kicking and screaming. She cried to him when she felt small. They had even told the other they were in love.

 That's what scared her half to death. She knew she loved him with the entirety of her soul, but she was afraid, almost petrified, to take her clothes off in front of him. She had a few unwelcomed touch-memories when he'd come up behind her and laid a hand on her hip innocently, or when he'd spontaneously kissed her neck and she nearly lost her mind.

 And he understood that. He couldn't imagine the kinds of trauma buried beneath her skin, the levels of paranoia that were bestowed upon her. From the nights she spent at his flat, he knew she sometimes would even jump in her sleep. It made him upset. Not because she was subconsciously jumping from his touch, but because someone made it that way. He would never forgive himself, even if the thought was beyond irrational, for not meeting her sooner. He wished more than anything to take that pain off her shoulders. To erase the searing memory she was still so harshly burdened with. Of course, he desired her physically, but he would never be able to live with himself if he made her feel pressured or uncomfortable. What kind of monster couldn't wait to be intimate with her? It kept him up some nights, but he'd never tell her that. She felt guilty enough as it was during their waking hours, he couldn't add to her burden by telling her he couldn't sleep sometimes while thinking of the horror she went through, cuddling her to his side deeper as she slept soundlessly.

 So when she went to Harry and sat on his lap, curled up like a kitten, he was a bit taken aback. He loved a cuddle and was one of the snuggliest creatures she had ever had the pleasure of meeting, but they usually only cuddled once they were in bed, where she felt the safest. He didn't dare protest, silently complying and raising a hand to get lost in her hair, petting his fingers against her scalp lightly.

 "What's on your mind, pet?" Harry rasped quietly, voice tired from the full day he'd had at work. She had been home all day, thinking of ways to break the conversation, fibbing and telling him she was skipping the day's class to stay at his flat and complete her essay, bringing her one step closer to her master's degree.

 "Just thinking. I love you, I've just been thinking about you all day." She admits softly, pressing a kiss to his neck just below his ear.  

 He feels a blush run over his cheeks, feels himself inflate with affection and giddiness, much like a puppy getting its belly scratched. He couldn't help the goofy smirk adorning his lips, he just felt too good not to.

 "Yeah, baby? I love you. I'm so crazy about you. You're always on my mind." He tells her, not caring how utterly lovesick he comes across at times.

 She flushes, though it comes with a tingle that travels from the top of her head to the tips of her fingertips and toes. It's almost like she can physically feel his soul in hers and she feels alive. She truly can't help but give his neck another kiss, wetter this time, and joined by several others. He shudders and she feels it, making her blood sing in her veins. She couldn't remember a time where she felt so in love, so safe and so free. She felt like she and Harry could soar the greatest heights together, the pair of them unstoppable when they were together. It was an incredible feeling.

 "What are you after, baby?" He questioned, not wanting her to stop but also wanting to see where her head was at. He didn't want her to make a rash decision if she would end up regretting it later down the line.

 Instead of answering outright, she removes her face from his throat with one last kiss. Her eyes are doe-like and Harry's heart stutters. She'd never looked more radiant or confident than in that moment. Taking her lip between her teeth, she looks down between them to catch his big hand in her smaller ones. The air thickened instantly, the pair of them seemingly holding their breath.

 "Just.. wanna be close to you. Wanna love on you, if you let me," she purrs, causing the hairs on Harry's neck to come to a stand and his tummy to flutter. She can't be implying what I think she is? He thinks to himself. It's not that she's never shown her attraction to him, he just can't believe today could be the day he's finally allowed to touch her. He's thought about it countless times, dreamt of it even, and it nearly brings a tear to his eye that she finally, finally feels comfortable and safe enough to physically show him love.

"Yeah? Show me how you wanna love on me, princess." Harry breathes, light filling his green eyes. He wants her to show him exactly what she wants, willing to go to the ends of the earth for his girl to be whatever she wanted.

 She's back to feeling shy, not really knowing how to initiate this. She knows he'd take the ropes if she were to hand them over, but they both know how important it is that she takes control at this moment. This is her choice.

She looks into his eyes and her breath stalls at the look of love he's sending her. She dives back in, kissing Harry with a fervour he's never felt from her. He can practically taste the lust dripping from her tongue onto his. Gingerly, she presses herself against his lap where he's already sporting a mainly solidly stiff prick. As silly as she feels for it, the presence of it shocks her, ripping a gasp from her puffy lips. The feeling sends her into a frenzy, pulling back with wide eyes and a rapidly rising and falling chest to meet his gaze once more.

 "Mhm, you feel it? 'S for you. Always is," Harry admits with a blush. He's no stranger to dirty talk, but he wants to take precautions with her. He doesn't know how filthy he can be without sending her back into her shell.

 "I'm... Nervous," she admits, biting her lower lip once again and truly testing his resolve. Her lips were always a key part in his fantasies. Contrary to her words, she rocks herself onto his growing length, making the pair of them shiver.

 "You don't need to be nervous, princess. This is all you. We can do whatever you want and nothing more. The ball is in your court." Harry tells her softly, though now his voice has a gruffness to it that she's only heard early in the morning.

 "I want you, in every way. Stayed home to pluck up the courage to do summat about it. And to take a very, very thorough shower that involved a lot of bending and twisting to get everything shaved." She tells him, a raspberry blush appearing beneath the skin of her cheeks. He's in awe again, of his darling girl.

 "Cheeky thing. Lied to me about why you stayed home just so you could strategise how to jump m' bones?" Harry chuckles, grabbing her waist delicately before making the motion to stand.

 "Gonna bring me to bed?" She asks breathlessly, nerves still getting the better of her. But she won't let her fears and self-doubt get in the way of another night she could've spent wrapped up in her love. Not anymore.

 The moment she feels the plush mattress beneath her, she can breathe a bit steadier. Even if they hadn't used the bed for its extra-curricular purpose, it was still a major staple in their relationship. She knew this place, and she felt safe here.

 "Take off your clothes." She instructs simply. If she were to get through to the rewarding bit of this, she had to hurry and get to it already. The build-up was the worst part. His lip curls at the command as he does what she asks. He leaves himself in nothing but his tight black boxer-briefs, kneeling on the bed before advancing. Watching and waiting to see if she would ask him to do something else.

 "Come here, please," she begs of him, reaching an arm out to grasp the back of his neck. He's awfully careful as he crawls up the bed, hovering over her much smaller body, not putting an ounce of pressure on her.

 "I love you. I love you so much. I-I wish you could've actually been my first," she begins, but he stops her.

 "I will be." He assures her, "If you didn't say yes, it wasn't your first, princess. I know I've told y'that. This is what you'll think about when you think about your first. I promise you I won't let any other thought come up." His voice breaks as he cradles her face, finally dropping his body to rest against hers. The kiss he lands to her lips shatters her and mends her at once, feeling the love and healing he put into it.

 "Please, I don't know what I'm doing yet," she mumbles against his lips, grazing her hand along his length. He draws back to look at her once before he's moving down the bed again, placing kisses to her neck and gripping the bottom of her shirt. She can faintly hear him asking to undress her through the blood rushing to her ears and she nods. She may be inexperienced, but she isn't naive. She knows exactly what he's headed down to do, and more than anything, she's excited.

 "Aw, princess, s'this all for me?" Harry coos his rhetorical question softly upon seeing how incredibly aroused she'd become, kissing the softest and squidgiest bit of her thigh; right up top.

 "You know it is," she whimpers, threading her fingers through his thick strands. Before she's even finished her sentence, her panties were pulled from her hips. She ignores the unpleasantly familiar sensation of someone that isn't her taking them off. Harry. It's Harry.

 "God princess, might be down here a while..." Harry breathes, voice drunk. She peers up at him quickly enough to catch the strong drag of his tongue against her slippery lips. The noise she makes would've made him laugh in other circumstances, a squeak, instead he grunts and grinds his hips into the mattress. He might not even make it inside her before he's tapped out.

 The movement of his tongue picks up each time she squeezes the handful of hair in her grasp, which is quite often, and he's loving it. He doesn't think he'll ever get enough of her sweet peach now that he's had his tongue inside her. She can't describe the feeling, she just knows that she would be asking him to replicate his actions often. She tenses up as her clit makes its way into his mouth, hearing the filthy slurps and moans coming from his lips. She could finish just from the sound of him. She thrashes when she feels a finger tease the rim of her opening, subconsciously kicking at Harry's shoulder before he grabs her ankle and kisses it.

 "I's me, princess. S' just me. Let me make you feel good, sweet girl." His voice calms her immensely, shaking her head and focusing back on him. He's so good to her, it feels like karma's personal apology to her.

 "Sorry," she says sheepishly. She knew it would happen, she just hoped she hadn't ruined the mood. As if she ever could.

 No more words are spoken as she feels his finger back at her hole, lips leaving kisses to her lower tummy. He slides it in further than the rim this time, sucking her clit into his mouth to alleviate any discomfort she may have felt. He thrusts his finger in steadily, not too hard but definitely not as soft as he'd been at first. She appreciates him attempting to keep some normalcy.

 "Wait- Oh! Feels good, really good. Wanna feel you now, please-Please!" She nearly surrenders to her pleasure when he adds another finger, curling them right up against her spongy wall.

 "Gonna make you come first, princess." He tells her, not bothering to break away from her clit. The vibrations in combination with his unrelenting fingers send her spiralling over that edge she'd wanted to fall over with him. Her moans are strangled as she reaches her orgasm, the sound bringing Harry to a pile of mush below her, still working her through it.

 "Mmm," she tries to form words as he hovers back over her, but she can't seem to find any. She's overcome with a multitude of emotions that she suddenly can't convey. She feels loved, she feels proud, she feels safe and she feels clean.

 "Can pick this back up tomorrow, my love. You seem sedated." He jokes, kissing her lips and leaving behind a lingering taste of herself. She shakes her head, grabbing at his hips and pulling them down to her own.

 "Want it now," she breathes, kissing his neck where she knows he's the most sensitive. And who is he to argue with that? He's about to stand to get an emergency condom he keeps in his closet before she clears her throat. His attention is back on her immediately, looking for any signs of hesitation.

 "M' on the pill," she mutters shyly and Harry's jaw drops. He gets to have her and she'll be bare? This day could not get any better.

 "God, you're perfect. I love you," he reminds her, peppering kisses to every inch of her face possible before reaching down to take her hands and guide them to his pants. "You do this bit. You've waited long enough," Harry encourages her, slipping both their fingers into the band before letting go of hers.

 When she yanks them down, she's floored. That's what I've been missing? She thinks. It's thick and tall, standing between them with a certain strength and glory. He doesn't miss the look in her eye, but he doesn't call her out on it. He has all the time in the world to tease her about her awe of his cock another day.

  "Sure you want to do this?" Harry checks for the hundredth time. She kisses his nose and nods before taking a deep breath.

 "I'd never regret this. I'd regret if we didn't." She assures him, gripping his torso in one hand as to brace herself. He nods, knowing her word is final.

 He's gentle as he strokes himself and even gentler as he lines his cock up with her delicate little hole. He cannot believe he's about to have sex with the love of his life. He can't believe how lucky he is to be her first. Her real first. The first lover to have her this way, the only man who gets to say she's his.

 The initial push causes a sting to shoot through her lower half, throwing her mind to the last time she'd felt it, but she powers through. It's Harry. It's her lover. The man she trusts with her entire life. She hears his breath hitch instantly, only having pushed the tip and a bit more in. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, indulging in the feel of his girl before opening them to check on her.

 "You okay, beloved?" He asks, voice beyond strained. When she gives him a nod, he pushes more of himself into her until she's hitting his side. His head snaps to the side, expecting a look of fear or pain, but to his utter surprise, he sees a look of pure bliss. He knows he's up against her spot, feeling the rough patch massage his tip. He uses this knowledge to his advantage, bottoming out at this angle, catching the spot the entire time he glides in and sending her into a frenzy of sorts. Her legs instantly locking onto his hips, giving him little leeway to do much else but fuck into her right onto her spot. She clenches around him as he pulls back, almost like she didn't want him to move his hips away from hers for even a moment.

 "Feels, god! Feel so good, angel. My sweet baby, yeah? Feel good for you?" Harry rambles, nipping the skin of her neck to distract himself from blowing his load right then.

 She's a mess, physically unable to stay put for more than one thrust. She never thought she'd be doing this, never thought she'd even make it through the year last year. The fact that it's her Harry just pushing her further and further into space.

 "Mhm, so good. What, what are you doing? S' really nice. Does it always-?" She's a moaning mess as she replies, feeling a particularly solid strike at her beloved spot that she didn't know existed until now. He chuckles at the unintended compliment to his performance.

 "Feel this good? Nah, s' because we're in love," Harry begins, but the feeling was too overwhelming, causing the word 'love' to come out as if he'd been hit in the stomach with a steel baseball bat. As if the spoken emotional intimacy turned him on to a point he couldn't stop himself from coming. He couldn't help it as the feeling travelled from deep in his belly, shooting out all the love he could produce, spilling into his princess.

 "Mm, fuck Harry, I'm about to-" She moans at the feeling of his warmth spreading inside her and he cuts her off with the rapid movement of his nimble fingers down to her clit, still pistoning his hips into her, prick softening but still effective as she came.

 Harry collapsed on top of her, wrapping an arm around her back to press their bodies even closer. He was still inside of her and she could feel the spurts still going as she came down.

 "I'm so sorry... I literally couldn't stop myself from-" Harry begins, but she laughs. Laughs like she hadn't laughed in a year. A genuine laugh that drew tears from her eyes and an ache to form in her belly. His cheeks and ears grew red as she continued to laugh, thinking she was laughing at his premature end.

 "Hey, it happens to a lot of guys! And I got you off again, don't make fun of me," he pouts, beginning to retract his arm from around her before she grabs a hold of it.

 "Not laughing at you, doughnut. I love you so much, and you did get me off again. I'm laughing because I feel, I don't know. Clean." She admits, kissing his temple.

 "After that? Should feel right sticky, I know I do," Harry gests, leaving her a kiss to her own temple before pulling out slowly. She gasps at the hollow feeling, but she has an inkling he may not mind filling her right back up whenever she wanted.

 "You know what I mean." She rolls her eyes, allowing his arms to encompass her.

 "I know, baby. I'm glad you found the strength in yourself to do this. And not just because you let me shag ya." Harry hums, kissing the crown of her head.

 "You're an idiot," she teases. She couldn't be more in love if she tried.

"'M your idiot."

 And yeah, maybe the idiot had a point.

-- 

Thank you for reading! This was a little difficult to write for personal reasons, but I hope this piece was alright! Please share your feedback/thoughts!

[dreamersmemes]

jessie reyez ‘before love came to kill us’ sentences

feel free to change pronouns & things ! DO YOU LOVE HER

‘ i should’ve fucked your friends ’ ‘ it would’ve been the best revenge ’ ‘ i’m trying to heal but it’s a process ’ ‘ there’s a stranger where my heart is ’ ‘ i’m sick with feeling like i deserved better ’ ‘ you’re sick for everything you did to me ’ ‘ it was a setup ’ ‘ if i blow your brains out, i could guarantee that you’ll forget her ’ ‘ i could kiss it better ’ ‘ kiss me ’ ‘ i’m the monster that you made ’ ‘ kiss me, i’m the monster that you made ’ ‘ you made me ’ ‘ now i’m just like you ’ ‘ don’t complain ’ ‘ i do the things you like hoping you’d stay ’ ‘ you don’t want me unless i’m someone else’s ’ ‘ you don’t even know you’re being selfish ’ ‘ that’s when you get off and you can’t help it ’ ‘ all your bullets, they feel like velvet ’ ‘ i let you do it ’ ‘ i loved you too much ’ ‘ your dead to me ’

DEAF ( who are you )

‘ what the fuck’s a day off? ’ ‘ i don’t love ya ’ ‘ go get your bitch ’ ‘ she’s all on my dick ’ ‘ i am the one that got you in love ’ ‘ i heard you got a lot to say ’ ‘ i ain’t a killer, i’ll let you breathe ’ ‘ oh, now you don’t recognise my face? ’ ‘ i never listen ’ ‘ who are you? ’ ‘ if i’m sipping jameson, i don’t answer ’ ‘ i’m taking everything i came for ’ ‘ i ain’t fucking asking ’ ‘ who are you, bitch? ’

INTRUDERS

‘ this is mine from now on ’ ‘ when i see intruders, i load up my weapons ’ ‘ you’re beautiful ’ ‘ i see them stare ’ ‘ you belong to me ’ ‘ i’d kill all intruders ’ ‘ my love is ruthless ’ ‘ you are my kingdom ’ ' heads on a stake of people that failed ’ ‘ don’t you come in ’ ‘ this is my land ’ ‘ please, no intruders ’

COFFIN

‘ we fought until the sun rose ’ ‘ i still ain’t been to bed ’ ‘ the devil wakes up in my head ’ ‘ he told me that you hate me and you blame me ’ ‘ you hate me and you blame me ’ ‘ you said that you wish that you were dead ’ ‘ you make me wanna jump off a roof ’ ‘ i love you to death ’ ‘ i love you to death, just like a fool ’ ‘ i walk up to the edge and say a prayer before i let go ’ ‘ you get there just in time to save me and apologise ’ ‘ maybe we can go back to bed ’ ‘ i had to watch you jump off the roof ’ ‘ maybe buddha’s got it right? we reincarnate every time ’ ‘ i’ll find you in another life ’ ‘ i don’t really wanna fight ’ ‘ i just wanna spend the night ’ ‘ hit me in the eye, bit me on the thigh, then began to cry ’ ‘ i’m at the end of my wits. let’s end this ’ ‘ pledge your loyalty, treat me like a king ’ ‘ no matter how mad i get, i’m mad about you ’ ‘ i know we’ve had our challenges, still i keep trying to salvage it ’ ‘ bet you think i’m fucking around on you ’ ‘ it never changes, i doubt if it will ’ ‘ cheat on me then say “how does it feel?” ‘ ‘ how could you? ’ ‘ i almost had a child with you ’ ‘ i’ll put you in the ground ’ ‘ you’re just trying to pull me down with you ’ ‘ if you jump, i’m jumping with you ’ ‘ neither one of us having nothing to lose but each other ’

ANKLES

‘ we fight just to fuck just to fight again ’ ‘ i never thought you’d leave me ’ ‘ i doubt you’ll ever find anyone ’ ‘ these bitches can’t measure up ’ ‘ you apologise, but your twitter says ‘no regrets’ ’ ‘ i’d kill for a mute button in my head ’ ‘ i’m tired of pretending like i was the guilty one ’ ‘ you’re shallow ’ ‘ why’s it always me that’s gotta feel bad? ’ ‘ you left me in a heartbeat ’ ‘ it will never go back to the way it was ’ ‘ she’s not on my level, you could’ve done better ’ ‘ you make me sick ’ ‘ i’m back on my shit ’ ‘ she doesn’t ride like i used to ride it ’ ‘ i doubt you’ll find anyone to measure up to me ’

IMPORTED

‘ my bank account is looking mighty fine ’ ‘ we can skip the wine and dine, go straight to the wind and grind ’ ‘ wanna cum? i can make it happen ’ ‘ you can be my biggest secret ’ ‘ you’re gonna have to leave him ’ ‘ you’re in love with somebody else ’ ‘ maybe i could offer some help? ’ ‘ get over them by getting under me ’ ‘ you might o.d if you get too much of me ’ ‘ my name is not important ’ ‘ i’m not from here ’ ‘ i drink liquor like it’s water ’ ‘ what happened here ain’t nothing sacred ’ ‘ that got me fucked up ’ ‘ i know that dude just saw me naked ’ ‘ fake it ‘til you make it ’

SAME SIDE

‘ how come i can’t leave you? ’ ‘ i feel like i am tied down to someone who’s making me cry more than making me smile ’ ‘ i don’t want you. i hate you, i think. but i don’t wanna be alone either ’ ‘ you’re such an asshole, but i see a prince ’ ‘ i’m a good girl, but you see a bitch ’ ‘ i wanna make love, you wanna burn a bridge ’ ‘ i wish i was a bad guy ’ ‘ we could be fighting on the same side ’ ‘ you said you would be out of my life ’ ‘ you used to be paradise ’ ‘ you used to be where i would go to hide from people who treat me how you treated me ’ ‘ i don’t believe you ’ ‘ sorry i’m not your ex ’ ‘ i’m sorry i’m lacking self-respect ’ ‘ should’ve left you when you started hopping beds ’ ‘ i’m sorry, i swear that i tried my best ’ ‘ can’t you be sorry instead? ’

ROOF

‘ it be skinny dudes packing those anacondas ’ ‘ i’m a fucking monster ’ ‘ everything i do hits the roof ’ ‘ i got nothing to lose ’ ‘ you lucky i don’t want your man ’ ‘ never really ever had a high like this ’

DOPE

‘ tell me do you need a teacher? ’ ‘ i know i got what you need ’ ‘ i know what you like ’ ‘ that shit dope ’ ‘ come here hot boy ’ ‘ it’s only bad if you get caught ’ ‘ pull that trigger ’ ‘ put that drink down ’

BEFORE LOVE CAME TO KILL US

‘ i love you in the worst way ’ ‘ you knock me down like a heavyweight ’ ‘ we fell in love ’ ‘ nobody gets out of love alive ’ ‘ we either break up or we say goodbye when we die ’ ‘ for a moment at least, i know you were mine ’ ‘ winter comes and roses don’t survive ’ ‘ it’s getting late and i should go ’ ‘ i wanna hold you ’ ‘ we’re not supposed to but i can’t learn my lesson ’ ‘ i miss when you were my best friend ’ ‘ i think about you everyday ’ ‘ life’s good and i’m getting paid ’ ‘ when i miss you i medicate ’

LOVE IN THE DARK

‘ we’re only humans, floating on a rock ’ ‘ i think you are made of stardust ’ ‘ you put up with so much ’ ‘ the sweetest goodbyes are never with smiles at all ’ ‘ our lives are running out ’ ‘ i’ll be there to pull you back up ’ ‘ i’m nothing without you ’ ‘ i won’t leave you alone ’ ‘ there’s love in the dark ’ ‘ i’d do anything to relive our memories ’ ‘ i thank god for everything that you showed me ’

I DO

‘ we let this castle fall down, what a tragedy ’ ‘ do i still live in your head? ’ ‘ do you still live with regrets? ’ ‘ because i do ’ ‘ i do ’ ‘ do you got something on your chest? ’ ‘ do you wish we weren’t finished yet? ’ ‘ come bring me all your sins ’ ‘ put a band-aid on the scars ’ ‘ would you give me your heart again? ’ ‘ if i could just see you. we don’t even have to talk ’ ‘ i’ll take an argument ’ ‘ all i want is a familiar face ’ ‘ i’d much rather hurt from familiar pain ’

FIGURES

‘ i gave you ride or die and you gave me games ’ ‘ i’m crying ‘cause you just won’t change ’ ‘ i gave it all and you gave me shit ’ ‘ i wish i could hurt you back ’ ‘ what would you do if you couldn’t get me back? ’ ‘ you’re the one who’s gonna lose something so special ’ ‘ tell me boy how in the fuck would you feel? ’ ‘ i’m the bad guy because i can’t learn to trust ’ ‘ you say sorry once and you think it’s enough ’ ‘ i got a lineup of girls and a lineup of guys begging for me just to give them a try ’ ‘ i’m willing to stay because i’m sick for your love ’

FAR AWAY II

‘ i think you’re the love of my life ’ ‘ i feel like i need you tonight beside me ’ ‘ i feel what you feel when you’re far away ’ ‘ i ran out of heart, don’t got feelings ’ ‘ you left your panties and bra right under my pillow ’ ‘ you gonna stay on me until i’m finished ’ ‘ your body won’t say stop ’ ‘ you feel it in your soul ’ ‘ i fuck with your vibe ’ ‘ i never meant to do you dirty or make you cry ’ ‘ you’re just my type ’ ‘ like the love of my life ’ ‘ i care about you so much it’s kinda scary ’ ‘ I’m happy that it’s happening ’ ‘ i just miss you ’

WORTH SAVING

‘ you’re trying to leave while you can ’ ‘ i might be worth saving ’ ‘ when you come back i might not be here waiting ’ ‘ didn’t you say that your mama liked me? ’ ‘ there ain’t gonna be one like me ’ ‘ don’t let me go too easy ’ ‘ i’m not the easiest ’ ‘ to be real i don’t blame you for leaving me ’ ‘ all my friends, they hate your guts ’ ‘ i’m here defending all you’ve done ’ ‘ i’m not the easiest, don’t even blame your dumbass for leaving me ’

SUGAR AT NIGHT

‘ i could blame your parents, but you’re grown now ’ ‘ a couple vodka’s and you lose all control ’ ‘ if it ain’t about you, you just peace and zone out ’ ‘ it’s such a joke to hope that you could just be normal ’ ‘ you’ll never make me a bride ’ ‘ you just give me fight scenes ’ ‘ you always take away my smile ’ ‘ you always fuck up my dreams ’ ‘ sometimes i wish that you’d never entered my life ’ ‘ you had a wild light ’ ‘ embarrassed when i had to call you my guy ’ ‘ you stole my good years ’ ‘ i could’ve dodged your cheating and some bad scars ’

NO ONE’S IN THE ROOM

‘ i’d go to church every sunday ’ ‘ teenage love still took my virgin skin ’ ‘ after my first time i cried ’ ‘ after my first time i cried because i thought heaven wouldn’t let me in ’ ‘ the priest has got a boyfriend ’ ‘ the teachers smoke weed after school ’ ‘ when you’re young they try to keep you in cages ’ ‘ most of them don’t follow their own rules ’ ‘ i need to talk to god there’s just some things that i don’t understand ’ ‘ who am i when no one’s in the room? ’ ‘ does the voice in my head that talks me off a ledge belong to me? ’ ‘ vices only pacify for the moment ’ ‘ vices that they made to hold our pain ’ ‘ spend your whole life being graded ’ ‘ you’re not enough ’

[bangchanzz]

Lover’s Paradise

Chapter 5

JEON JUNGKOOK X READER

Summary: Idol!Jungkook and Celebrity!Y/N have been friends for years. For both of them, their friendship has always bordered on more than friends, but neither of them are brave enough to take the leap of faith and confess. But when Y/N hosts the boys of BTS at her suave LA mansion and somehow finds herself sharing a bed with Jungkook, who harbors a few dark secrets of his own, things spin out of control. Tensions rise as she shows them a glimpse of her suave superstar lifestyle, and secrets come out that could change people’s lives forever.

Warnings: Severe depression and anxiety. Mentions of suicide. Eventual smut. Mentions of sex acts. Virgin!JK. Mentions of drug and alcohol use. ANGST

Word Count: 4.4K

Author’s Note: OH she’s angsty. We love good old miscommunication as a plot device :) Enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Lover’s Paradise Masterlist

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Chapter 5

YOUR POV

You were roused from the peaceful clutches of sleep by the unmistakable noise of someone throwing up.

With a sigh you flung the covers back and slid out of bed, wincing slightly as your feet hit the cold hardwood floor. You walked to the bathroom to find Jungkook’s retching form slumped over the toilet, one cheek pressed to the cool rim. The acrid stench of vomit had you gagging in the doorway.

As an avid drinker you yourself had been in the very same position many a time and had sympathy for the poor kid. Alcohol was one tricky drug that unfortunately took a while to master.

You sat down beside him and brushed his hair back from his face, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

He looked at you, his soft brown eyes brimming with misery, tears streaming down his face. Your heart clenched. You wanted nothing more than to take him in your arms and ease his pain like you did last night, but that wasn’t an option right now.

“I don’t feel good,” he sobbed.

“I know,” you replied. “I’m going to get you some water, okay? Stay here.”

He could only nod before another wave of nausea hit and he started throwing up.

You felt bad, but as a sympathetic vomiter you couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

In the kitchen you found Namjoon and Jin enjoying a breakfast of fresh fruit.

“Hey Y/N,” Jin said cheerfully. “How was your night?”

“My night was fine,” you said, reaching for a glass from the cabinet. “Jungkook on the other hand… well, let’s just say he is currently paying the piper.”

The two older boys shared a concerned look.

“How bad?” Namjoon asked.

“He’s throwing up,” you responded, filling up the glass, “and I don’t do very well with vomit so do you guys think you could…?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jin said, grabbing the glass of water from your hands and heading upstairs, Namjoon in tow.

You sighed and leaned against the counter. Now what? Going upstairs wasn’t an option, but you were still exhausted, so you wandered into the living room to find Brandon watching Netflix on the couch.

“Hey,” you said, slumping down next to him and immediately leaning into his side.

“Good morning, Princess,” Brandon said with a grin, slinging his arm around your shoulders and planting a kiss on your temple.

“Jungkook is throwing up in my bathroom so this is my bed now.”

“Ah,” he responded absently, moving to lie down on the couch and pulling you with him. You settled in easily to the shape of his body—something you’d done a thousand times before. His cinnamon and clove scent draped over your senses, the sensation familiar and inviting as he traced little circles on your bare thigh.

But as your eyes drooped and you slowly faded into sleep you found yourself reliving the ways your body had fit into another boy’s; what it had felt like under his touch, and you found yourself wishing the body pressed against yours belonged to someone else.

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JUNGKOOK’S POV

After what felt like an eternity of throwing up all the food he’d eaten in the past 72 hours, Jungkook made his way downstairs to rejoin society. But as he descended the stairs he froze at the sight before him on the couch.

It was you and Brandon, both sound asleep with some sitcom playing softly on the TV.

He realized with no small amount of envy that the two of you fit together perfectly, like matching puzzle pieces. The two of you even looked good together, like you were destined to be a matching set.

A queen to his king. That’s what this was, and Jungkook was a fool for denying it. Brandon was a king in his own right; a king ruling over a broken kingdom of fame, sex, and designer drugs forged in ecstasy under a dusky palm-studded boulevard. He was a king of rowdy nights and drunken whispers displayed across billboards in neon lights, and as much as Jungkook wished he could deny it, that was your scene. You ruled beside him, untouched and unbothered by the inherent filth and dishonesty of it all, rising to your crown on waves of pleasure, both synthetic and carnal. You were a sex goddess, a party queen, an icon of higher living and its immortalizing qualities.

And Jungkook could never keep up. That was a scene so displaced from his normal life that he couldn’t even imagine it. He didn’t belong in your world., and he never would.

So Jungkook sealed away his heart and walked back upstairs where he surrounded himself with the better memories of you and let his soul bleed out in the soft morning light.

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YOUR POV

You woke up a few hours later to Brandon tossing you on floor like a sack of grain.

“I gotta piss,” was all he said as he stood up from the couch and walked to the restroom.

“Ass,” you called after him.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Yoongi said, descending the staircase. “Ready to work on the album?”

“Yeah, let me just go get dressed.”

***************************************************************************************

The first writing session went fairly smooth. You talked about concepts and possible tracks, always making sure that the boys were as involved in the prosses as possible.

But throughout the course of the day, you couldn’t help but notice that Jungkook seemed to be avoiding you.

He made a point not to be close to you and would only answer you in one-word responses. You shoved the resulting gnawing feeling away because you were working, but once the session was finished and they boys left you alone, your mind couldn’t help but drift back to Jungkook.

Is he still embarrassed about the other morning?

No, we settled that.

Is it about the cuddling last night?

No, he seems more mad than embarrassed...

Is it something I did?

Should I talk to him?

Thoughts tornadoed around your head, so loud and forceful you felt like your skull might burst.

Just then, your stomach growled, so you got up, deciding it was late enough in the day for dinner.

You left your writing studio and headed towards the kitchen, but before you got there you were met by dozens of people carrying what looked to be party supplies through your house.

“What the…” you started, but then saved your breath. You already knew who to yell at.

“BRANDON!” you yell, stomping past a procession of men carrying kegs and straight to the backyard, where you found the Party General himself signing for a giant chocolate fountain on the patio.

“Yes darling?” He asked innocently, not even deigning to look up from his paperwork.

“What the hell is this?” you hissed, gesturing to a giant ice sculpture of a fish being placed in the yard.

He handed the clipboard back to a young man in a uniform who took it and left, leaving the two of you alone.

“Well,” he says, looking over his sunglasses at the ice sculpture and then back at you, “I believe it’s a koi.”

You resist the urge to slap him. “Every day I grow closer and closer to killing you in your sleep.”

“Oh, goodie.” He says. “I do love surprises.”

“Clearly,” you seethe, gesturing to the party decorations throughout the yard.

For a moment, neither one of you speaks. Brandon merely stares at you with mirthful innocence as you glare at him and fantasize about playing air hockey with his kneecaps.

“Since when are we throwing a party?” you demand finally.

“Since a few hours ago,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal.

“And when were you going to tell me?” you demand.

He shrugs again. “You were working, I didn’t want to bother you.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, how very noble of you.”

“Why thank you,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with delight at your obvious rage. “I’m inclined to agree.”

“Did Caleb agree to this?” you demand, trying to figure out if you had an ally or not.

Brandon snorts. “He’s the one who came up with the idea. I just made it better.”

You stare at him, trying to sort your jumbled emotions into a coherent thought.

He reaches over and pats you on the cheek. “You should go get dressed. People will be here around nine.” And with that, he walks away to intercept a courier carrying a large floral wreath.

What even was the theme Brandon was going for anyway?

You decided that you had no choice but to go along with it, however pissed you were for being left in the dark. So, you trudged upstairs, nervous that Jungkook might be in your room, and wondering what you’ll say to him if he is.

You weren’t sure if you were elated or disappointed to find him missing. You tried not to think about it at all.

Instead, you threw yourself into getting ready, finding peace in your makeup routine. You decided on a natural eye and a red lip that perfectly matched your favorite red party dress.

It was made of a satin material that reminded you more of a nightgown than a dress, but you liked the way it shimmers under party lighting. But what you really loved about this dress was the cut outs right below your breasts that showed just enough underboob to be alluring, but still tasteful. You threw on some gold gladiator stilettos and the layered gold pendant Brandon had gotten for you for your birthday last year. Lastly, you braided your hair and coiled it around your head, making it appear like a crown. By the time you descended the staircase a little after nine, the party was already in full swing.

You immediately spot Kenzie in the hallway and ignore the gaping stares of unfamiliar party goers whose eyes you feel on your body from a room away.

“Y/N!” Kenzie squeals, spotting you. “We were just about to come find you!” she says, pulling Arthur towards you.

“You found me,” you say weakly. “Now let’s get me a shot. Or six.”

Kenzie furrows her brow. “Oh god, what happened today? Did the writing session go poorly or something?”

“No,” you reply with a shake of your head. “It went great actually. I’m just in a weird mood.”

You can tell by the hesitation in her face that she doesn’t quite believe you, but she sees something in you that doesn’t make her push further, and instead, dutifully pours you six very full shots of vodka, which you don’t hesitate to drink.

You had spotted Jungkook a few times, but he was always too far away to ever go to him, so you had stayed mostly with Kenzie and Arthur until they disappeared to go make out somewhere.

You found yourself alone in the kitchen, staring at your phone, until someone was suddenly standing right in front of you. You look up and meet Brandon’s drunken smile as he wiggles a small bag of white powder in your face.

“Wanna do some coke with me?” he asks, his grin all teeth.

You stare at the coke for a second, weighing your options. But ultimately, what have you got to lose? Not much these days.

“Sure,” you shrug. “You cut the lines.”

Brandon makes a very drunken high-pitched noise you think is supposed to be a squeal as he clears a space on the island and pulls out his wallet.

He goes first, using a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill to inhale the fine white powder from the marble.

You go next, wordlessly taking the rolled-up dollar as Brandon sniffs next to you. You do one line, and then another, wincing slightly as the drug bit the back of your throat.

The high is almost instantaneous, energy suddenly gracing your jittery nerves.

You turn to Brandon, his eyes twinkling and his smile giddy as you reach up and wipe a bit of cocaine from right below his nose. You pop your finger in your mouth, rubbing all over your gums until that familiar numb feelings takes a hold of your mouth.

“Hey, I got you this,” Brandon slurs, obviously very, very fucked up. He outstretches a shaky finger to trace the necklace you wear, taking the jeweled pendant at the end between his thumb and his index finger.

You chuckle. “I thought Caleb picked it out.”

“But I paid for it!” he protested, swaying slightly. “And just because he saw it first doesn’t mean he picked it out. I have good taste.”

You laugh. “Yeah, okay, your one virtue is good taste in jewelry, I’ll give you that.”

He leaned in close, his mouth almost touching the shell of your ear. From here, you could smell the tequila on his breath. “Don’t look now, but Jungkook is staring at us,” he whispered too loudly to really be considered a whisper.

You whirl around to follow where Brandon is looking, but you only catch Jungkook’s broad back as he walked away from you.

Brandon smacked your thigh. “I told you not to look!”

By now you’re frowning after Jungkook and Brandon really is in no mood to deal with your stubborn crush, so when you turn around, Brandon is gone.

You wonder how much Jungkook saw.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him knowing about your partying habits, you just didn’t want him to find out like this. You were afraid that he might see you as irresponsible or immature, as many people did when you merely mentioned the word ‘cocaine’. You realized with no small amount of discomfort that you actually cared what he thought about you. You didn’t like this new feeling.

You head back out into the party, hoping to find Jungkook and maybe talk to him, but before you can accomplish that, a group of friends call you over, and you abandon yourself to the revelry, letting the drugs in your system wash through you with a euphoric high.

***************************************************************************************

The good thing about coke is that it hits fast.

The bad thing about coke is that it’s over fast.

Soon, your limbs felt heavy, the day’s work and evening full of wrecking your body finally taking its toll. You slip away from your friends, desperate to go upstairs and get away for a moment.

The piano music greeted you before you even set foot in your bedroom.

It was a sad melody, a tune that sang of loss and heartache and a sorrow so soul-deep it left scars.

You softly cracked the door to your room open to see Jungkook seated at the piano, his long fingers dancing gracefully over the keys. He had his back to you, his shoulders curved inward as if burdened by an invisible weight.

You realized that you should probably say something to alert him of your presence. The moment was too personal, too intimate, to be unknowingly shared, but the soft music was hypnotic in the way that it pulled you in. And then he started singing, and your soul shattered.

It was just a hum, a simple melody over the agonizing notes of the piano, but the emotion it carried was undeniable, like the suggestion of words without actually speaking.

And to you, that said more than any word in any language could. There were moments sometimes where the saddest of music was too happy for what you felt inside, where silence was the only tune your heart could bare as it struggled to find the will to beat.

The song wrapped itself around your very bones, the sorrow in the notes squeezing until you thought your skeleton would turn to dust. You didn’t know you were crying until a tear dripped down your neck and chest. And then one tear turned into many as the rising tide of sorrow that lived deep in your stomach threatened to drown you, and you choked on a sob loud enough that Jungkook stopped playing and whirled around.

You took the split second of his surprise to contain yourself, to push those horrible demons back into their little box inside your soul and lock them away for as long as you could manage.

Your eyes met Jungkook’s from across the room, where you watched surprise and sorrow mingle in his brown irises.

“Sorry,” you choked out, clearing the tears from your throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt; I just needed some air.” You swallowed thickly, hoping he didn’t notice.

He dropped your gaze like it had wounded him, and instead looked out the windows on your balcony towards the sea. “It’s okay. You didn’t interrupt anything important.” He eyed you carefully and you had to resist the urge to squirm under his knowing gaze. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you murmur, fidgeting in the doorway. “That melody was beautiful. What was it?”

There was a pause before he responded. “Nothing. I was just messing around on the piano.”

“Well, you should mess around more,” you said, your voice soft. “That was seriously good. It was like, hauntingly beautiful.”

Another pause. “You think?”

“I know so. I am a producer after all,” you murmured. “You should work on it tomorrow at the writing session.”

“Maybe,” was his reluctant response. He said nothing else.

In the silence that followed you moved to stand in the middle of the floor.

Jungkook remained seated at the piano, lost in thought. “You love him, don’t you?” he asked, doing nothing to hide the note of angry reluctance in his tone, like a cornered animal knowing it lost.

“What?” you asked, staring at his profile.

“Brandon. You love him and he loves you. It’s obvious.”

Annoyance flared through you. “God, why do people keep asking me that?”

“Because, Y/N!” Jungkook exploded. “Everyone sees the way you two look at each other, how close you are, the way you act around each other, and it’s obvious to everyone except you two at this point that you’re in love and don’t care about the rest of us commoners.” He spat the last couple words like they were poison on his tongue.

“What are you talking about? Of course I love Brandon, he’s my best friend. I love Caleb too! We all live together! We’re friends. But just because I care about someone does not mean I’m in love with them.” The annoyance inside you was slowly building to anger as you sank deeper and deeper into yourself.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jungkook spat, taking a step closer to you. “I see the way you touch him, the way he touches you. There’s nothing platonic about that, Y/N.”

“That’s just the way we are with each other, we’re touchy people, not that my friendship with Brandon is any of your business,” you reply, ice coating your words.

“It is my business when you keep shoving it in my face!” he hissed. “And you never touch anyone else that way,” he added, almost as though it were an afterthought. He took another step towards you and you could now smell the beer on his breath.

“Oh, is that what this is about? You’re jealous?” you demand, the alcohol and drugs in your system loosening your tongue. There was something hopeful in your words, just as much as there was malice. You wanted to hurt him, but you also hoped that maybe you were right and maybe he was jealous. Maybe this wasn’t just a friendship.

You so desperately hoped it wasn’t. You found yourself willing to give anything to have him, and the thought scared you.

Somewhere in your head you knew that you had been in love with him for a while now, but it had never really clicked until tonight.

You found yourself staring at the defined lines of his jaw when he wasn’t looking, or the cute way he crinkled his nose when he thought something was really funny. You were fascinated with the way his shirt would brush up against the powerful lines of his muscled abdomen, something you found yourself yearning to see in full. You loved the smooth way he moved, like water, with his fluid dancer’s grace, even when he was doing the most basic of actions.

You loved the way your soul felt lighter around him, the way you felt better, more whole in his presence. He was like a balm for your wounded, broken soul.

You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed at your words.

“Is that what you want, Jungkook?” you demand, your voice low. “Do you want me to cuddle with you on the couch, and sit on your lap in the hot tub, and put my arms around you like this when I’m drunk?” you ask, closing the remaining space between you two and twinning your arms around his neck. Up close, you could see the flush of his tan skin, and the way his pupils were blown out to hide the brown of his irises. His breath fanned across your face; his mouth frozen in the shape of an O. His body trembled beneath your touch.

Logically, you knew this was a very bad idea. He’s your friend, and nothing more. You’re producing his album, its wildly unprofessional. You should stop.

But you threw caution to the wind and you slid your hands down his muscled arms and gripped his wrists, trying not to meet the intensity of his gaze, as you moved his hands to the small of your back, slightly lower than what would be considered proper. The back of your party dress was cut low, and his hands grazed painfully slow across your bare skin, leaving tingling trails of electricity in their wake.

“Is this what you want Jungkook? Do you want to touch me?” you whispered into his ear, your mouth millimeters away from the skin right below his ear. “Because you can. I want you to.”

“You… want me to?” he choked out, his body becoming very still.

“Yes,” you murmured, pulling back to look at the starved look in his eye.

His grip tightened around your middle, pulling you flush against his muscled chest, like he had finally realized that this—that you—were real. “Y/N, I- “

The sudden knock on the door had him releasing you and stepping away, your body suddenly robbed of the warmth he radiated.

Both of you stared at the floor as the door slowly opened and the sounds of the party permeated the dulled silence. Taehyung stuck his head through the door, the rest of his figure following soon after.

“Hey,” he asked, closing the door softly behind him. “I just came up here to check on Jungkook. Is everything okay?”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Taehyung,” Jungkook snaps. He’s standing so still, his eyes so full of fire, that it honestly scares you a little bit.

“Hey,” you snap at Jungkook, letting your own anger slip its leash. “Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you get to take it out on him.”

Jungkook’s eyes flare as his focus goes back to you. “What? Are you going to sleep with Taehyung, too?”

Before you really know what you’re doing, you slap Jungkook right across the face.

Taehyung sucks in a breath from behind you, but he doesn’t move from his spot.

Jungkook slowly turns to look at you, disbelief plainly etched across his face. “Did you just slap me?”

“And? Did you not deserve to be slapped?” you demand, not yielding a single inch.

You and Jungkook stare wordlessly at each other; Taehyung using this moment to quietly excuse himself.

Even after the door clicks quietly shut behind you, neither of you speak, choosing instead to stare into each other’s faces, daring the other to talk.

You observe the scowling lines of his face, the tears pricking the corner of his eyes, and you realize he looks more betrayed than mad.

And it breaks your heart to see him look like that.

“What the hell was that?” you finally demand, breaking the silence.

“I should be the one asking you that,” He huffs, eyes flashing with hesitation.

“What is up with you? Why are behaving like this?” you ask, your eyes narrowing up at him.

He takes a step closer, placing the sharp curves of his collarbone mere inches from your face. A wicked part of you wonders how soft his skin would feel under your lips, what kind of moans would slip past his lips if you kissed just the right spot.

“You were the one who made me touch you,” he says, his voice breathy but still angry.

You were the one who made me touch you.

His words are like ice water on your skin. A sinkhole opens up inside your chest, but this time you do not fight it, you simply let it suck you in.

“Did you not want me to?” you ask quietly, but not softly.

His eyes become unreadable. “Why would I want to touch you like that?”

Everything stops. You feel the repulsion in his voice in your very bones. Suddenly your head becomes incredibly loud.

You’re tired. You are so fucking tired of this hurt, this rejection, from everyone in your life—especially yourself.

You fucked up and it’s probably cost you one of the most important relationships in your life. And now you had to live with that.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be doing it again,” you say flatly, your voice devoid of any emotion. You felt yourself shutting down.

You realize you’ve let your mask fall—the façade you cloak yourself in to mask the pain that’s always lurking just below the surface. You typically don’t let people see you like this—the real you. The dark truth of your heart.

He’s looking at you with a mixture of hurt and anger and you can’t stand the way his eyes search your face with feverish unfamiliarity.

You can’t bear to stand here with him anymore, not when you feel your heart shattering into little pieces.

It’s over.

You fucked up.

Live with it.

You don’t say a single word as you lock yourself in the bathroom; he lets you walk away.

You turn on the shower so no one can hear you cry, and you scream into a towel until your heart feels empty and your limbs are heavy.

You don’t see Jungkook for the rest of the night.

[snarkwrites]

08 | gangsta ; sweet pea

Notes:

SO.. I uhh... Got super into writing this recently. I just really liked where it was heading after part 7. Yes. Yes, I realize that literally no one asked for more of this but.. I wrote it. Might as well share it.

I need to amend what I said about this being non canon compliant. It does mention things that happen in canon. Some of them even.. Happen. But differently. And a little out of order as I saw they fit into my own personal timeline. Also.. I’m gonna throw in some totally of my own creation stuff into here as well. I don’t exactly know what all that’ll be yet, but.. Yeah.

This is the first of four parts I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway.

Warnings:

non canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tensionstarting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…eventual sexual content / a virgin original character- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven -  soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

                                             EIGHT.

“ Al?”

I turned down my radio and strained to hear. It almost sounded like Polly calling my name from the bottom of the stairs. I wandered over to my bedroom door, peeking out. Polly stood at the foot of the stairs, holding her twins on each hip. A smile played at my lips and I bounded down the stairs, launching myself into a careful hug. Fussing over the twins because I’d been dying to see them since the night Polly added me on Snapchat before everything went down the way it did.

She’d sent me a message that night, telling me she was pregnant and that she and Jason were leaving. She’d been planning to swing through Chicago with Jason and visit, on their way to wherever it was they’d planned to go. When it never happened and I didn’t hear from her again, I’d been worried for a while.

Then Betty realized that she’d been keeping in touch with me over Snapchat right after she went missing and she’d messaged me, asking if I’d seen Polly. When I told her I hadn’t and asked what was going on, she’d filled me in on everything.. Jason’s death and Polly’s fight with their parents and then Polly running away.

The rest filled itself in when I moved back in with my dad, for the most part. I found myself trying to stick close to Cheryl, because I knew she was taking it really hard. Because Jason had been like the third of us. Honestly, it hit me pretty hard too when I found out. Especially when Cheryl did that thing she always fucking does and tried to push me away. Tried to deal with it herself.

I’d given myself over to the thought Polly wasn’t ever going to return to Riverdale, so I was a little shocked that she was here. And staying under the same roof as her mom again.

“The last thing Betty told me was that you were living on a farm. I bet that was peaceful.” I stretched and smiled at her. Just imagining the lazy days that probably stretched on and on. The slow and quiet life.

Polly smiled, nodding. “I learned so much there.”

I nodded. “What was it like?”

We moved to sit on the couch and Polly began to tell me what she’d been up to. I listened, nodding and smiling. But the entire time she described this place, God help me, I found myself getting flashbacks to the true crime podcast I’d listened to about the Jonesboro cult. Or the Davidians from Waco.

I mean… it sounded harmless enough, but everything she told me about the place just made me think less of a commune and more of a cult type setting. And that had me worried.

The front door was being pounded on. When I heard Reggie calling my name through it, I grumbled. Polly gazed at the door and then at me. Smirking. “No way! I always thought you and Reggie would be cute together!”

“Whoa.. Let’s not get all happy.” I shook my head, frowning a little. Telling her in detail what actually happened and that we were broken up. She shook her head, frowning. “That’s a jerk move. Betty told me you were on the Vixens now?”

“Yeah. You know Cheryl. She’s always had a way of talking me right into shit I normally wouldn’t do. And Riverdale High didn’t exactly have a gymnastics team like my old school in Chicago, so I decided rather than go rusty and lose my edge, I’d join.” I shrugged, laughing and shaking my head. “It’s not so bad, I guess.”

She nodded to my outfit for the day. Ripped jeans, a Motley Crue t shirt and my favorite boots, my dad’s old plaid shirt. “You mean the other Vixens haven’t read you for filth for daring non conformity?”

“ Oh, there’s this one girl I’m dying to get my hands on when we do that powderpuff football game on Friday, but other than her, nobody really seems to care or notice? I’m just kinda.. There. Which believe me… is totally fine with me.” 

I bent down to pick up Dagwood so that Polly could feed Juniper because she was crying. Adjusting Dagwood to my hip, I made my way over to the door, throwing it open. Scowling up at Reggie, who was leaning against a porch post.

His gaze softened when he glanced at me. I bit my lip. Taking a deep breath to keep my patience. I knew he was hurting. I knew it was also totally his fault. But I was trying not to be mean.

“What do you want?”

“Are you seriously dating that fucking guy now? Princess, he’s only going to hurt you.”

“No worse than you already have. But no.. No Reggie, I’m not dating Sweet Pea. I just fell asleep in Mr. Keaton’s class and I happened to wind up leaning against the guy. Kind of happens when I stay up until 3 watching the Saw movies.”

He looked as if he didn’t believe a thing I said. I shrugged because honestly, I didn’t care if he believed me or not. Shifting Dagwood from one hip to the other. Bouncing him a little, giving a soft laugh when he grinned up at me. And raised his little hand to try and grab a handful of the ends of my hair.

“ That guy is bad news, princess. If I have to, I’ll talk to your dad. Anything if it means keepin you from gettin seriously hurt. Or worse, put in danger.”

“Reggie, you need to go.” I rolled my eyes. “I should get back inside. Get Dagwood back to his mommy.”

Reggie was giving me this soft look again. Nodding. Like he was lost in thought. I snapped my fingers in his face and cleared my throat. “You need to go, Reggie. I’m not kidding. The more you pop up and try to force me to deal with this, the less it makes me want to, okay? I need space. Time.”

“It’s just so hard, princess. Then I see you around with him and damn it, I hate the way I acted and the fact that I ruined everything.” Reggie admitted quietly. I nodded. “Just give me space.”

“I’ll try.” he promised, turning, walking down my porch steps. From the doorway, Polly spoke up.

“Sweet Pea.. He’s a Serpent, right? Jason mentioned him once or twice.” Polly asked as she reached out for Dagwood and gave me Juniper to hold.

I settled Juniper on my hip and gazed at Reggie’s retreating back. Sighing and shaking my head sadly. I just wish he’d understand that the more he tries to force himself on me right now, the less I want to deal with everything. And I don’t want to lose a friend.

I diverted my gaze and turned to face Polly, nodding. “Yeah. I got paired with him in Biology. It’s been interesting, to say the least.” I sank down to sit on a bench my father built, laughing as I shook my head. Cooing at Juniper. 

Polly cleared her throat. “Out with it, Alyssa Jean. I know that look too well, okay? And as your friend, I need to tell you now that the Serpents aren’t people you mess around with lightly. Not to mention, that whole thing with that guy Dave you had going in Chicago. The scary guy? The reason your mom freaked out and sent you here to live in the first place, most likely?”

“It’s nothing. It’s dumb.” I shook my head. Shifting Juniper around in my lap. Bouncing my legs a little to make her grin and reach up. “Dave was scary. And I’m starting to see that my mom did a good thing sending me here. I’m just glad he hasn’t tried to reach out to me.” I shivered a little, raising a hand to drag it through my hair. Gazing at Polly.

“The Serpents aren’t all bad.” I spoke up after a few seconds.

“Al, half of them already have rap sheets. I just don’t want you getting mixed up with them and getting hurt. Promise me you’ll at least give anything you’re thinking a lot of thought instead of just diving in and doing it?” Polly eyed me in concern. Mostly to appease her, I nodded.

“As far as Reggie.. I think he really regrets what he did.” Polly advised. Giving me a smile. Clearly trying to steer me in a particular direction. I know she was doing it with the best of intentions, but deep down, it struck a nerve or two. Because literally anyone I could think of save for Cheryl and Toni, they all seemed hell bent on steering me clear of Sweet Pea. Which was ironic, considering I really don’t see him ever even giving me a second look. Even more ironic when you stop to consider that it’s not like I’m openly throwing myself at the guy...Or that I’ve pretty much made up my mind that if I do feel anything for him, I can’t ever actually tell him, because it will ruin everything.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I decided against it. Polly gave me a soft smile, getting a dreamy look in her eyes as she spoke again. “The look he was giving you just now, Al.. If you gave him half a chance… you could be as happy as Jason and I were. Or as happy as I was raising my sweet angels at the Farm. You should come to a meeting with me.”

I shook my head quickly to that one. “I am.. Not into organized religion. I barely go to the services at the church here unless my dad really wants me to go with him. Besides.. We both know that I got up to enough sketchy stuff in Chicago that if I were to step foot in a religious building, lightning might just strike me down.”

“You weren’t that bad, Al. Everyone makes mistakes.” Polly laughed softly. Nodding to her twins as she mused, “Which one of us got knocked up, hm? And we both know how fast that gets you written off here.”

“ I know I wasn’t that bad, but also at the same time, it scares me now to think back and remember how much fun I had when I was in over my head, doing things I knew I shouldn’t ? As far as you getting pregnant and what this town thinks about it. Honestly, fuck ‘em. You and Jason were really in love. That’s what matters.” 

“We really were. But it was hard.” Polly admitted quietly. Adding as an afterthought, “ I really miss him sometimes.”

“Yeah. Me too. Pretty sure he’d have helped Archie drill Reggie’s head into the floor when it got around exactly why Reggie was even dating me to begin with. It was ridiculous. Took Jughead and Kevin to pull the two apart.” I gave a quiet laugh, shaking my head. 

Alice was calling for Polly and Polly grumbled, raising up to peek out the window. “I better go over there and see what she wants. I wanted to come over. Maybe I can come by again later or something?” Polly asked as she gathered Juniper and Dagwood, re-swaddling them against her. I smiled, nodding. Following her to my door, letting her out and locking the door again behind me once I saw her disappear inside her parents house.

XXX

“They’re going to tear down South Side.”

The words had Sweet Pea tensing because it was just another thing he’d be losing. It wasn’t enough apparently, that he was living in the Wyrm because he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have family willing to take him. His mother hadn’t spoken to any of them in years. He barely saw his mother as it was, she’d come home for a day, a week tops and then she’d be gone again.

He gazed over at Fangs, processing what Fangs was telling him. “First it was closing the school down. Then it was our homes. What next, huh? What else do we have to get taken?”

Jughead wandered into the Wyrm and Sweet Pea scowled a little. It didn’t matter how much Jughead was trying to do for the gang, what he was accomplishing was the opposite of what needed to happen. “The fuck is he doing here?” Sweet Pea nodded to Jughead.

“He’s one of us, man.” Fangs reminded Sweet Pea. Glancing at Jughead as Jughead made his way over. He’d probably just heard the news about South Side High too. Though Fangs didn’t see why it mattered

“Only because of FP. Cherry’s more one of us than he is. I still say the second we’re not useful he’s going to bitch out and turn his back.”  Sweet Pea grumbled.

Fangs chuckled, shaking his head. Sweet Pea hadn’t ever made a secret how he felt about Jughead. And he certainly hadn’t taken it easy on the guy when they initiated him into the Serpents not so long ago, either.

Jughead sat down next to where Fangs was standing, grabbing himself a drink from behind the counter and pulling the tab. Taking a long sip.

“We have to do something. They’re taking everything from us.” Jughead spoke up angrily.

“I’d like to point out they’re your friends.” Sweet Pea spoke up, a harsh tone as he glanced over at Jughead.

“I’d like to point out that we all know you have a thing for one of them. If you’re going to sit there and pin this on the North Side like usual, I mean. At least own up to that.” Jughead retorted, watching Sweet Pea’s fists clench and his face twist into an angry mask. Trying to keep himself from laughing as it happened.

Sweet Pea having feelings for Alyssa wasn’t quite as well hidden as the guy thought.

The only one who didn’t seem to be aware of it was Alyssa herself. It amused Jughead.

It did not amuse Alyssa’s brother.

And the two had already had several heated conversations about him hanging around Alyssa so much that Jughead had to intervene on more than one occasion.

“I keep telling you idiots I don’t. I’d trust her before I would you, Jones. If we’re going there.” Sweet Pea muttered.

“Whatever you say, Pea. Can we stop arguin? Maybe start thinkin about what the fuck we’re gonna do?” Fangs patted his friend on the shoulder and Sweet Pea glared up at him.

“A hunger strike. We chain ourselves to the school. They can’t demolish it if we’re not moving.” Jughead suggested.

Fangs and Sweet Pea shared a look. Neither were sure their idea would work. But maybe it could buy them some time. Or get attention to the issues at hand… The more attention they drew to the fact that certain people were trying to use their money to completely run an entire neighborhood out of town, the better their case.

“That’s not the worst idea.”

“I hate what I’m about to say.” Sweet Pea paused, grimacing as he added, “It’s not. It’ll get attention on what’s happening. I hated saying that, fuck.” 

“Let me go talk to the others. We’ll reconvene at 9 tonight?”

Fangs and Sweet Pea nodded and Jughead went to talk to some of the other Serpents.

“That killed you, didn’t it buddy?” Fangs teased Sweet Pea.

“Fuck you, Fogarty.” Sweet Pea snapped, grumbling to himself. “Doing somethin is better than just sitting back and lettin them take everything, I guess.” 

And at 9:30 pm that night, Jughead, Fangs, Sweet Pea and Toni as well as several other former South Side students met at their old school. Chaining themselves to the fence in protest.

[ijustwant2write]

All Because Of A Tantrum-Sigurd Ragnarsson x Reader x Ivar Ragnarsson

(GIF credit to @heathenarmyimagines​ and @honestsycrets​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Possessive Ivar x Fem!Reader x Sigurd, please?’

Summary: (Y/N) and Sigurd have been married for a short time, all for an alliance between their families; she is a wild spirit, which Sigurd loves to tame, but Ivar can’t help but let her be free.

Characters: Sigurd Ragnarsson x Reader, Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Slight smut, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, fighting

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had all been because of a tantrum from the infamous Ivar the Boneless. Anyone would think from that sentence that Ivar was a child, but unfortunately he was a young man, the brother to my husband. 

Sigurd and I had been married for just over a month, and that is exactly how long we had known each other for. Like most marriages for people with a higher status, it was arranged by our parents, but I had grown up around this all my life. I was not bothered by it. If any man thought they could control me, I would like to see them try, and come out unscathed. My parents knew of this, they wouldn’t have married me off otherwise.

Sigurd was a good man, arrogant at times but by the gods, the sex was good. And I couldn’t complain, he was kind to me. I thought myself to be a good wife in the public eye; yes I was challenging, but where was the fun in being good all the time? 

“And where do you think you’re going so early?” I grabbed Sigurd’s shoulder as he tried to leave the bed.

He sighed in content.“I have other things to do than fucking you, you know.”

I shoved him.“Fuck you, you’re supposed to be making love to me.”

“Oh yes, sorry, forgot that it was my brother that did the fucking.”

I giggled.“Still jealous, even after the agreement we made.”

“Do you think husbands like their wives being taken by other men?”

“Well, a lot of men do it, so I guess they are completely fine with it.”

He smirked at me, pushing me onto my back. I hummed in amusement, wriggling underneath him until he kissed me. I had him in my grasp, wrapping my legs around his waist tightly, pulling him towards me.

“You’re too sneaky for me.” Sigurd mumbled, not protesting against my hold.

“And you always seem to fall into my traps.”

“My temptress.”

After spending a majority of the morning with Sigurd, we finally emerged from our home into Kattegat. Sigurd went off to train, kissing me one last time before joining his friends in the forest. No more attention for me, how boring. As an idea popped into my head, I smiled to myself, heading to the great hall; there was definitely going to be someone there that would want to see me. Ivar had a soft spot in my cold heart. He was misunderstood, different, had strong opinions (that could make him sound like a crazy man), and that interested me. He wasn’t like everyone else, he was special. Aslaug and I shared that image of him.

However, as I entered the hall, he was nowhere to be seen. I called out his name, walking around. No reply. Huffing, I walked back outside, asking a guard if they had seen him. They informed me he was training in the forest, and my heart beat a little faster. If Ivar was with Sigurd, with weapons, it could only end badly, perhaps with someone getting hurt. This was the usual for me, having to split up their fights before it escalated too much. I rode my horse to their training grounds, gradually hearing the clashes of swords and grunting over the horses hooves hitting the ground. Once it was tied up next to the other horses, I picked up my skirts and ran towards the men, groaning when I spotted the two men doing exactly what I thought they would be.

“Shut your mouth!” Ivar shouted, gripping onto the axe in his hand.

“Now I understand why (Y/N) needs me to fuck her so much, you’re obviously not satisfying her. I was sympathetic towards you, thinking my wife might make your life a little better.”

“Urgh, are you two ever going to stop this?” I moaned as I approached them.

Their brothers and friends laughed under their breaths, knowing that I wouldn’t hold back. And they wouldn’t dare snap back at me.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?” Sigurd asked.

“I can always sense when you two are on the verge of killing each other. Sometimes I think Odin put me in your lives to keep the four Ragnarsson’s alive.”

“Perhaps you are a goddess on Earth.” Hvitserk cheekily remarked.

“Would that really be a surprise?”

Ivar’s tone was calmer, though there was still spite.“Your husband seems to want to spread lies about me. Tell him the truth.”

“About what?”

“About bedding you. How I can make you scream louder than Sigurd could.”

I sighed.“You both fuck me just fine.”

The men laughed, Sigurd and Ivar staring at me in disbelief. 

“Maybe I should remind you, prove you wrong.” Ivar snarled.

I rolled my eyes, already walking away.“Anything to keep you two away from each other.”

The men became rowdy after this, and I could hear Ivar dragging himself after me. The power I held was amazing. Men always bragged about how great they were, how strong and powerful they could be, yet here these two men drooled over me, fighting for the most attention. 

“Why would you say that?” Ivar snapped once we made it back to Kattegat.

I flopped onto the cushions sprawled over the rugs on the floor.“Ivar, it does not matter what I said. My plan worked.”

“What plan?” he was now laying beside me.

“The plan to stop you two killing each other. It would be devastating to lose either of you.”

“You would mourn over me for longer.”

"Do not boost your ego anymore than you already have." I smiled, filling over to face him.

He stared at my eyes."What do you see in my brother?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you love me?"

“Yes.”

“You are lying.” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“No I’m not. Why would you say that?”

“Why would you love a cripple when you are already married to a regular man?”

“There is no such thing as a regular man.” I started, propping up onto my elbow.“All men are bastards.”

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“Ivar, why should love be restricted? It never has been in our history. I cannot contain my love for just one man. I bedded many men before I even met Sigurd.”

“I thought you were a virgin when you married Sigurd?”

“My parents still thought I was. It would crush father if the dowry were low.”

That made Ivar laugh.“I wish it were me you were married to.”

“You would grow bored of me.”

“I believe that the Gods wanted to torture me by putting you here with my brother.”

“Of course not. You are being over dramatic.”

“I should have had you.” he held my hand.“Sigurd doesn’t deserve you. You would have been more of a queen by now if I had you!”

“I am yours. Just because I have been united with your brother, does not mean you can’t have me, or take me whenever you please.”

“I am Ivar, son of Ragnar. I am a prince! I deserve you, you are mine!”

Scooting closer, I laid my head on his chest, shushing him gently. I could hear his heart beat racing, pace of breath quickening as he worked himself up.

“Yes, you are. You deserve everything and more. And just think, everyone will know your name once you and your brothers defeat Aelle, avenging your fathers death!”

“They will be under my command.”

“Yes.”

“I will prove my brothers wrong, I am strong enough to do this!” 

“You already are.”

“(Y/N), I want you to bear my children.”

I lifted my head, surprised by his statement.“Ivar, I don’t know how Sigurd would feel-”

“You said you loved me, you said your love was not restricted!”

“Yes, but I would still have to ask my husband. We have to ensure that your heirs wouldn’t set out to kill one another.”

“I don’t care. I want to see you pregnant with my child.”

“I am going to ask him.”

“Fine. But just know, I don’t care what he says.”

I had not slept with Ivar that day. Usually when he got worked up like that, he would let out that pent up anger on me (which I thoroughly enjoyed). Instead, we laid together for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was extremely rare to see this side of him, even I had hard time getting it out of him. You had to savour that emotion from it, it made him more human.

His brothers returned from training, all of us sitting down to eat lunch together. It was peaceful as we ate, there were no arguments; one or two snide comments were thrown at each other, but they were brothers, it was normal. I left with Sigurd, arms linked as we silently walked home. Although Sigurd agreed to share me with Ivar, anyone could see he hated it. They despised each other, despite being brothers.

“What happened with Ivar today?” Sigurd asked as we entered the house.

“If you’re asking if we fucked, then no, we didn’t.”

“Good.”

“You made an agreement-”

“I know.”

“You’re both so jealous of each other. All you need to do is think of me, I’m your happy thoughts.” I smirked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He sighed in content as his hands went to my waist.“I’m not jealous.”

“Just promise me you won’t end up killing each other when you form this Heathen Army.”

“We are sons of Ragnar, we will live forever.”

[thewatermelloncat]

Bad Places

A/N: I was inspired to write this after reading a post on Buzzfeed about sexual harassment females have endured in their workplaces. One example hit me deep and I decided to write this in response to it. I wanted to spiel off about how this shouldn’t have a warning because it is unfortunately reflective of the world we live in today. But I have included one because it’s a rough subject to deal with. So, read at your own discretion.

Warnings: Sexual harassment (verbal)

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

The sky of the Isle was beginning to be lit by the first few stars poking through the clouds, as you worked with Harry on the deck of the Lost Revenge. Of course, you hadn’t meant to be working under the light of the stars and the lanterns that glowed from the wharf, but such as the nature of having many things to complete in a day, sometimes things ran later than expected. So here you and Harry were, finishing the day’s tasks before the light of dawn.

The ship was peaceful while you worked without the rush of crew members on the deck. You and Harry didn’t talk much - aside from discussing the task at hand - you didn’t really know each other well seeing as you’d only joined the crew the previous month. He was also much higher than you in rank, and it seemed inappropriate for you to try and make conversation with him. But it was nice to work in silence sometimes.

If only it could have stayed that way.

 At the first sound of a wolf whistle you didn’t think much of it. Boys and men on the Isle weren’t the most considerate when it came to manners, and unfortunately you were used to it. You kept your head down and remained focused on rethreading the sail laid out on the deck. Though your lack of attention seemed to annoy the group, which one of them notified you of in yelling, “Bitch!”

At his words you look up to see a group of four or so young men up on the wharf, looking down at you from the railing. You say nothing, giving them nothing more than a glare before tending back to the sail.

“Come on baby, I could rock your world better than that ship!”

The words call your attention back up to the wharf, where if you’re not mistaken a sexual gesture is being made. In disgust you turn away. With your eyes back on the ship you see Harry stopped where he is working, looking up at them with an annoyed glint in his eyes. But before you can think about that further you instinctively put your head back down and get back to work.

And with the lack of your attention, the young men on the wharf move away.

 The sound of your hammer pounding at the loose nails on the deck had become rhythmic by the time you were disturbed again. It had maybe been an hour since your encounter with the young men, and you’d been stupid to hope it would be the last of the night as a group of middle-aged pirates stumble across the wharf. You can hear them conversing lowly to themselves as you feel their eyes on you.

“What you doing a man’s work for, gorgeous?” one of them calls out leaning on the railing, his friends stopping behind him.

It was clear to you that they’re drunk but it doesn’t make it any better as you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. You don’t dare to look up at them, not wanting to see a group of men over twice your age gawking at you. If you’re honest, you’re expecting them to yell something else out at you, but it’s Harry’s voice that surprises you.

“I’m incredibly flattered, but I am a man” he calls back to them from the other side of the deck from you, stacking boxes.

You can’t help but snicker under your breath at his quick and effortless reply. You’d only seen Harry as a serious figure in the dynamic of the crew, and for him use a sense of humour to deflect a comment off of you without missing a beat filled you with a sense of gratitude.

And it seemed to have its effect as the group of pirates continue to stumble off from the wharf.

 When the next chorus of wolf whistles sounded, you and Harry were working together inspecting the state of the ropes and checking the pully systems on the masts. You tried your best to tune them out and the resulting comments that followed. Harry also seemed to be watching them out of the corner of his eye as you both remained about doing your work. It wasn’t until you both moved to the mizzen that they caught your eye as you walked past them.

“When you get off you should come back to my place and get me off, if you know what I mean?” one called to you before you could avert your eyes. Following their comment, the group around them joined into a performance of sexual noises and inappropriate movements.

At the post of the mizzen you turn away from them but the sound follows you. You keep your head down with your eyes lowered to the ground as your hands mechanically go about checking the tension of the ropes.

Eventually with the lack of reaction the group move along, but still you don’t look up. It isn’t until you hear Harry’s voice that you raise your eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. Somehow the surprisingly caring tone of his voice makes you feel worse.

You nod, though you know he can see through it. You were supposed to be fine. The Isle doesn’t allow for you to be anything else; nothing was supposed to faze you. Men were supposed to behave in that way, it was normal. You had to be strong, you had to be fine. You were fine.

 It was a relief for you to finally be sweeping the deck, it meant your work was almost over. Soon you would be able to return home to rest up before the next day. A smile started to spread on your face at the thought of going to sleep, only for it to drop when you hear a rowdy group of boys parading along the wharf.

You close your eyes in the hope that they’ll pass you by without an incident, surely three in a night was enough. Daringly you hold your breath as if it would help you to maintain hope, only to sigh in despair when it doesn’t work.

“You’re wearing too many clothes. Take them off!” the apparent leader of the group calls out.

Instinctively you hug your coat tighter around your body, wishing that you were suddenly wearing more layers. Just them looking at you, knowing that they were wishing you were baring everything for them to see, made you feel violated.

At your reaction one of the men guffaws and turns to the man who spoke. “Wonder if she’s a virgin” he says hitting his friend on the arm.

You gasp and spin around to the other side of the mainmast post, hiding from their view. The rope tied around it presses into your back uncomfortably as you lean against it, but you don’t care as you push yourself further into the post, wanting to be swallowed up by it. Your world goes fuzzy as the words echo around in your mind, and you’re vaguely aware of panicked breaths expanding in your lungs.

Out of the corner of your eye you half watch as Harry storms to the gangplank holding his hook in a tight grip, but you miss the words he yells at the group before they slink away. The only sound you can hear is the beating of your own heart.

You come to as Harry stands in front of you placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Come on, I’m gonna walk you home.”

At his words you want to protest and remind him that you both still have work to do, but you don’t trust yourself to speak. You want to stay to complete your tasks, showing dedication to the crew, but your drive for survival has kicked in and you just want to get out. So, you hesitate before you nod your head.

 The streets are nearly empty aside from the homeless and those passed out drunk outside of the taverns, as you and Harry walk through the streets of the Isle. He hadn’t said a word since you’d both left the ship, but you hadn’t either. Though you felt his eyes watching over you as you walked.

Nearing the end of the market you step away from the glow of the lanterns on the main street and into the darkness of the alleys. The sudden absence of light doesn’t bother you; you’d walked these alleys plenty of times before. It isn’t until you hear a group of men laughing that you subconsciously step closer to Harry, who reaches over and puts a protective arm around you.

“It’s alright, I got you” he calms, looking down at you.

Although you can’t see the men your heart still pounds in your chest, and without meaning to you shrink into his touch, comforted by the warmth of his arm around you. For the rest of the walk to your home you’re scared that it might leave you, but it never does.

 When you reach the stairs before your rickety loft you expect Harry to leave you there and then, but instead he continues forward guiding you up the steps. And still at the top of the stairs he waits while you fish your key out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“You alright?” he checks again once you’ve stepped through the doorway.

You nod to him with a small smile. “Thanks for walking me home.”

He makes a dismissal noise and shakes his head. “Not a problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow” you agree as you begin to close the door, but you hesitate before it shuts. “Harry?” you ask pushing it back open.

“Yeah?” he says turning around from facing the staircase.

“Uhm” you hesitate again before getting your words together. “Why were you so nice about this? Most guys wouldn’t care, they’d probably join in.”

“I have two sisters” he begins, leaning against the railing. “One older, one younger. I know Harriet has to deal with it already, and it seems like she takes it all in ‘er stride, but I see how it affects her.” he stops, sighing slightly. “I don’t even wanna think about CJ having to go through it when she gets older.”

“Well, at least she’ll have someone like you to protect her through it” you tell him.

“She will” he agrees, a small smile spreading on his face as he looks away from you.

“Good night Harry” you say, drawing the conversation to a close.

Harry nods a goodbye to you before making his way down the stairs and disappearing into an alley. Even long after he’s gone, you look out across the Isle watching the lanterns shining like stars in the streets past the alleys where you live, thinking that maybe the Isle isn’t such a bad place.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Unlikely Parents: Part 1

Pairings: Negan x reader (Jane the Virgin AU), Hotel owner!Negan x Parolee!Reader

Warnings: Artificial insemination, Swearing, Angst

Word Count: 3,539

A/N: Yea, this took on a life of its own.... Not sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I understand what you’re going through.” It took a few moments for those six words to permeate the fog in your brain, but when it did, you looked up at the woman that destroyed your life. 

“You understand what I’m going through.” You repeated, interrupting the speech she had probably spent the past two weeks rehearsing instead of calling you to tell you about her mistake. “YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry.” Your OBGYN, Luisa said as she tried to take a step back away from you, but bumped in to the counter behind her instead.

“I fucking told you!” You screamed as you jumped off the exam table and grabbed your jeans. “I never wanted kid because of my past. And you fucking told me that you would do the fucking hysterectomy when I got out! So why the fuck, am I fucking pregnant Luisa?!”

“I made a mistake.” She said with tears in her eyes as you threw on your clothes.

“Yea, one big fucking mistake.” You huffed as you threw your gown at her. “And now, I’m fucking stuck with your mistake for the rest of my fucking life.” With a shake of your head, you grabbed your purse, and walked out the door with furious tears in your eyes.

——

Your one bedroom Miami apartment looked ten times more grungy than it normally did to you as you dropped your dollar store groceries on the permanently stained counter top in your pathetic excuse for a kitchen. The keys to your hunk of junk car got tossed in the bowl beside your probation officer’s business card, and all of the crap you had carted home with you from prison when you were released. You fished out a package of Ramen from the bag and grabbed one of the mismatched glass bowls from the drying rack on the counter, when someone knocked on the door behind you.

“’s’open!” You yelled before ripping open the bag and dumping it in the bowl. You fished out the flavor packet with a sigh and turned on the sink as you glanced over your shoulder at what you could see of the well dressed man that looked out of place when he stepped into your main room. “What, you my new PO or something?”

“No…” He said hesitantly. “I guess I’m the father of your child. My name is Negan.” You smirked as you pulled open the microwave and put the bowl in. 

“Well, she’s just writing her fucking lawsuit for me, isn’t she?” You asked over the high pitched beeps. 

“I had a private investigator find you. We need to talk…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll terminate if that’s why you’re here.” You interrupted as you grabbed your bags to put away your groceries. “Thing’s making me fucking nauseous anyways…”

“Yea, that’s not fucking happening.” You froze with a stack of Ramen packets in your hand and turned to look at the stranger in your living room for the first time since he had walked in. He shook his head and pulled a check book out of the inside pocket of his expensive looking jacket. “I will pay you five hundred thousand now, and five hundred thousand dollars upon delivery of a healthy child…”

“You what?!” You laughed as you set your food packets down on the counter and put your hand on your hip. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m the father of that child.” He said simply as he looked up at you with his heart on his sleeve. “And that child… it’s the only fucking chance I have at being a father. I had cancer five years ago, and that… sample… is the only one I have left. So what do you want, half a mil? A million? Two? What?” You shook your head as your stomach rolled, and ran past him toward the small bathroom off the kitchen. You threw up what little lunch you had in the permanently stained toilet, and fell back on the tile floor that was missing most of its tile. You could hear your pulse with each retch, and you really wished you had been able to eat more than just a dollar menu burger you had to pay for with dimes while you were out looking for a job. 

“Oh, this is just disgusting.”

“Fuck off.” You groaned before getting sick again. “Fuck this.”

“Please, (Y/N)…” Negan begged as he held out a handkerchief. “Please. I’m literally begging you…”

“Fine.” You sighed. “Whatever. You want the thing? You can have it.” He let out a sigh of relief and nodded his head as you pushed yourself up off the floor to slip past him. “Don’t want your fucking money…”

“OK…”

“Fuck…” You groaned as you headed back out to grab your dinner. “I didn’t fucking want kids…”

“Well, thank you for being a surrogate for mine…”

“Yea, don’t worry about it.” You groaned as you ripped open the flavor packed with your teeth.

“Wait, is that what you’re eating?” You looked up at him through your lashes as you grabbed your only fork from the drying rack.

“What, my prison pallet not good enough for you?”

“It’s not good enough for any human being.” He said as he picked up his check book from the counter and put it back in his pocket. “Just like these living arrangements. I’m putting an end to this if you’re going to be growing my child…”

“What, you’re putting me up in the fucking Ritz?” You laughed as you took a bite of Ramen before the bowl was pulled from your hands.

“Nope. The Marbella.”

——

“Well these are some fancy digs.” You said as you walked around the expensive suite you were calling home for the next nine months. “Waste of a room on me though.”

“Not for you.” Negan grumbled as he watched your probation officer search the room to make sure it was appropriate for the criminal to live in.

“You got a job yet, (Y/L/N)?” Officer Dixon growled as he started pulling mini liquor bottles from the mini fridge, even though you were pregnant and wouldn’t be drinking them anyways.

“She’ll be working for me.” Negan said before you could respond, which made you stop at the open back door to look over at him with your eyebrow raised. “I need a cashier at the pool bar.”

“Whatever.” You huffed as you stepped through the curtain and out on to the balcony. You closed your eyes for a moment to feel the warmth, and looked out at the setting sun sky, something you missed desperately when you were behind bars. You had been out this time for only three weeks after a seven year stint, but this was the first moment you were able to stop and just exist.

“(Y/N)?” A woman asked softly behind you, making you turn away from the rail toward her. The shorter brunette, who was wearing a little black dress, high heels, and pearls smiled at you shyly and held up a small basket. “My name’s Lucille, I’m Negan’s wife. I brought you some things to make the pregnancy a little easier.” You nodded your head and took a step toward the basket she had set down on the table, and didn’t miss the way she took a step back from you at the same time.

“Thanks.” You said as you picked up the Parenting magazine from the top of the pile fanned out across the back. “I’m not going to be a parent. Won’t need this…”

“You’ll be a parent.” She said, slightly hesitantly. “You will just be making the ultimate sacrifice.”

“Yea, well this kid’s probably better off without me in its life. Thanks for this.” You said with a gesture as you ripped open a bag of ‘Preggie Pops’ and used your teeth to pull off the wrapper of one. “Nice meeting you.”

“Did you kill someone?” She asked abruptly as you turned back toward the rail to watch the waves crash along the shore line. Negan barked her name from inside the suite, but you simply rested your arms on the rail and used your tongue to move the lollypop to the other side of your mouth. “W-we saw the drug case from seven years ago, but your juvie record is sealed, and the man you were arrested with is serving life for murder… I just… I have to know…”

“Look, lady. You don’t have to know shit.” You responded as you pulled the sucker from your mouth and looked over your shoulder at her. “My juvie record is sealed for a reason. And trust me, I don’t want me around this kid anymore than you do. So let me do my next section of fucking time in peace, then I’ll be out of your fucking hair forever. ‘K?” She nodded her head and took another step back as you turned back toward the beach and put the lollypop back in your mouth once more. You heard Negan say something to her inside, but you didn’t really care to try to eavesdrop, as your PO stepped out onto the patio.

“You know the drill, (Y/L/N).” He said as he held out a clear plastic cup for you to pee in for a random drug test. With a roll of your eyes, you took the cup from him and headed inside to the bathroom. You didn’t expect Negan to wait around in the living room as you did your drug test, and you cocked your eyebrow at him after officer Dixon had you sign off the paperwork he needed for the drug test and for your new living arraignments.

“I didn’t kill anyone.” You told him as you sat down on the arm of one of the couches near him. “I was sixteen years old and was actually in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don’t expect you to believe me. No one ever does. But I didn’t kill anyone. I just knew the kid who did and gave him a ride to the grocery store he robbed.”

“But you are a fucking drug trafficker.”

“Never once denied that.” You said back as you moved the lollypop to the other cheek. “I moved those pills to try to make some money to get out of the ghetto to do something better with my life and to get away from the accessory to murder charge I caught as a teen. I know what I did and I pled guilty to it because being a felon is apparently all I’m going to be in life. And that’s why I know I can’t be a mother. I’ll never be able to get my feet under me to give a kid a better life, no matter how much I want it. So yea, I’ll have your kid… but being an incubator is all I can do because the cards are stacked against me and have been from the jump.” You looked up at him and shrugged your shoulders. “Thanks for the job. I’ll just work for my room and board…”

“What happened to your parents?” He asked as he sat down on the couch as you stood up to walk away. With a sigh, you turned back around, and sat down on the other couch facing him. 

“Prison.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “I think. Fuck if I know. Ain’t seen either of them since I was in juvie. When I got out at 21, they were gone, and the apartment you found me in was empty and trashed.” He sighed and nodded his head as he tried to figure out what to say next.

“Are you an addict?”

“No, just a trafficker.”

“Are you a threat to my child?”

“Depends.” You breathed as you bit the last part of the sucker and laid the stick on your knee. “With you unnecessarily paying my bills and giving me a job? No, I’m not threat. If I had been left out on the streets? Yea, most likely. I’m up against a wall with a baby I can’t afford to take care of properly. I’ll probably live off dollar store ramen and multivitamins I’ll end up having to steal. The system is rigged.” You groaned as you leaned back against the seat. “Which is why I didn’t want kids. They don’t deserve this fucking cursed life.” He didn’t say a word as he looked at your stomach. You waited a few moments, before clearing your throat, and standing up when your stomach growled. “Guess it’s room service time.”

“Yea, yea you’re probably right.” With a small nod, you took the menu from him as he got up. “If you need anything, call the desk, they’ll put you through to me. Head down to the pool tomorrow at 10am and we’ll get you started at work.”

“Thanks Negan.” He nodded his head but didn’t look back as he walked quickly out of your room and closed the door sharply behind him. 

——

Ever since you were a child, you were never one to make friends. You were the welfare kid, that owned exactly one week’s worth of clothes, who spend most of her time in and out of foster homes because your parents couldn’t be bothered to raise a child neither of them wanted. Despite that, you were still a straight A student until you got arrested. But just like back then, you had absolutely zero intention of making friends at this job. Especially if you were being forced to wear some matching skank dress that Lucille had dropped off that morning, along with makeup, and enough hair products to blow a hole in the ozone. 

“Fucking ridiculous.” You grumbled to yourself as you dropped the bags on the bathroom counter and grabbed a croissant from the breakfast tray that made you grateful beyond words that you were out of prison and eating actual food again. You begrudgingly threw on your work outfit and headed out of your room to head down to your new job- without a single product in your hair and only a single swoop of mascara per eye.

“You must be (Y/N).” A young woman said as you walked up to the counter toward her. “I’m Beth, you’re going to be shadowing me for a couple days.” You startled the slightest bit when she stepped into your personal space, and it took you everything in your being not to yank her backwards by her blonde ponytail to get her away from you. “Lucille told me all about you. Don’t worry, my daddy was in jail for a DUI, too. It’s OK, I won’t tell anyone.”

“That’s nice.” You said with a nod as she finally stepped out of your bubble. 

“OK so this is like… super simple. Everything is automatic. All you have to do is pull up the category of what kind of food it is and then find the name on the tablet and add it to the order. Then you add the numbers of one of the little flags, and you’re all done. Then you just have to pour drinks for the food runners…”

“OK, you fucking get that I’ve spent seven years in prison, right?” You asked as you looked at the tablet she was talking about.

“OK. That’s OK.” She said with an even bigger smile. “So let’s actually look at it, OK?” You sighed loudly in annoyance as she gently pushed you in front of the register. No matter how much she annoyed you, Beth was surprisingly very helpful in quickly catching up on technology you obviously missed, and patiently teaching you the job despite the fact that lunch was pretty busy by the pool. At 2:30, you were finally rescued by someone you didn’t know, who simply told you you needed to head up to the 17th floor.

“Oh, wait!” Beth said as she grabbed the money from the tip jar beside the register you had been out. She quickly counted it out and handed you half with a giant smile. “I work a double so I’ll tip out the kitchen out of my part tonight. See you tomorrow.” You nodded slowly and reached out to take the money from her. You huffed and folded the bills up as you turned in your flats and followed the person to the elevator and up to the 17th floor. 

“You must be (Y/N).” A woman behind a desk said as you stepped out of the elevator. “Mr. Solano is expecting you.”

“Ooo…K?” You said hesitantly as you put your tips in your shallow pocket and followed her into the office behind her desk. Your new boss and baby daddy looked up from his computer and gestured you forward.

“So I’ve spoken to your probation officer.” Negan said as he stood up and grabbed some papers off his printer and set them down on the table between you. “And since you’re carrying my child, I’ve taken it upon myself to become your… like fucking sponsor or some shit.”

“My what?” You laughed as you scooted forward in your chair. “And who the fuck…”

“I’m the fucking father of that child!” He yelled, and you quickly sat back in your chair in shock. “And for the next nine fucking months, you will do as I fucking say so that my child is not born in a fucking prison, do I make myself fucking clear?” You nodded your head as he spread out the pages in front of you and grabbed a pen. “Now, your probation mandates you pay fifty dollars a month for fees, and twelve hundred in restitution and fines. So I’ll pay you twelve an hour, and give you 40 hours a week down stairs. While you are pregnant, I will cover your housing finances so I know my child has a roof over its head, and your food bills so I know it is being fed properly and thrice daily.”

“Why?”

“Your paychecks.” He continued over you as he pointed to the next paper. “Will go to pay off your fines. The rest I will be putting into a savings for you so you can get a place when you give birth…”

“Wait, what do you mean you…”

“Again, looking after my fucking child.” He interrupted. “You will make all of your appointments, with your doctor and with your probation officer. You will make every shift you have at work until a doctor tells you you are no longer able to. You will not leave the hotel without an escort. If you do, I will sue you.”

“You’ll sue me?!”

“You’re carrying precious cargo.” He said as he searched your eyes. “My… precious cargo. And unfortunately, you’re a felon. A felon that I neither know nor trust. How do I know you’re not gunna fucking take off and sell my son or daughter on the black market…”

“OK, hold the fuck on!” You snapped as you leapt to your feet. “Bro, I sold drugs, not fucking babies!”

“You will submit to weekly drug tests outside of the ones mandated by your probation officer…”

“OK, no. Fuck this.” You said as you stepped back away from the desk with tears in your eyes. “No, I want out. I’m not looking to be some prisoner here…”

“You don’t have a choice!” Negan tried as you turned toward the door, but you shook your head and whipped back around.

“Oh, I do have a fucking choice! See, I don’t mind finishing my time in fucking prison. No fucking skin off my back. I know that life a lot better than I know life out here. I’d get three meals a day and a bitch named Betty to suck my clit when I need it. I could also walk out this door and get a fucking abortion at the Planned Parenthood down the road. But I won’t fucking do that. Surprisingly, I’m a halfway decent person despite my shitty upbringing. So please, just because I’m a fucking piece of shit, doesn’t give you the fucking right to treat me as such.” You shook your head and huffed as you looked at the man you didn’t know that was trying to control your life. 

“Don’t worry about me. Just slip a work schedule under my door every week, and I’ll let you know when my probation appointments and doctor visits are unless you’re the one wanting that fucking responsibility too. I don’t really give a shit. I’ve been in prison for seven years and you’re paying for me to live in a hotel with cable I don’t have to share with 20 other bitches, and room service. Don’t want me to leave? That was never a concern. But don’t you think I should have a fucking say in my life, even if I don’t have a say with my reproductive organs right now?” Negan sat a little shocked as you turned toward the door to leave.

“(Y/N)…”

“Don’t fucking bother.” You barked as you ripped open the office door. “Just put my work schedule under my door.”

Part 2

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary prt. 2

A/N I have like five chapters of this written, maybe more. People requested for the second part of it. Please let this entertain you while my brain forgets to write filthy smut.

Word Count: 2,691 

July 26th 2011,

And that was it, The night I lost my first boyfriend, the night I lost my best friend and most importantly my exciting night with George MacKay.

Taylor drove George, Mason and I to McDonald's where we all pigged out on French fries and Vodka laced milkshakes until they kicked us out at one o’clock. Taylor then insisted that they drive me home, no matter how much I insisted I could walk. 

George walked me to my front door, kissed my forehead and thanked me for the night’s entertainment and reminded me that Julian McDonald was nothing, and Sarah was nothing more than a stalker. 

That was ten days ago, He hadn’t asked for my number, he hadn’t added me on Facebook and he most certainly hadn’t shown up at my front door. No matter how much I wished he would. I was stupid for even thinking he would. It was dumb, I know but we connected on that roof, or at least I thought we had. 

Who knows maybe he had some rule about waiting more than ten days. 

July 30th 2011,

Dear Diary, 

This is now a sad sob story. I’m infatuated with a boy I’d spent less than twelve hours with, and it was worse than everyone's current obsession with Justin Bieber. 

August 4th 2011,

Dear future Y/N, 

Today is the day you found out you got into Edinburgh. Congratulations.

Love, 2011 Y/N. 

P.S You’re way still in obsessed with George. 

September 11th 2011,

Dear Diary, 

I think instead of referring to this as you as ‘Diary’ I think I’ll start to open with ‘Dear Future Y/N’ since that’s who this all for. The future Y/N whose probably lost her marbles over worrying about George MacKay and if anything he’d said to her on that day in July meant anything to him like it did to us, past and present Y/N. (And probably future) anyway, 

I guess I should apologise to future Y/N for leaving so long between each entry. I suck at this thing… My bad, for your sake I hope I get better at this. 

But today at least I’m doing something worth remembering. I’m finally moving away from home and spreading my wings, where to you may ask? Well, future Y/N whose lost her marbles, at one point you were smart enough to get into University. Not just any University. As previously mentioned, in my ‘many’ entries (That was sarcasm by the way, just in case you forget It when you get old) I got into Edinburgh University, and today I was officially moving in. 

I walk through the apartment with a huge smile on my face.

There are three bedrooms one shares no walls and is the largest of the three, the other two shares one wall. A small slightly outdated bathroom separated the lone bedroom and the living room, offering some semblance of peace for whoever claimed it. The apartment was finished with a combined living/dining area with a door leading out onto a smallish balcony and a decent-sized kitchen. 

The furniture looked on the newer side. There were some suspicious stains on the settee, and the carpet which to me looked like red wine, but from what I could tell none of our neighbours seemed too loud, nor danced naked on their balcony, not that it wouldn’t be interesting to watch if they did. 

My roommates hadn’t arrived yet when mum, dad and I lugged all my luggage in. Mum and Dad couldn’t stay long once they’d dropped me off, enough to remind me to eat vegetables and take my studies seriously before Dad decided it was time for them to head on home, I didn’t really mind, the sooner they left the sooner I got used to being without them. A big change for someone who’d lived at home all their lives but I was excited. I had a flat one-thirds to myself, no parents looking over my shoulder, watching how many vegetables I ate at dinner, how much red wine I tried to sneak when they’d let me have a glass.

The first of my two roommates to arrive was Dean Charles Chapman, He was on the taller side, attractive. He’d have no problem finding people to entertain him in his downtime. 

“Y/N right?” Dean smiled holding his hand out, I shook it quickly nodding my head. “You the first one here?” 

“Yeah, just me.” Dean nodded walking over to the window that overlooked our small balcony. “It’s a pretty nice place.” Dean turned, nodding his head. 

“Oh yeah.” He scoffed. “My brother attended University here, graduated a year ago. He never had a place this nice.” He walked towards the rooms. “You pick a room yet?” I shook my head. “Why not?”

“Didn’t seem fair.” Dean smiled, he was handsome, you could clearly see how he’d be able to charm a jury even if his client was guilty as sin. 

“Well, pick a room. First in best-dressed.” He pushed one of my bags at me. “I’ll help you move your stuff in.” He picked up another as I led him towards the biggest room, the one with no shared walls. “Makes sense for you to have the biggest room, you are the only girl.” Wait, what?

“There’s no other girl?” I stopped turning to Dean. “How do you know that? Harry could also be a girls name.” Dean laughed putting down what he was carrying on the double bed. 

“His name is Harry Styles, I played him in football through High School and he is most definitely a guy.” 

“So I’m going to be the only girl in a flat full of guys, where you’ll bring other girls home and have loud sex with them all night long…”

“Is that what you think guys do?” Dean was clearly amused by me. 

“Isn’t it?” He thinks a minute before he shrugs, conceding before holding his hand over his heart. 

“I promise you Y/N, I won’t bring home and loud girls, and you’ll never have to pretend to be my girlfriend to get rid of them in the morning.” He smiled, taking his hand down before shrugging his shoulders. “Unless you want to.” 

“I think I’ll pass for now on that chore… But I’ll ah, I’ll keep it in mind Dean.” 

“Suit yourself, but if you do need help getting rid of any of your… conquests…”

“Never an appropriate term.” 

“I’m sure Harry and I can deal with them,” Dean smirked ignoring me. 

“You don’t have to worry about that Dean.” He nodded his head as if he understood where I was going with this. 

“You got a boyfriend then?” I shook my head.

“No, I’m actually practising being a nun.” I smiled sweetly. Dean’s mouth dropped open a little, he looked me up and down as I began to unpack my bags. 

“You’re a nun?” I nodded my head again. “But you don’t look like a nun.” 

“And what does a nun look like Dean? Huh?” I laughed. 

“Well, they’re meant to be all scary looking, you know like in the movies.” He sat down on my bed, if I were, to be honest, he looks rather traumatised. “I can’t believe my flatmate is a nun.”

“I’m messing with you, Dean.” I laughed unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I just don’t think I’ll really have time to sleep around this year.” 

“So first you’re a nun, and now you sleep around?”

“No, not like that…”

“So which are you? A nun, or a slag?” 

“I’m neither. I’m just saying my course work is going to be full-on, I won’t have time to see anyone…” 

“Y/N, if you think I’m going to put up with your booty calls dragging in and out of here, all night long…”

“I’ve never had a booty call because I’ve never had sex before.” That stopped Dean in his tracks, It was as if someone had thrown cold water all over his body. 

“You’re a virgin?” 

“Is that all your brain picked up on?” I rolled my eyes, picking my laptop out of the bag and sitting it on the desk. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just… Don’t take this the wrong way either, but you’re not ugly.” 

“Thanks, Dean.”

“I mean it, you’ve got great tits, and you’ve got nice eyes I guess.” 

“My physical appearance is not the reason I’ve not had sex.” 

“Then what is?”

“That I haven’t found a boy I like enough to let them see me naked.” Dean sat down on the bed, again and continued to watch me for a moment. 

“You know there is a difference between having sex and seeing someone naked, Y/N.” I stopped fiddling with my pink shirt and looked up at him. “Put it this way, seeing someone naked can be seen as an intimate thing, whereas having sex with someone can be totally casual. Most times there’s no need to get completely undressed.” He crossed one leg over the other, he was really ready to dive in on his theory. “The number of girls I’ve had a one night stand with, or a supply closet quickie with that haven’t been completely naked it’d astound you.” He shook his head, smirking in self-satisfaction. Obviously, some happy memories were filling his head. “Sorry, but what I mean is you can have sex without someone seeing you naked…”

“Okay, let’s rephrase then. I have yet to find someone I like enough to let them put their penis in me.” I smiled sweetly. “Better?”

“And this is exactly the first conversation I thought I would hear my two roommates talking about.” I stood up straight, my clothes falling onto my bed. At the door stood the person I could only assume to be Charlie, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, this'll be a great year.” He laughed tapping the door jamb as he walked away. I turned back to Dean glaring. 

“Great, now he thinks we’re crazy.” I hissed as I threw the clothes on my bed and walked out after Charlie, finding him spread out on the couch. “Hi.” I waved. “I’m Y/N.” 

“The virgin.” Dean chimed in as he walked out of my room. “Hey Charlie, catch the game the other day?” 

“Yeah, absolutely mental,” I have no clue what so ever what they’re talking about. “You really a virgin?” Harry looked me up and down, just like Dean had.

“Do I need to get it tattoo’d on my forehead?” Dean cackled as he walked over to Charlie, sitting beside him on the lounge. 

“Not necessary, it’s just hard to believe.” Harry shrugged as if this was the most normal conversation for three complete strangers to be having. 

“Why is it so hard to believe?” 

“Cause you’re not ugly,” Harry shrugged once more, seconds later being hit on the shoulder by Dean.

“Exactly what I said.” I threw my arms up in the air and walked back to my bedroom, ignoring Dean and Charlie. “Hey, C’mon Y/N,” Dean called out. “We have to go get food and everything still. You can’t be pissed at us just yet. How else are you going to get dinner.”

Fuck these guys.

“Fine.” I groaned storming back out from where I’d come, “Can we go now though so when we get back we can just unpack and not have to leave again?” 

“Sure,” Harry stood up picking up his keys. “I’ll drive.”

“That’s good cause I don’t have a car,” I called behind him. 

��Don’t drive?” Dean looked over his shoulder as we all walked to the front door, checking we each had our set of keys before shutting the door behind us. 

“Back home was so small and compact, I didn’t really need it.” Dean nodded.

“I can teach you if you want, sometime throughout the year?” 

“That’d be great Dean.” I smiled, genuinely touched by his offer. “So what are you each studying?” I turned walking back down the hallway. “Wait, let me guess.” I looked over Harry studying his face. “Harry is going to be a politician, and you Dean, you’re  gonna be a lawyer.” 

“Got me.” Dean smiled. 

“I saw your coursebook on the table.” I giggled, turning to Charlie. “Well?” 

“Not me,” Harry followed quickly. I frowned, “I’m going to be a History teacher, Ancient preferably but I’d settle for modern.” I raised an eyebrow, not what I was expecting from Charlie. “Not what you expected.” He smiled as if he read my mind. 

“Not even close.” I laughed before my body got pushed towards them. “What the fork.” I cried as I fell into Charlie, both of us unable to stabilise ourselves we fell in a heap on the floor. 

“Shit, you guys okay?” I froze. I knew that voice. A loud thump came from beside us, a box dropped to the ground. “Here let me help you.” George, I rolled myself over, propping myself up on my elbows looking up at him from the ground. He recognised me, freezing for a minute before a huge smile filled his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” 

“You mean here at the University, or here as in the ground?” I looked over at Charlie. “With Charlie?” I added. George laughed, reaching out and grabbing onto me. He easily pulled me up. Harry pulled himself up quickly, standing off behind me with Dean. I didn’t care where he was right now I was too engulfed by George MacKay. 

“Same old Y/N.” George laughed pushing some of my hair behind my ear. Done by anyone else the gesture would have been misplaced, but being done by George it could easily be passed off as a casual gesture. “But I do mean at the University.” 

“I’m attending Uni here.” I pointed over my shoulder, “Dean, Harry and I all share a flat two doors down. We were just heading out to get food.” I noticed the bag on his shoulder. “Are you dropping someone off?” 

“No, I go here too.” I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Model career didn’t work out then?” 

“Not just yet.” George stood back to take a good look at me. “I can’t believe I ran into you.”

“Literally.” Dean pipped up in the background. George didn’t look up at him. 

“I wanted to drop by after the party, but I thought you might need some time to breathe.” 

“I appreciate that.” I turned back to look at Harry and Dean, both were watching the conversation intently. “Sorry, Dean, Harry this is George. We’re from the same town.”

“Nice to meet you, George,” Dean extended his hand out slapping against George’s. “Do you watch football?” 

“Yeah. A mad Liverpool supporter, you?”

“Chelsea,” Harry let out a low whistle. George’s eyes turned to him. 

“This is why he’s going to be a lawyer, he’s got a lot of practice lying about Chelsea being a good team.” Harry extended his hand out to George, “I’m Charlie, also a Liverpool fan.” 

In what parallel universe was I introducing George  Richards to people, as if we were good friends. This was weird. So weird.

 “We better get going… It was good to see you, George.” Play it cool Y/N. Like an ice-cube. 

“You too.” I smiled once more before walking past him. We got to the end of the hallway before either Harry or Dean spoke again. 

“I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend,” Dean questioned as he pressed the button for the elevator. 

“I don’t.” 

“Then what’s going on with you and George?” Dean smirked as the doors opened. “Because I’m sure if you really wanted that pesky little thing called your virginity gone, I’m sure he’d take it for you.” Dean chuckled. “Just saying.” 

“God Dean, I forgot how sex-driven you were.” Harry shook his head, stepping inside. 

“Unlike you Dean, I don’t have the desire to let anyone take me to bed.”

“At the moment,” Dean chuckled. 

[weroyals]

𝟏𝐎𝐎 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 / 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

What is your full name?    Mitchell Alexander Shephard

Where and when were you born?  Before the invasion,  hospital near where my parents lived.  I don’t really remember where that was.  Probably doesn’t exist anymore.

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.) A sweet woman who just wanted to be a good mother,  &  a guy that skipped out on her.  That’s why she ended up murdered.  I hope he ended up a Stalker.

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?  A little brother named Adrian. We were separated at a young age.  He went missing during the Black Mesa incident,  but  .  .  .  so did I.

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people. I live on an aircraft carrier with my surviving comrades  &  the kids I took from the Combine back in Alaska.  They’re grown now,  but just barely.  I’m responsible for every soul aboard,  regardless of age.

What is your occupation?    Career military man.

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.    I’m not much for novel descriptions,  but,  uh  .  .  .  I’m tall,  white,  toned.  Shaved dark hair.  Grey eyes.. Ill advised tattoos,  you’re not going to see them unless we’re sleeping together.  Dark clothes,  warm enough to wear on the sea.  The scars are the first thing you’re going to notice if we’re first meeting.  Not that I’m holding it against you.

To which social class do you belong?    Those really don’t exist anymore.

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? Hah !!  Not that I’m telling you.

Are you right- or left-handed?    Right.

What does your voice sound like? I imagine that if sharks had voices,  we would have something in common.

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? Command phrases,  naval terms.

What do you have in your pockets? A compass,  a lighter,  a knife,

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics? Hmm.  Monologuing,  maybe.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐: 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏

How would you describe your childhood in general? It was relatively peaceful,   &  then my mother got remarried,  &  then it was hell.  At least I got Adrian out of the deal.  

What is your earliest memory? Being introduced to Adrian.

How much schooling have you had? High school dropout.  Joined the Marines instead of going to college.

Did you enjoy school? Not really.  I was a smart but unfocused student,  with a lot on my mind.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? Military training  &  real life experience.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them. I don’t think I ever really did.  

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family? I adored my mother,  I was inseparably close with Adrian,  protective over him.  Not that it kept us from getting separated after our mother died.  But I tried.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? A semitruck driver.  You know,  drive all over the country,  listen to music,  get paid to do it.  Childish dream.

As a child, what were your favorite activities? Climbing,  running,  seeing how high in trees I could get.  Sneaking through fences to get into places I wasn’t supposed to be.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display? Mmm,  brashness,  protectiveness.  Zeal for life. 

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? I’d say I was about average.  I had a small friend group in elementary  &  middle school.  Stopped seeing them after everything went to shit.

When and with whom was your first kiss? A girl in high school,  in my first year,  before I dropped out.  Sweet girl.  I kissed her without asking,  thought that was the right thing to do,  like in movies ?  Stupid.  She told me never to do that again.  I didn’t.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? No,  no.  My first was the class whore that same year I had my first kiss.  Looking back I think I was a little young to be dipping my toes into that particular water,  especially since I proceeded to do an awful lot of swimming in it that same year.  I’m lucky things didn’t turn bad for me.

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today. Despite what you may have heard,  I am just a normal human being.  I think my influences are pretty obvious.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑: 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? That’s a toss up.  Joining the Marines,  end of the world,  getting the Avalon Veil.  Meeting  .  .  .  well.  Maybe not.

Who has had the most influence on you? Hm.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? In spite of myself ?  Getting those kids out of the factory.

What is your greatest regret? .  .  .  I couldn’t keep us from being separated.

What is the most evil thing you have ever done? Where do I even begin ?

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? I did back when it mattered. 

When was the time you were the most frightened? When I woke up  &  found the sky black with Combine aircraft.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? I’m not really sure.  I don’t care much about being embarrassed unless it’s in front of my troops,   &  things before that kind of blend together.  

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? Does it have to be something it’s in my power to change ?  There’s not a lot I would change about my own actions at this point,  but there’s things I wish I could have influenced beyond my control.

What is your best memory? Some blurry summer afternoon when we were kids,  sitting outside eating popsicles with the sprinkler turned on us.

What is your worst memory? The murder of my mother.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒: 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐅𝐒 & 𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?    Pessimistic.  I find it hard to believe that things are going to just turn out OK,  even if we try hard to change the course we find ourselves on.

What is your greatest fear?    Being completely  &  totally without options,  without freedom ;   finally being killed.

What are your religious views?    If there is a god,  I hope he at least finds all this entertaining.

What are your political views?    I was largely indifferent towards politics back when it mattered.  I always felt like whoever’s in charge makes the rules  &  it rarely varies from one leader to another.  Looks like I was more right than I knew.

What are your views on sex?    It’s a commodity,  it’s a weapon.  It’s whatever we want it to be.  I enjoy it when I have it.  I don’t have it with anyone on the Avalon Veil,  of course.  Makes it harder to come by,  but that just makes it more enjoyable.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?    Wouldn’t be much of a military man if I couldn’t.  Besides,  if you can’t kill these days,  your only future is gonna be as a Combine citizen keeping your head down  &  hoping Civil Protection doesn’t decide to knock it off for you.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do? It’s already been done,  whatever it is.  A thousand thousand times over.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? No.

What do you believe makes a successful life? If you’re alive,  you’re succeeding.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? I keep myself to myself for the most part,  because I can’t afford to be venting everything I feel out to my crew.  But I am mostly honest in what I do say about what I think.

Do you have any biases or prejudices?    Everyone does.  I can’t honestly believe I’m any different.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? Not that I can think of.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? I would go to extremes for my crew.  Die for them,  though ?   Hm.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓: 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐖/𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how? Professionally,  mostly with military decorum.  I’m not rude to people for no reason,  but I can be abrasive at times.  Not intentionally.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why? Myself.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why? Probably Nick,  because he’s stuck with me this long,   &  risen to the occasion despite clearly not being happy with my position or how I obtained it.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people. I have comrades  &  subordinates.  That is all.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person. No.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened. I can’t say I ever have.

What do you look for in a potential lover? I doubt I’ll ever have one.

How close are you to your family? I’ve already answered that.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not? I haven’t.  It’s not in the cards for me.  I’m too far gone  &  so’s the world. 

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help? If not my crew,  there isn’t anyone else.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why? My crew,  because they’ve been trained their whole lives for this  &  I have no doubt of their loyalty.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you?    Good question.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why? Freeman.  Because he’s the one that tore me apart  &  it’s his fault things have gotten this bad.  

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict? I’ll argue whatever I feel needs to be argued.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations? I tend to take on leadership roles in all situations.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not? I don’t mind it.  I’m very much accustomed to it at this point.

Do you care what others think of you? Only my crew.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟔: 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 & 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes? Reading,  cleaning  &  firing weapons,  parkour.

What is your most treasured possession? The Avalon Veil herself,  I think.

What is your favorite color? If I had to choose,  probably green.

What is your favorite food? I used to like anything that had tomatoes in it.  Weird,  I know.  These days,  I’ll take what I can get.  The leeches aren’t bad if you grill them.

What, if anything, do you like to read? Whatever material still exists.  I like old contemporary novels.  They give you a glimpse into a world that doesn't exist anymore.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)? We play music on the Avalon Veil sometimes.  Haven’t got any movies or anything like that.  I like to watch the crew enjoy themselves dancing in their downtime.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? I’ll smoke or drink when I’m able to get my hands on either.  It’s a good release,  of course I don’t want to stop.  Drugs,  though,  that’d impair me too much.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night? With my crew aboard the Avalon Veil.  

What makes you laugh? Not a whole lot.

What, if anything, shocks or offends you? Nothing,  anymore.  What should ?

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? Probably look out over the water,  read,  take a walk about the decks.

How do you deal with stress? Usually by shooting things.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? If you don’t have a plan out there,  you’re as good as dead.  

What are your pet peeves? Nervous movements,  messianic babble about the Freeman.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟕: 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 & 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted? A typical day,  not going ashore,  involves running through training exercises,  overseeing daily chores,  holding meetings with my higher officers,  so on.  If it’s interrupted,  then that’s cause to be upset because that means we have a  really  big  problem.

What is your greatest strength as a person? Willingness to do what needs to be done.

What is your greatest weakness? I’m necessarily self — involved.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? There’s nothing I can think of right off.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted? Extroverted,  as I have to be.

Are you generally organized or messy? Organized to the letter.  I punish disorganization.

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. Very good at killing,  leading,   &  climbing. Very bad at empathizing,  small talk,  &  working with the machinery of the Avalon Veil.

Do you like yourself? I’m neutral towards myself.

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…) What the fuck ?

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime? Grow my little private nation into something worthwhile.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? In the same place,  at best.

If you could choose, how would you want to die? Quickly.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. Have sex,  deface an image of Freeman,  jump off the upper deck of the Avalon Veil  &  swim in the ocean.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? Is it too much to ask to be remembered for raising these soldiers.

What three words best describe your personality? Stern,  cold,  vindictive

What three words would others probably use to describe you? Strong,  driven,  pragmatic

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…) Cecil tells me to    ❝ Get over yourself  &  appreciate the family you have. ❞    Would that it were so easy.

[bylagunabay]

Miraculous Medal Novena & Memorare

HEALING TESTIMONIALS

These short testimonials are well worth reading and studying.

 MIRACULOUS MEDAL NOVENA

While the first Miraculous Medals were being produced in 1832, Paris was hit by a cholera epidemic, claiming more than 20,000 lives. In June, the Daughters of Charity distributed the first 2,000 medals, especially to infected people who filled the hospitals. Healings multiplied. The rest who wore the medal remained protected from the disease and from fear and distress.

 1 Cure of M. Fermin, A Priest—1834

"To the glory of Mary conceived without sin, I, Jean Baptiste Fermin, unworthy servant of the Blessed Virgin, and subject of M. Olier, have, together with my Superior and confrères, thought it my duty to transmit to our very honored Father, an account of the special favor accorded me.

 Many persons knew what I suffered for six whole years, how I was worn out with a nervous, worrying cough, whose attacks were so frequent and so prolonged that one can scarcely imagine how I ever survived them. My physician himself told me that, for the first three years, my life was in imminent danger, and if in the last three I was less exposed to death at every step, as it were, the giving way of my stomach, the weakness of my chest, were such that all my days were filled with bitterness, and new crosses were laid upon me.

 O, Mary, how deplorable was my condition when you cast upon me a look of mercy! The 15th of November, 1834, I was sent a medal, struck in honor of the Immaculate Conception, and already celebrated as the instrument of many miracles. In receiving it, I was penetrated, for the first time, with a strong feeling of confidence, that this was the Heaven-sent means by which I would reach the end of my afflictions; I had not foreseen this hope, still less had I excited it, for I believe I can say, conscientiously, that I felt naturally disinclined to ask a favor of which I deemed myself unworthy. However, the feeling became so strong that I thought it my duty to consider it prayerfully next morning; and not to oppose so good an impulse, I determined to make a novena, and I commenced it on the 16th.

 From that moment my confidence was boundless, and like a child who reasons no longer, but sees only what he feels sure of obtaining, it sustained me amidst the new trials to which I was subjected; for on the 19th, and several days after, my sufferings were redoubled, affecting at once both stomach and chest. On the 22d I felt considerably better, on the 23d I believed myself strong enough to abandon a diet on which I had subsisted a long time, and on the 24th I wished to eat just what was served the Community; that very morning I commenced, like the hearty seminarians, to take a little dry bread and wine, and it agreed [126]with me. Thus my desires were accomplished.

 I had implored the Blessed Virgin to give me health to live according to the rule, and she had done so; but a good Mother like Mary would not leave her work imperfect, and she chose the very day of her Conception to bestow upon me her crowning favors. I was still troubled with a slight indisposition of the stomach accompanying digestion after dinner, but it was not positive suffering, and even this remnant of my old infirmity disappeared entirely.

 On the eve of that Feast my devotion to Mary, which had lost a little of its first fervor, was, when I least expected it, excited anew, and I felt urged to implore the consummation of a good work so happily begun. I did so that evening, and next morning at prayers, at Mass, at my thanksgiving, and it was in finishing this last exercise before a statue of the Blessed Virgin, after a most fervent prayer, that I realized the recompense of my confidence—I felt assured that my petitions had been granted.

 Since then I have experienced no indisposition worthy of attention. I was able to fast the Ember week before Christmas and the eve of that great solemnity; I sang the ten o'clock High Mass the fourth Sunday in Advent; I followed all the offices of the choir on those days the Church consecrates to the celebration of our Divine Master's birth, and, instead of regretting these efforts, I find in each one of them a new motive for blessing the Lord and testifying my gratitude to our good Mother.”

 2 Ajax Francois / Bergie Chanlatte

Among those who were praying Novenas at the shrine were Ajax Francois and Bergie Chanlatte. Both are from Haiti and attend Creole Masses in their parishes, seated together at the shrine on Tuesday, still praying the Novenas.

 “This is really part of my culture coming from Haiti,” Francois said. “I have been Catholic all of my life. I went to all Catholic schools. I have been praying the Novenas as long as I can remember. I always wear my large cross during Novena prayers because it helps me to feel the power of these prayers.”

 Chanlatte said that she has been bringing all her special intentions to her Novena prayers. She said that she had a laundry list of prayers that have been answered by praying either Novenas for nine consecutive days or for nine consecutive weeks. She said that she has particularly had prayers of a very personal nature answered.

 “I don’t share my Novena list, but I have been blessed. When you sit in a place like this and pray you know that God is hearing you. That’s why I love my Catholic faith. I live as a Catholic and I will die as a Catholic. I will always pray Novenas,” Chanlatte said.

 3 Geraldine Dennis

Geraldine Dennis, a member of St. Raymond of Penafort in Mount Airy, said that she has also been blessed by praying Novenas. She said that she usually prays her Novenas to a certain saint, like St. Rita. She prays them along with her other daily prayers. This includes three to five rosaries, a prayer to St. Michael, prayers to Sorrowful Mary and chaplets.

 “Usually Novenas are prayed to saint, at the shine to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal,” Dennis said. “Many non-Catholics think that we, as Catholics, pray to saints. We do not pray to the saints or to Mary, but we always pray to God. We understand that once someone is a saint when they die they go into heaven.

 “So, they are alive. We are not worshiping the dead. What we are actually doing is taking our prayers to them knowing that they are in heaven near God and Jesus. We are actually asking them to pray for us. It is just like when you know someone who is holy and close to God, you ask them to pray for you,” Dennis said.

 Dennis said that the Novena prayers have much intimacy in them. She usually will write down a list of all the prayers others have asked her to pray. For instance, they may ask her to pray for them to recuperate, receive assistance in the financial area or for a family member who have lost their way.

 It is from this exhaustive list that Dennis will pray her Novenas, usually for nine consecutive days. “When you consolidate all the prayers and all the people you are praying for, your prayers become more powerful. All that I know is that it brings more intimacy with God praying this way. I have done Novenas to the Holy Spirit, the Immaculate Heart, St. Therese and others. It really deepens your spiritual relationship with God,” Dennis said.

 MEMORARE

Fr. Claude Bernard is credited with spreading the devotion to the Memorare after the prayer cured him of a serious illness. St. Mother Teresa used it extensively with wonderful results, even changing the weather.

 1 Maura Roan McKeegan

Not long ago, I went through a very difficult and intense period of suffering in my personal life. There were times when I did not know how I would make it through the next ten minutes with the level of suffering I was enduring, let alone the next hour, day, or week.

 Throughout this time, I prayed traditional novenas, Rosaries (especially the Seven Sorrows Rosary), and many other prayers. But during those instances of immediate and almost unbearable need, the Holy Spirit reminded me to have recourse to the Emergency Novena. Nine Memorares (with a tenth for thanksgiving).

 With the first few Memorares, I began to breathe more easily. By the end of the last ones, I felt increasing peace. What was even more amazing, though, is that every single time I prayed the Emergency Novena, my prayers were immediately answered. Every emergency was resolved. Every prayer that came forth from the depth of my heart was heard.  Every cry of spiritual agony was answered.

 2 Lori Hadacek Chaplin

When Mother Teresa had an emergency, she and her sisters would pray the Memorare nine times for what was required, adding a 10th prayer as a thank you for the Blessed Virgin’s intercession.

 Msgr. Maasburg in his book, Mother Teresa of Calcutta: A Personal Portrait said this about the saint’s practice: “She took the collaboration of Heaven so much for granted that she always added a tenth Memorare immediately, in thanksgiving for the favor received.”

 The saint didn’t dub the devotion the “Flying Novena.” That title came later when people realized that this prayer works fast when said with confidence and faith.

Two of the most memorable answers to this novena happened when I prayed for my eldest daughter, Ella. She was suffering terribly from a toothache. Feeling helpless about what I could do for her, I said the Flying Novena. After I finished the prayer, I called her, and she told me that the pain, mercifully, had eased up noticeably.

 The second time was when Ella was photographing a wedding. I got a frantic message from her, saying that the lens cleaner had seeped inside her portrait lens and the liquid had completely fogged the lens making it unusable. I told her that the lens would clear when the cleaner evaporated. She said she didn’t have time to wait — a quick search had told her that it could take days to clear — and asked that I pray.

 As soon as I finished the 10 prayers, the lens was back to normal. Ella told me, “Mom, it happened too fast to be a coincidence.”

[yangssunglasses]

The Maiden and the Fox

Chapter 2

Read on FFnet

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After the assembly was concluded, Sakura was whisked into the Hokage tower and given a lavish suite, normally kept for visiting dignitaries. She was granted luxury in the last remaining hours of her life. Her father visited, only to tell her how proud he and her mother were of her noble sacrifice. Mother didn’t even bother to come, not that Sakura expected her to. She’d become a family disappointment when she’d turned sixteen and instead of marrying a good boy with a nice, big stretch of fertile land, she took up medicine under Tsunade’s tutelage. To make up for the parental indifference, her best friend Ino threw a big scene and had to be dragged out by the guards. Feeling emotionally drained after that, Sakura asked not to be disturbed until the dress fitting.

Sakura was staring out of the window into the darkened sky, the red glow on the horizon warning of the Fox, when someone knocked. She remained silent, her dry eyes glued to the outside view.

The door opened and closed with a little too much force. Then a hand grabbed her by the shoulder and she was forcibly turned around to look into the narrowed face of Uchiha Sasuke.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he hissed.

Sakura raised her eyebrows. He sounded genuinely angry with her and she couldn’t understand why. If this had happened any time before his rejection, she’d have withered under his fearsome glare. Now she straightened her spine and met his gaze head on.

“Saving the village,” she replied evenly, taking his hand off her shoulder. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“Wrong? You’re sacrificing your own life and you ask me what is wrong with it? Un-fucking-believable.” He ran a hand through his hair and she couldn’t help but think how attractive that looked. Sakura bit her lip and looked away.

Sasuke started pacing. She hadn’t seen him this worked up since his brother’s terminal illness had been diagnosed.

“What is the Hokage even thinking? This is so foolish. We should be planning to kill the Fox, not give in to his demands. How do we know he’ll even keep to his word? What if he changes his mind and destroys the village anyway or demands more sacrifices?” Sasuke ranted. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved with this insanity at all. You’re supposed to be smarter than that,” he said accusatorily.

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, someone has to do something to save us all and it may as well be me,” she replied, putting hands on her hips.

“But it doesn’t have to be you,” Sasuke argued mulishly. “We have fighters, we have the police force. Let us take care of the Fox.” He pointed at the insignia stitched to his jacket. Sasuke’s father was the Chief of the Police.

Sakura shook her head slowly. “That’s impossible and you know it. Your father knows it. You can’t kill a demon. If you try, you will only die and the village will be destroyed.”

He pressed his lips together, fists clenched at his sides. He had no rebuke to the naked truth, but was still unable to accept it.

Sakura felt a pang in her chest.

“Why do you care anyway?” she asked, facing the window again. It was easier to look at the horizon rather than him. “You should be relieved. Your fiancée is going to be safe. Seiko, right?” Sakura risked a quick glance at him from under her eyelashes.

“My fiancée has nothing to do with any of this,” he replied, his face suddenly made of granite.

“Good for her,” Sakura said flippantly. “I just don’t see why you’re getting so bent out of shape over this. It’s not like you have a reason to love me or anything.”

Sasuke flinched back as if she physically struck him in the gut and she smirked in satisfaction. She finally got to throw his cruel words back into his face. She hurt him back and it felt good.

“Damn it, Sakura. You shouldn’t die. You can’t,” he said roughly.

“Why?” She launched the question at him like a ninja needle, rapid, sharp and deadly when it hits the target.

He stared at her mutely, stark helplessness reflecting in his eyes. Her expression hardened.

“I thought so,” she said cuttingly and turned to the window again. “If you don’t have any real reason, then leave me alone. I want some peace and quiet on my last night alive.”

She pretended indifference, but she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye, hyperaware of his every movement. She waited, counting seconds.

One… two… three… four… five… Why isn’t he leaving?

He was just standing there, head bowed and face obscured from her view. The bunched up muscles in his shoulders and arms vibrated as if he was gripped by some sort of a great internal struggle.

Sakura frowned and kept counting. Why wasn’t he leaving?

… Eighteen… nineteen… twenty…

Sasuke sucked in a breath and looked up at her.

“Sakura… I… care about you. I don’t want you to… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Lose me?” She snorted in disbelief, whirling to face him. “You already did, heck, you made it abundantly clear that you wanted me gone from your life! You didn’t just lose me, you made me get lost! And after that, I am supposed to believe that you care? That you want me to live? That’s-that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the truth,” he replied simply.

Sakura stared at him, wide-eyed, feeling bereft. Sasuke wouldn’t lie like that. He wouldn’t tell her a bald-faced lie just to play with her feelings. He wasn’t like that.

“What about your fiancée?” she asked desperately.

“What about her?”

“You must surely care much more about her than me! She’s the one you want to marry. So stop bothering me and go home. Be with her. Enjoy your happy life in safety from the Fox.”

“Sakura,” he said seriously and held up her chin to look her straight in the eye. “What I want and what I can have are two completely different things. And you have no idea what I really want.”

The intensity of his onyx gaze made her throat dry. She licked her lips and didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to them in interest.

“Then… try me,” she whispered.

His smoldering eyes flashed at her challenge and in an instant, he pulled her hard against his chest and his mouth covered hers in her very first kiss. She blinked in surprise, her eyes fluttering shut as she was swept away by the pleasurable rush. At first, he took her lips impetuously, as if he was afraid she’d push him away and so wanted to get as much out of it as he could, then with a change in angle, he slowed down, kissing her deeply, passionately, and thoroughly. His big hand caressed her nape and a shiver went through her, a quiet moan coming from her throat as she kissed him back. A pleasant tingling warmed her low in her belly and she squirmed against his lean body.

Sasuke released her lips for a breath and, as they panted, she was pulled in by the dark heated look in his eyes, which she realized was desire. Sakura gulped.

Without warning, he kissed her again and she let him. His hands were no longer static, instead they roamed her back, shoulders, and arms eliciting more of that delicious tingling. She pressed even closer into him, chest to chest, feeling the thudding in his ribcage against her breast.

When he grabbed her under the bottom and lifted her up, Sakura broke the kiss with a startled yelp. Sasuke carried her swiftly across the suite and deposited her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress and looked up at him with confusion.

“Sasuke-kun, what are you…”

“Sakura,” he interrupted her roughly and reached down to his belt, “you won’t be sacrificed if you’re no longer a virgin.” She watched, transfixed as he unbuckled the belt with a snap. Then, when his meaning finally got through to her, she gasped. Her panicked gaze locked with his determined one.

“No, Sasuke-kun, you can’t! I have to be the sacrifice to save the village!”

“Someone else can do that. I don’t care as long as it’s not you,” he muttered dismissively as he kneeled on the bed. Sakura scrambled back. This was moving too fast. She wasn’t ready…

“What about Seiko? What if they took her?” she blurted out to stall him. “Unless you already…”

A crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Stop bringing her into this,” he snapped irately.

“Why? Because it reminds you that you have a fiancée and you shouldn’t cheat on her?” Sakura shot back as she tucked her legs under her, kneeling on the bed. She could stand up whenever she wanted.

Sasuke growled with irritation. “Sakura, why are you so goddamn difficult? I’m trying to save your life!” he hissed as he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

Sakura looked him in the eye coldly. “Oh, is that right? Or maybe you just want to take advantage of a girl that’s going to die tomorrow anyway? Yesterday you wouldn’t even look at me.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed and he dived to steal another kiss, but she pushed him away.

“No. No more of this. I have more morals than that. I won’t help you cheat,” she said firmly and stood up. She walked off the bed and pointed to the door. “You should leave. Or I’ll call the guards.” Ironic that the men posted outside her suite for her “protection”, which translated to keeping the village’s sacrifice from running away at the last moment, would actually be useful to protect her. “Now,” Sakura said sharply when he didn’t move.

Wordlessly, Sasuke got off the bed and, redoing the belt’s buckle, then stiffly walked towards the exit. Before he reached it, he looked back at her with desperation.

“Sakura, I realize I hurt you in the past but I’ll do anything to prove myself to you. I’ll fight the Fox for you if that’s what it takes,” he declared fervently, which both scared and angered her. If he thought a few words would get her to cave in, he had another thing coming.

Pale-faced, with arms crossed, Sakura shook her head at him. “Don’t be foolish. I don’t wish for your death. That would be a waste of my sacrifice. Besides,” she sighed and hugged herself tighter, turning her face to the left, “there’s nothing you can do to convince me. Please go now.”

She stood her ground, meeting his gaze unflinchingly and she saw the exact moment the fight went out of his eyes. Sasuke looked down, then at her again. He clenched his fists and with an incline of his chin in farewell, he walked out. The door closed behind him quietly. Sakura stared at them for a moment, then pressed her forehead to smooth wooden surface.

“You already broke my heart,” she whispered after him, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

She slid to her knees and wrapped herself in her arms, wracked with dry sobs. “Kami,” she choked out and ran her hands through her hair from the front all the way to the back, as if in an attempt to put some order into the mess of her existence. Had she really done the right thing? Was Sasuke right after all and she had wasted her one chance to save her life out of the stupid pride? Should she have trusted him?

She didn’t know. She didn’t know.

Trembles took over her body and she bowed down in anguish. Tears she couldn’t hold back anymore dropped onto her hands and floor under her. Then she curled up on the floor and cried until she ran out of all the tears.

.

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AN: Thanks for reading! This is second part of the story I’m writing for SSM day 10 prompt - Fox’s Wedding! Let me know how you liked it and until next time :)

[cute-gothic-sweet-demon]

Let’s have a talk about Endgame real quick

I saw some people complain about some things in the movie and I want to say what I think about those things. Of course, it’s okay to not like the movie and stuff and I don’t think you’re wrong or right, I just don’t agree with you. Okay.

First things first: Stucky - I really understand the shipping, I do ship them too, but let’s be honest: nothing cannon hints that they like each other romantically and to think that their supportive relationship means something like that is just toxic masculinity. We see it every time two guys show meaningful affect towards another guy, and it’s okay to ship them but we have to stop making every good relationship between guys a romantic one (and the bad ones too. The fact that people ship Steve and Tony and not Steve and Thor is because Steve and Tony have a significant relationship and people HAVE to ship two guys that have one). It just says to boys that if they demonstrate love for a male friend he’s gay and that’s really toxic and make straight boys less confident in getting over toxic masculinity. Bucky keeps trying to show a girl to Steve in the first movie, Bucky is really supportive when Steve kisses Sharon and he even tried to flirt with Peggy right in front of Steve. Again: there is no such thing as a cannon hint of a romantic relationship aside from they being supportive and would make no sense to them to be together canonically.

Steve’s End: Steve is my absolute favorite character and have always been and he always have demonstrate that he didn’t got over Peggy. The fact that he just start to pay REAL attention to Sharon after he discovered she was Peggy’s niece says something about how much he cares and can’t get over her. Would it be good for him to move forward and live a life with his new friends? Yeah, I would love that, but that’s just not the character they wrote. He always felt bad in our time, he was probably still a virgin in Endgame, he still reference the fact that he’s a soldier for another time, and he can’t even do something with his life except for being Captain America all the time. All the characters have some scene where they’re just a normal human, but Steve’s only friends are Avengers or agents of Shield ‘cause he can’t fucking fit in our world. People often mock him. It’s okay to him to go back and live a normal life in a place he could actually be Steve Rogers and be married and have sons and not being seen as an old man. Steve was happy when he passed his shield to Sam and if he was that happy it was okay to him. And let's be honest, the Russo Brothers made the best movies of Steve, a lot of people thought he was boring until Winter Soldier, I know we love those characters but Chris Evans and those guys KNOW and write them a lot more accurately than what we do in fanfics and I have to say that 'cause there's a lot of people mixing their fanfiction Steve Rogers - that is totally valid since comic Steve is the original one and he was write by a bunch of authors in different way - with the canon MCU Steve Rogers that is not more valid than yours but is definetely the one that came back to his past and married Peggy and this is okay, and you can dislike it, but is ridiculous to say that this is not him 'cause a lot of people already saw and expected that as his ending a long time ago, it's there and have always been there.

Tony's death: okay, he had a lovely daughter that made him so happy you could almost touch his satisfaction. He was okay with Pepper the whole movie wich is totally new for him, he and Steve got back to be more friends and supportive than ever, he hugged Peter for real, he literally vanished the whole reason of his anxiety and depression, he fought with his wife side by side, he was totally positive about the world in his post mortem message, he made peace with his daddy issues, he was an absolute genius the whole movie and, as Pepper said, he could finally rest. Now, I know all this things could have happened with him alive in the end but the problem is that if Tony is alive he cannot rest. The only reason he was fine during those five years is because the only danger in the world were drug cartels, but when the next villain come from outer space he would never be able to get rest. Diying is the only way for Tony to get piece forever and he was totally okay with that, he said this in his hologram message. Like, really he was happy and satisfied from those five peaceful years with his family, even Pepper, that was always against him being Iron Man said to him that he should do something and that it was okay to him to go, 'cause she knew he was okay and that it would be healthy for him to go back to be Iron Man. I just want to say that Tony died in a good and peaceful moment of his life that wouldn't last one more year, probably.

Thor: Okay, people are being fatphobic with Thor and aparentely have never passed through depression, which is good for you, but it's very good what they did to Thor. They made him get revenge and not being satisfied by that. They made him pretend none of this happens and pretend that he was alright and they took the most powerful and proud Avenger and put him in a situation where he feels he can't do anything. He was feeling garbage and this shit happens to us, but he is a god and he can't figure or accept that he's not perfect and his talk to his mom is so meaningful 'cause we never actually had a good notion of their relationship and it was very important to him. We got him being supported by friends, we got him figuring that being a kings is too much for him and always has been and we had him starting to accept that he doesn't have to be perfect and he even got to go with the most flawed group in the MCU and be okay with that. I would honestly hate this movie if they used Thor being fat only as a joke, but they made him fight and feel proud, and be awesome in his body and it was very satisfying to see this character grow so much.

Natasha's Death: Yeah, there is a problem with killing MCU's first woman hero, and I get that and I agree that it could be different, but it makes sense for her character arc. It could be better, it could have been more meaningful as Gamora's death was in the first one, but I honestly think that it makes sense for her character to die for Clint (and again, the fact that people ship them is toxic. They have a beautiful friendship and turn everything into romance just erases the importance of supportive and intimate friendship). I would be satisfied with the death of any of them (I mean by story point of view, I'm not sadistic) but I think it is more meaningful for her character arc than it would be for his. But yeah, could've been a lot better and it bothered me a lot when I watched, can't disagree with that.

Thing that actually bothered me:

-It's stupid to say that that gay guy was representative but I'm okay since they promissed they'll put a LGBT+ hero in this next phase and I don't doubt they will since they picked the Sam to be the next Captain America instead of Bucky and since they're making Shang Chi, Captain Marvel and Black Panther meaningful in this next phase, I hope for the best

-I wished I have seen Hulk and Banner resolution into being a single being but I was pretty happy with them saying that Banner was just ignoring the fact that radiation can't make a second personality and that he was just erasing the fact that Hulk is a part of himself

-Steve and Bucky deserved a better ending and some good time spent together. I do think they're very good friends and even though I like Steve's end, I think we deserved some scenes with them doing something normal together.

-Carol deserved to be far more than a Deus Ex Machina the whole movie. I do agree that this movie should be focused on the original ones, but Carol was kinda lazy written into the movie even though she got some very cool scenes that I'll love forever.

-I personally don't get why they coudn't rebuild Vision. They could actually put the Soul Stone back on him, fix him, redo that surgery Shuri was doing and them take the stone back to it's time.

In the end I think is a fucking awesome movie and most of the critics I saw were based on how much fanfic people read and how much they care for perfectly happy endings. I personally think that bittersweetness in endings make them more satisfiable, since perfectly happy endings are kind of forced to be that way but everyone have a taste and it's okay.

I hope for better phases, I hope for better stories, I am very grateful for all of those ten years and for growing with them. I'm excited to see an MCU with different versions and with no versions of those original Avengers and I ask you all to care for characters in a healthier way 'cause being actually depressed and stressed by movies if they don't end as you'd like is not cool or something you should incite on others. The MCU should not be something for you guys to be so obsessed with and they really shoudn't try to be your headcanon version, that's why fanfic are for and you can actually work on making comic scripts for Marvel if that's so important to you. Be safe, be healthy, be okay.

I hope I didn't offend anyone in this post, I'm not english fluent and if I said something in the wrong tone it was not on purpose, I just wanted to show my thoughts too. :)