#exes energy on full display once again

[agreatandhonorablesoldier]

javy and natasha’s reaction to bradley’s truly outta pocket comment that jake will lead someone to their death really sell just how bitchy that was before we even get to jake and that shift in his smile going from playful to fake and guarded as hell. 

[kookiecrumb]

jjk || Girls Need Love Too

pairing: nerd!neighbor!jungkook x fem!reader

word count: 2.6K

summary: You throw out your shitty ex and Jungkook comes over to comfort you, in his own special way.

tags: smut (18+), angst, neighbors to lovers, non-idol au

warnings: oral (m&f), begging, penetrative sex, nicknames (goddess), praise kink, dirtytalking, creampie!!, unprotected sex*(don't do this), hypnotism maybe, a little rough.

Subconsciously inspired by this edit???

This is the last time he disrespects you. 

Standing outside of your previously shared apartment with your ex-boyfriend on his knees in front of you, you toss out his suitcase with good riddance. 

"No no no, you don't have to do that, please, fuck, Y/N, listen to me!" He sobs, throwing himself on the ground like a child. 

"Why would I listen to you after what you've done to me, after you've never in your life listened to a word I've said?!" You scream at him. 

He sniffs with all his might, trying to gather himself for the last time to plead for your mercy. "It's a mistake! This is just a mistake, I'm so fucking sorry," he wails. 

And for a moment– 

For a second, you question your own judgement. 

This could be three years of a relationship down the drain. 

It doesn't matter. You need to respect yourself more than to let him in again.

"Fuck off." You slam the door in front of him and lean against it on the other side with your arms folded tight against your chest. 

That's when the tears start falling, like waterfalls. In that delicate moment, you realize what you've done to the young love that once existed between you. It is long gone, and so is your innocent youth. 

Little did you know that your next door neighbor, Jungkook, was just about to take out the trash when he witnessed the tragic end to your relationship. 

Admittedly, he's celebrating inside. 

He's always had a thing for you, from the moment you moved in next door to the time you ran into each other on the elevator to when he spotted you around the block, doing errands. 

This might be his chance to be a real provider to you. Immediately, he starts conjuring up ideas to ease your pain. 

After all, "a shoulder to cry on will turn into a cock to ride on." 

He doesn't remember where he got that quote from, but it suits the situation pretty well, he thinks. 

Jungkook is a bit of a nerd. He's never been a Casanova or anything, and he's a little shy with the ladies. 

He's a computer science major who has basically never felt the touch of a woman, and as embarrassing as that is to admit it also means that he needs an experienced person to show him the ropes. 

Your dominance intrigues him. 

He was always hesitant to approach women, but you made him feel welcome enough for him to approach you.

You're open and give off a confident energy that he really enjoys. In other words, you seem to know what you're doing. 

This is his chance. 

With money in his pocket, he grabs a jacket and throws it on to make his way to the grocery store. 

He needed to buy something subtle enough so that it doesn't look like he's desperately wanting to get in your pants as soon as your lover is out of the picture, but something straightforward enough so that you know he's willing to lend a hand in your healing process. 

You can't go wrong with the essentials, right? 

A crying woman needs something to hug, so he stops by the gift aisle and grabs the softest teddy bear. 

She needs something to wipe her tears with, so he tosses a box of tissues into his handheld basket. 

She needs something to keep her mouth from sobbing, so he buys you some teddy grahams, cheezits, and granola bars just so that you have a variety to choose from. 

He gets everything that you might need to heal. 

Jungkook pauses in front of the flower arrangements. 

There is a bucket full of single roses on display. It's romantic, sweet, and can be seen as a simple gesture of empathy. He decides on a blossoming one and heads to checkout. 

Meanwhile, you're wiping your tears with your sleeves, knocking your head against the door, softly. "Why," you mouth, barely any sound coming from your throat. "Why, why, why…" 

Your ex has already gone. He should be halfway across town by now. 

You dread going to a family gathering without him by your side. The fear of what others may think about your relationship and the blame they might put on you brings you deep shame.  

If you gain a reputation as someone with many failed relationships, you might as well be done for. 

That terrifies you. 

Despite your fears, you must carry on. This is the only way you'll survive to eventually be a part of a healthy and strong relationship. It's what you crave the most. 

It is knocking at your door. Literally. 

Jungkook knocks jubilantly at your door, with three bags of goodies held by either hand. 

You stand up and answer the door, surprised to see Jungkook on the other side. "Jungkook! What are you doing here, isn't it late?" 

"I've come to console you, y/n," he says, straightforwardly. "I don't want to see you upset and alone, so I've come with gifts so that you don't have to…do that." 

You glance over him. 

He's puffing his chest up, making himself look bigger than he is. 

His build is naturally a little muscular. You know that he works out a little bit for his own health, but he's pretty skinny, otherwise. 

"Yeah– Yeah, Jungkook. Uhm," you wipe your face one more time, with your sleeve. "Fine. That's fine," you sniff. 

"Good!" He cheers, placing his bags on your counter. "Can I come in?" 

"Sure,, sure. You can come in," you smile, letting him pass and locking the door behind him. 

Jungkook looks around the house with subtle curiosity. "This is your place, y/n? It's so much bigger than I thought…" 

"…It's a lot emptier than it was a few days ago," you laugh through tears. 

"Oh cause that guy moved out, huh?" He says, quietly, as he walks around. 

"Yeah," 

"Yeah, well, I never liked him. He was always trying to put you in a cage, huh? Always trying to pin you down and take control of you and you were never about that," he says, casually. 

"...Yeah, Jungkook." 

How the fuck did he know that?

"How do you…know all this?" You follow him into the living room, watching him inspect your personal items with admiration. 

"It's a vibe," he mutters. 

"Oh," you let out a sigh. 

Jungkook puts down a photograph of you on a shelf and meets your gaze. "Uhm…there's stuff in those bags for you. I thought you'd need someone to check up on you. I wanna be a shoulder to cry on." 

"You really don't need to do that. I don't plan on being reliant on anybody but myself right now, it just–" you shake your head. "It's something I need to do myself." 

"No, I think you need to listen…" Jungkook hums, smirking a bit as he comes forward. 

"After all…" He tilts his head down, inches from your face. "Girls need love too." 

"Self-love," you reply, hesitantly. 

Jungkook nods, softly. "What can that look like for you?" 

You blink slowly, feeding into his soothing tone and his hypnotizing body language. He leans over you in a protective yet delicate stance, open and inviting. "Many things, Jungkook…"

"What do you need right now? What is your body telling you?" He rasps, quietly. 

"That you want me," you reply, as if the words were coarsed out of you.

"That I want you?" He prompts 

"That I want you," you correct. 

He smiles and weaves his arms around your careful waist. "You do," he confirms. "Don't you want to fuck me?" He speaks seductively into your ear, catching your body in his arms as his hands massage your scalp hypnotically. 

His touch bleeds seduction, soaked up by your skin as a need grows deep inside of you to take him in ways you don't dare speak. 

"He doesn't know how to please you...he never did...you need someone to rely on...and I'll be that for you, goddess…"

You melt into his touch, a medley of sweet lust tainting your perception like a love drug. "Ohhh Kookie~" you sigh, biting your lip. "How long have you seen me this way…" 

Jungkook kisses your cheek softly, in a tender act of kindness. 

"For a while. I don't remember when I caught feelings, but seeing him treat you like that made my blood boil…" he says, rigidly. 

"Treat me better," you ask, taken by his delicate touch. 

As if it was his plan all along, he strokes your sides with his wide hands, riding your shirt up gradually. 

"I plan to," he hums. "I want you to show me the ropes. How can I best pleasure you, goddess?" 

Your eyes flash with lust. "Let me show you." 

While sitting on the couch, you dip your hands into his pants and stroke his thighs beneath the cloth, then bring them back up to stroke his torso while maintaining heated eye-contact. 

Jungkook hisses softly, smirking as he leans forward for you to touch all of him. "...love the way you touch me…" he slurs, furrowing his eyebrows very slightly. 

He kneels below you, his big eyes awaiting your guidance. 

You run your fingers through his hair, thoroughly petting and caressing him in a controlled way. 

He dips his head between your thighs and squeezes his eyes shut. His wide palms grip them open, his lips resting above your clothed cunt. "Do you need me here?" His voice vibrates against your skin in the most delicious way. 

You bite your lip, the blood rushing to your cheeks. Fuck. "Yeah, Kookie~" you sigh.

He smiles and sharpens his tongue before running it from the bottom of your slit to the very tip, pulling your panties to the side so that he can sloppily eat your sweet pussy. 

His eyebrows knit together innocently looking up at you, a deliberate devilish smirk hiding behind those eyes. You tighten your thighs around his jaw and he relaxes his tongue, slipping it inside you and pressing up against your g-spot. 

His grip on you intensifies, his tattooed fingers tensing as he manipulates your hips into his skilled mouth. "Ohhh fuck, Kookie, so good~" you coo. 

Suddenly, he thrusts in, determined. 

You gasp, melting beneath him, but he maintains a strong control of you and he won't let you go. You're under his spell. 

"Fuck!! Fuck,," you whine. 

Jungkook's eyes narrow as he's determined to make you cream around his tongue. He's so fucking hard in his pants but he knows that the reward of having you nice and wet for him is far sweeter than any sort of childish impatience. His focus is set. 

He latches his lips around your clit and spits it back out before taking it back in, sucking it hard and letting his tongue roll over it lewdly. You grab a handful of his hair and angle your hips upward, your moans intensifying with every stroke of his hot tongue. 

He smirks and spreads it on you, digging his nails into your skin possessively before sinking his tongue back inside your cunt, flailing it, determined to make you cum exactly how he wants. 

"I'd do this forever. Your cunt is so sweet. I'll drink it like water," he rasps between passionate kisses against your skin. 

You sputter out a whine, desperate to get something back inside of your hungry cunt. "Please~ please– ohh, fuck, please fuck me~" you cry, unprompted. 

He's painfully hard against his jeans, and by the looks of it he's the perfect size for you.

He catches you staring, amused. He draws himself away from your legs and works on releasing his cock for you. 

"Can I suck your dick?" You pout. 

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. "You wanna?" 

"Ohhh yeah~" you moan, your eyes softening as you stare at his fingers pulling his pants down to his thighs. "Mmmm~" 

With care, he pulls out his cock in his hand, displaying it to you casually. A surge of pleasure overcomes you. 

"You're so pretty, Jungkook," you breathe, closing your legs together and rubbing them with need. 

 

Jungkook places one hand on his torso and spreads his thighs apart to better show himself off. "Why don't you come down here and put your pretty lips around my cock, then?" 

Soon, your body is laid across your super soft velvet rug with your legs kicked up as your hands grip your neighbor's dick, smiling happily as you take his sticky tip between your lips. He leans backwards on his hands, his head slightly leaned back. 

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows in anticipation. He lets out an ungodly moan as you fill your throat with his cock, your tongue spreading against his underside as you hollow your cheeks and thrust him in shallowly, making sure to breathe deeply through your nose. 

Jungkook winces, letting a flow of sung moans flow from his throat as you suck the life out of him. A big, relaxed smile spreads on his lips as if he were in a state of pure bliss. "Ah~ ahh- ahhh…ah," he swallows hard. "Mmngh– mmmghhh~" 

You use your hands to optimize his pleasure, watching his face contort as you take more of him in your mouth. His breath stutters suddenly, causing his hips to jolt upwards. "Fuck– fuck, I'm going to cum so hard if you don't st– stop," he warns in a panic. 

He looks like a Greek God from this angle, his body a work of pure art. You knew Jungkook worked out, but you didn't know he was built like this. 

You relent, only so you can scoot up on his thighs and grind your swollen cunt against his shaft. 

His eyes widen in surprise, and his reaction is visceral. Jungkook pulls you on to him and catches your lips in a passionate embrace, speaking moans into your mouth as he brings your hips up so he can spear you with his perfect cock. 

He penetrates you, tensing his thighs beneath you as he stretches you out so satisfyingly. You let out the most drawn out whimper, your fingers weaving through his black strands. 

He pants hard, swirling himself inside of you and adjusting to your shared comfort. 

You roll your eyes back, bouncing on him a little in anticipation. "Jungkook please, fuck me…rough, hard…make me cum hard…" you request. 

"What my princess asks for, she gets," he replies, positioning you so that he can get the most out of every long, hard thrust. "I can barely stand to be inside you," he whimpers. 

Jungkook's body shakes at the feeling of your tight cunt. You clench around him and he sees stars. There's no way he could possibly last fucking your cunt for too long, so he starts thrusting sloppily, resting his thumbs above your ass. 

In a quick desperation, he reangles himself and pounds into you, pressing deeply into your cervix as his fingers tease and play with your fat clit. 

A dumbified smile spreads on your face as you lower your hips onto him, clenching around his cock with each pound. You feel your body melt around him, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm snap. 

You spasm as you take every drop of his cum, feeling him grip your ass with conviction, holding you still so that he can properly fill you. "That's so good, so fucking good, take it all, baby…" he groans under his breath, huffing. 

He puts his arms around your torso and pulls you upwards so that your back is against his chest and kisses you sweetly. You lean your forehead against his and ask: "are you an angel or the devil?" 

"...I can be both." 

a/n: here you go!!

permatag gang gang: @btsarmyakasammy, @kooliv , @koobsessed , @angelwonie , @carolynanderson , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz , @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy , @hgema , @jjkeverlast , @armys-dna , @nglmrk , @devilsbooksworld , @saweetspoiled , @exactlyfuriouscoffee and @unicornbabylover

[thewayofthemandalorian]

wreck my plans - epilogue

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Series rating: M

Chapter rating: M

Word count: 1,853

Notes: All my love and appreciation to @ezrasbirdie​ my beloved for beta-reading this entire series and being my top cheerleader. You are the best and I appreciate you so much! This is just a short and sweet epilogue to wrap things up and see what happened in the aftermath of everything. Thank you to everyone for reading and reblogging/leaving feedback on this story.

Comments/reblogs appreciated

Chapter warnings: Kissing, non-explicit sexual content (including f!receiving oral), proposals

previous chapter || masterlist (main) || masterlist (marcus pike)

AUGUST (AGAIN)

The cherry blossoms sway in the hot summer breeze as you walk to work hand in hand with Marcus. The power’s been out for twenty-four hours and since you’re now the owner/operator of the cafe, you need to make sure everything’s okay and nothing’s gone bad. 

“I just hope I don’t have to throw everything out,” you say to Marcus for the seventh time, knowing that the generator is running as needed and everything will likely be fine. 

Marcus squeezes your hand. “It should be fine, honey.” 

“When should the power be back on at the Bureau?” you ask, fishing the keys out of your purse. 

“Hopefully not long. Although part of me wants to stay home. I’ve enjoyed the extended staycation I’m getting.” Marcus had had the past week off work. You’d mostly lounged at the house, gone on day trips, spent lazy mornings (and afternoons) in bed tangled up together. 

It’s been nine months since you moved in with Marcus, since Kevin was sent away for twenty years without parole. You still don’t know how you got so lucky with Marcus. He’s the perfect man for you. Sweet, caring, considerate, generous. He takes care of you. And listens to you. He’s everything that your ex-husband wasn’t. He does things for you because he wants to, not because he has a sense of obligation to. You love him completely, and you were once certain that you would never love again. You’re happier than ever with him. 

The idea of marriage has crossed both your minds. But as you told him one night a few months ago in bed, you weren’t sure if you could see yourself getting married again. Marcus had understood. He felt the same way once after Teresa left him. But now that you’ve met each other? Anything is possible. You know that Marcus is the one for you, just as Marcus knows you’re the one for him. The two of you had left it open-ended, but it was becoming something you were considering more and more. You want to spend your life with him by your side.

With a jangle of the bells hanging at the door, you push open the cafe door. The air is stale without the conditioner. You could use the generator to its full value and power the entire cafe but you don’t want to run the risk of taking any power or energy away from the fridge or freezers. 

With some slight trepidation, you open the fridge and grab a carton of milk, seeing how cold it is. It feels fine. “I think everything’s okay,” you say to Marcus before glancing at the display case of baked goods. They are a new recipe, gladly taste-tested by Marcus after you made them last week in the kitchen. He’d still tasted like the cinnamon swirl donuts later as he kissed you, pushing you up against the wall as you giggled against his lips before helping him take off the forest green t-shirt you love so much on him. 

“We should probably take these,” you say, “so they don’t go stale.” 

But before you can get a box, there’s a thrumming sound, the tell tale sign of the air conditioner and freezer coming back on. “Thank god,” you cry, the stress releasing from your body in waves. 

You still take the donuts home. You know how much Marcus loves them. 

- - - -

“When do you know how many students you have?” you ask Marcus over dinner. The power’s on at your place, but it’s still off at the Bureau, so you and Marcus have another day together; he’s going to helping out with the cafe tomorrow, making sure everything’s as it should be. You won’t be re-opening until Wednesday.

“Should be soon. These next few days were supposed to be my last days before my sabbatical.” Marcus has decided to take the teaching job as a trial run. It was one thing when he was undercover. It’s another thing entirely when he’s doing it for real. If he likes it, he’s going to give up the FBI and become a full-time instructor. It’s odd, he thinks, not being an FBI agent. At least for the time being. If he hates it, he’s going back to the Bureau. But you don’t think he’s going to hate it. He’s teaching the figure drawing class again and he’s kept his same model as before on retainer. It had been an easy yes on your part, and you had successfully negotiated a higher pay, which bolstered your income nicely. The only hard part would be keeping your hands off each other completely. 

You sense his nerves about it. “You’re going to be great. You are great.” 

Marcus smiles at you. “So are you, you know that?” 

He tells you so many times, but every time he does it makes your heart grow in fondness for him even more.

“Charlotte texted. Power’s still out at her place, so she’s going to Sam’s.” Though you didn’t see your sister on a daily basis like you had this time last year, she was still number one in your life. 

After dinner, as Marcus is washing the dishes, you come up behind him at the sink and wrap your arms around his middle, resting your face against his warm, broad back. “Hi, baby,” you murmur. It seemed a bit incongruent the first time you called this man of authority “baby” when it had slipped out, but he absolutely preens every time you call him that. “I know the power’s back, but I still want to do what we had planned for if it was still out.” 

Twenty minutes later finds you and him in his studio. More artwork hangs on the walls. He’s brought home the framed drawing you and he had done and it now hangs on the wall. As you finish lighting the candles and strategically placing them around the room (the sun hasn’t completely set yet), Marcus gets his sketchpad and charcoal. 

This has become a semi-frequent activity for you. It usually ends the same way, with him whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ears before he takes you slowly and sweetly on the floor, spread out on a dropcloth. He’s generous and attentive and always makes sure you get your pleasure first before he gets his own. Sometimes it’s quick and frantic, but even then, Marcus makes sure you’re both getting what you need. You love him and his need to show his love for you. He needs you to know that he loves you and shows you in many ways, every day. 

“I still want to do one where it’s both of us,” you say as you settle on the couch. 

“An artist is never their own subject,” Marcus says primly, trying to hide something. You narrow your eyes at him. “Okay, okay,” he relents. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m still waiting on a camera with a timer.” He already has a photo printer for work that he’s also taken home (since it was his to begin with). “Do you want to do it together?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

Your position is a bit off, he reaches out and adjusts you. Though this is not new, his touch still sends shockwaves through your body. You will never get tired of his touch, of him. 

He draws you, the intimacy heightened as a result of the candlelight and setting sun. The ambience is different and you love it. It’s always different, each time he draws you, but this time? There’s something else. 

The words hang on your lips for a long time, not wanting to distract him. They stay put even as he begins to kiss you on the couch, working his lips down, down, down… Even as your legs go up over his shoulders, all you can say is his name in ecstasy. 

It isn’t until you’re lying in bed together later that Marcus makes mention of it. “What’s on your mind?” he murmurs. 

You mean to broach the subject a bit more gracefully, but it just slips out. “What if we get married?” 

Marcus blinks slowly, making sure he hears you correctly. You never thought you were going to marry again after your divorce, but then Marcus Miguel Pike walked into your life, into your heart and you never want him to leave. You can’t picture a life without him. 

“I know I said I wasn’t sure,” you continue. “But I-I love you so much and I never want us to be apart. You’ve made me realize what I want in life and that’s to be with you, by your side. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. I never will.” You don’t realize you have tears streaming down your face until Marcus brings a hand to your cheek to wipe them away tenderly. He kisses you sweetly, says your name with such affection it nearly makes you sob with how much you love him. “You’re the love of my life and my best friend. I never thought… Never dreamed that after him… But then I met you and I’m so glad that I did because being with you is all I want; I can’t think of a better way to spend my life than being married to my best friend. So I’m asking if you want to marry me.”

Marcus’s own eyes are glazed with tears. He says your name again. “Of course I want to marry you, are you kidding?” he tries to tease. Your laugh is watery and he kisses you. “I love you so much, how could I ever want to live a life without you in it?” 

Marcus sits up. “Give me one second,” he says, making his way to the dresser. He rummages around in his sock drawer — where you had found his gun and badge — before coming back with something in his hand. He gives it to you. It’s a small velvet box. “I’ve been planning on giving this to you. I was going to give it to you next week on the anniversary of the first time we officially met. It’s meant to be either an engagement ring or a… well, I guess a promise ring? Because even if we don’t get married, I want to be with you.” You open the box. It’s a simple ring with diamonds etched into it. It’s perfect. “I had this whole plan of asking you at dinner, I was going to take you to the bistro where we officially met and ask you there. But this is much better.” He takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger. It fits perfectly. 

You meet his lips for a kiss. You can’t believe that this is your life sometimes, that you’re in love with the man of your dreams. It had never been in the plans to fall for someone so soon, but as soon as you met Marcus, those plans had been wrecked. And you couldn’t be happier that they were.

The End

--- taglist in reblog

[hey-have-you-heard]

Hey, Have You Heard These 50 Tracks from 2022

As is the tradition around these parts I have once again compiled a list of 50 tracks from this year that I felt worthy of highlighting for one reason or other. Some incredibly strong releases this year meant I had to make some brutal cuts to the list, but I’m happy with what I narrowed it down to in the end. As always songs are in alphabetical order (there is no internal rating to the 50) but if I had to choose a single song of the year it would be Gendering Teddy by The Narcissist Cookbook, please listen to that track if nothing else. A Spotify playlist of the included songs is linked below for your listening pleasure.

Spy — 1-800 Let’s start this list with a bang. Spy has been consistently making some of the most to-the-point, brutally efficient hardcore in the scene of late, and this year was no exception. No nonsense, viscerally malevolent fun.

Blood Command — A Questionable Taste in Friends Blood Command released their first full-length with ex-pagan vocalist Nikki Brumen this year. And it is a delight. Tasty pop hooks, groovy instrumental sections, and it isn’t afraid to get disgustingly heavy when it needs to. I could have easily put any track from Praise Armageddon on this list, but the woo-oos here win it for me.

CLT DRP — Aftermath (CW: SA/abuse/gendered violence/trauma) So, ummm… content warning… things might get heavy on this list. This is a song about SA/gendered violence, and it doesn’t shy away from the subject in any way. CLT DRP strip back the fury and energy of their usual sound for a deeply personal rumination on generational trauma caused by existing in a patriarchal society where harassment is seen as a routine part of life and abuse could come from anywhere. “I’m just as afraid of the men I know as I am of these strangers.” It’s about how, in a post-me-too world, as men are starting to find their repentance in confessing to their faults, women and non-binary people are still left picking up the shattered pieces of our lives left in their wake.

ZAND — Battery Acid (CW: abusive relationships) It’s a coincidence that this landed next to Aftermath on this list, a coincidence but a fitting one. A bittersweet queer story about escaping from an abusive relationship and finding strength and solace in the arms of someone new. The sparse instrument here is beautiful, letting the storytelling take centre stage. The change of lyrics in the final chorus is such a triumphant moment as the narrator overcomes the hold their boyfriend has on them and gains the inner resolve to end things.

Carly Rae Jepsen — Beach House That’s enough deep stuff for now. Back to fun songs — and who else can do fun like CRJ!? Beach House is a wonderfully tongue-in-cheek pop song about the woes of trying to date men. It’s full of great character and charisma.

Brutus — Brave Everything that makes Brutus so exciting is on full display on Brave. Starting at a breakneck pace before effortlessly dancing between elements of hardcore punk and post-rock. Drummer-vocalist Stefanie Mannaerts is a force to be reckoned with as their voice switches from gravelly shouts to ethereal choruses as the track never lets up.

Enter Shikari — Bull (ft. Cody Frost) Hey, Enter Shikari, more of this, please. Cody Frost brings a raucous youthful energy back to Shikari’s sound. Everything that always made them so interesting is working here, but there’s also that extra element that pushes this into being something special. This is going to be incredible live.

Evie Enby — Christmas Fears Oh shit how did this get in here? Look, this is my list, and I’ll use it to pat myself on the back if I want to. While I’ll be the first to admit Christmas Fears doesn’t deserve a space on this list through any technical merit; writing, recording, producing and releasing a song was an insane personal achievement for me, helping to pave the way for what I’m planning for 2023 and so it is personally one of my top tracks of the year.

Baby Dave — Clarence’s Dead Dad Isaac Holman of Soft Play [formerly Slaves] swaps punk attitude and drums for personal storytelling and synths for his solo project, Baby Dave. Clarence’ is a song that just gets weirder the longer it goes on, buoyed along by Damon Albarn’s masterful production, adding to the weirdness.

HEALTH & Lamb Of God — Cold Blood This is the most I’ve enjoyed anything Lamb Of God related in a while, HEALTH have a masterful ear for collaborations (just look at everybody they’ve worked with throughout their career) and the balance they strike against Randy Blythe’s iconic growled vocal timbre is nothing short of sublime.

Andy Morin & Backxwash — Dig Yourself a Grave Speaking of great collaborations… Andy Morin may be best known as one of the people who makes noises in Death Grips, but he makes a strong claim to be known on his own merit here. The production is huge as Backxwash’ ‘s always brilliant bars cut across layers of heavily distorted synths and fog horn stabs of noise.

Whitmer Thomas — Don’t Have a Cow This song is so sweet. A three-chord, post-breakup lament. Reflecting on how people and relationships change, about the impacts we leave on the people whom we invite into our lives. I adore how the sparse indifferent instrumentation gives way to a swelling cacophony of emotion in the final moments. It feels almost cinematic.

100 Gecs — Doritos & Fritos Something about eating burritos with Danny DeVito? I have no idea what’s going on here, but it SLAPS (do the kids still say slaps?) The punchy bass that could be straight out of Feelgood Inc., the Sonic Youth guitars. It’s a romp.

Petrol Girls ft. Janey Starling — Fight For Our Lives Fight For Our Lives carries a desperate urgency that is so tangible in Petrol Girls’ live performances but rarely translates this well to record. This is the sound of anger. This is the sound of direct action. This is the sound of a fight for survival.

Zeal & Ardor — Firewake Up until last week, I had a totally different Z&A track on this list. Then Firewake was released as a part of Subpop’s record club and I had to reassess everything. There’s so much going on here and I love every second of it. The mournful opening, the military drums that morph into hellish machine gunfire, that bass melody that punches through in the chorus, Manuel Gagneux’s germanic black metal screeches about a war for everything. Metal songs about war will never beat Metallica’s Disposable Heroes, but this comes close.

Teenage Halloween — Floating Sometimes, a lyric rings so true that it hits you right at your core, and you have no choice but to put it in your top songs of the year list. That’s what happened here. It’s not even that brilliantly formed a lyric. It just struck me with its brutality and simplicity.

Cancer Bats & Amy Walpole — Friday Night Friday Night is a party anthem for the misfits. Joined by Witch Fever’s Amy Walpole (more on them later) Cancer Bats smash through a refreshingly sincere ode to celebrating who you are and shaking off the haters as Tay Tay might say.

The Narcissist Cookbook — Gendering Teddy Okay, this isn’t just an essay about the history of mathematics. Stick with it. I don’t want to say too much, because discovering this track for the first time was one of my favourite music moments of the year, and I want you, dear reader, to share in that experience.

Creeper — Ghost Brigade Of course, new Creeper is going to make this list… after a sold-out show at Camden Roundhouse, Creeper announced that they were signing to Spinefarm Records, their current era was coming to an end and a new single had been released. Ghost Brigade feels like a return to their roots, full of punk energy with more than a splash of their signature theatricality. When the bells first rang out in the chorus, my heart sang.

Ada Rook — Gravity Weapon Hold on to your fuckin balls, this is gonna kill you.

Asunojokei — Heavenward I think a big part of what drew me to this track this year is how fascinating its production is. At its most frenetic moments, everything gets muddled together into a maelstrom of noise before a single element is flung outwards to the listener. It’s that same sense of dense layered noise that made Deftones so captivating on their best records, but here applied to a post-black-metal, shoegazey, math-rock behemoth of a track.

Electric Callboy — Hurrikan Not to spoil the ride, but strap in, this may be the wildest thing you hear all year.

Kid Kapichi — I.N.V.U Kid Kapichi are one of the bands ensuring that the new wave of British post-punk that was first bought to the mainstream consciousness with bands like Idles last decade isnt going to stagnate anytime soon. I.N.V.U brings a laddish 90s britpop swagger to the genre and the result is thoroughly entertaining.

Witch Fever — I Saw You Dancing I told you we’d get back to Witch Fever. I love this piece as a companion to The Beatles “I Saw Her Standing There”. Turning John and Paul’s sweet ‘love song’ into a horror story, a commentary on the implicit entitlement and ownership men feel over women’s bodies. The way vocalist Amy Walpole repeatedly screams “Oh, my how you’ve grown” is as nightmare inducing as any slasher, as the song is driven along by a disgustingly sinister bassline.

Fontaines D.C. — In ár gCroíthe go deo Any song that gets you deepdiving into a legal case regarding language used on a gravestsone has to be doing something right. In ár gCroíthe go deo (which roughly translates to ‘in our hearts forever’) is a song that speaks of being away from home in a place that tries to erase your heritage. There’s a sense of deep anxiety to the mechanically rigid Joy Division style bassline, the drums skitter uneasily and there’s a trembling fear to frontman Grian Chatten’s voice as it slowly rises in intensity to the climax of the song. A remarkable opener to a remarkable album.

Annie DiRusso — Infinite Jest When the dams of this song break in all of their reverby garage rock glory, its an unmatched moment of fantastic cathartic release… but the build up to get there is just as good.

Orville Peck — Kalahari Down I’m not generally a fan of country, but theres some intangible element to Orville Peck’s work that just gets to me. It’s like… it’s clear he’s doing country as a ‘character bit’ but it’s not pastichey, its not played for comedy, its sincere and honest. Apparently the artist behind Orville Peck used to be in a punk band, and I think that punk approach to music comes across in spirit if not sound here. Anyway, I’m rambling… this is just a brilliantly crafted, emotionally honest song and I love it.

Nova Twins — K.M.B. Nova Twins channel a mix of Destiny’s Child and their own inimitable sound into a gleefully violent revenge fantasy.

Ezra Furman — Lilac and Black My love for Ezra Furmans music is well known, her journey of gender identity has closely tracked with my own and her music has been a constant source of comfort to remind myself I’m not alone at my darkest moments. I needed this rallying cry — this call to action — this year and as always, Ezra delivered.

The Hellp — meant2be This is just another fun one, I’m a sucker for somebody yelling WOO through a vocal distorter and this song brings me a lot of uncomplicated joy.

Taylor Swift — Midnight Rain Ever since Lorde’s Pure Heroine turned the pop world on its head in 2013 (wow, I feel old), there’s an argument to be made that the slow Antanoff-ication of pop music is a bad thing. But then it will turn out a track like this and we have to ask ourselves, is that really such a bad thing?

Alice Longyu Gao — MONK Okay, so you know earlier when I said that Hurrikan may be the wildest thing you’d hear this year? I lied.

L.S. Dunes — Permanent Rebellion Emo is well and truly back baby! Featuring members of MCR, Circa Survive, Thursday and Coheed and Cambria, L.S. Dunes is the supergroup of my formative musical years and if this track is anything to go by they are not fucking around.

Bob Vylan — Pretty Songs Bob Vylan are arguably the most important band in the UK right now and no punches are being pulled here. Pretty Songs is as straightforward as punk gets, a simple message, we’re here to fight for what we believe in.

The Garden — Puerta de Limosina Puerta starts off with what I affectionately like to call a “the drummer fell down a flight of stairs” intro and things just get more chaotic from there. This one won’t be for everybody, but I revel in its insanity. Also, the bass tone, delicious.

Ibraki ft. Gerard Way — Ronin Gerard Way doing black metal vocals? Yes please. Ibraki is the project of Trivium frontman Matt Heafy, who can be heard putting in tremendous effort to not be totally overshadowed by the aforementioned Way here. Even outside of the phenomenal vocal performances, Ronin is a formidable track, a 9 minute long black metal epic with guitar work from Emperor’s Ihsahn, telling the story of an ancient japanese warrior bent on vengance.

Paledusk ft. Hideyoshi — Slay!! Slay!! defies genre with such reckless abandon it seems pointless to write a description. I love the jazzy guitar lick that crops up throughout this track before getting absolutely bulldozed by some fresh new idea. Its impossible to guess where the song could go from moment to moment and I could wish for no greater entertainment.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs & Perfume Genius — Spitting Off The Edge of the World Karen O has long been one of my favourite vocalists, but I never truly clicked with the musical direction Yeah Yeah Yeahs went after their debut. This though, this i really like. That soft, analog Perfume Genius sound mixes perectly with Karens vocals. Beauty within doom. A perfect soundtrack to the end times.

Johnny Booth — Storyteller God damn, this slaps. Hard. If you like Dillinger Escape Plan, you’ll love this. Breakneck, hundred riffs a minute, mathcore. It’s exciting, it’s energetic, and it feels so wonderfully fresh.

My Chemical Romance — Foundations of Decay Here it is boys. The big one, the reunion we’ve all been waiting for. I didnt know if new MCR was anything we were ever going to get and even if we did, if it would be something worth having. Let me tell you, IT IS WORTH HAVING. The lofi production speaks more to their debut than the more commercial sounds of their later works, its been leveled as a criticism of the track by some but personally works for me. This is the sound of a band rediscovering, re-igniting their flame in the best way possible, I cant wait to see what’s next from the my chem boys.

Ithaca — The Future Says Thank You If you haven’t been watching Ithaca up to this point, its time to start watching. They’ve probably been one of your favourite metal musicians favourite bands since the release of their debut in 2019, and 2022 was their year. Their knack for blending a killer hook with absolutely brutal genre blending metal violence is second to none.

Paramore — The News In case this list hadn’t quite made it clear yet, 2022 was the year to herald the return of emo. Not only with the reformation of My Chem, but with new material from Paramore. The news recaptures the angst iin Hayley Williams vocals present in their earlier work while throwing in a more current decade twist to keep things modern. If i have one complaint here, I just wish that the production leaned sligjtly heavier, it’s a minor gripe though.

Pupil Slicer & Cara Drolshagen — Thermal Runaway Pupil Fuckin Slicer. Holy shit. Just when I thought there was no way they could top their 2021 debut, Mirrors, they release this absolute monster of a track. Featuring guest vocals from The Armed’s Cara Drolshagen, Thermal Runaway smashes everything before it out of contention. Special mention to that satisfying af bass solo before everything descends into total brutality in the breakdown.

Let’s Eat Grandma — Two Ribbons Two ribbons is a song about grief, its about how grief affects relationships, its about a desire for connection, its about mending things that have been broken for too long. I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Black Dresses — u_u2 Devi McCallon and Ada Rook continue to make some of the ,ost uncomprising and relentlessly distressing music possible under the Black Dresses name. u_u2 is a song that bristles with the internal torture of gender dysphoria. It’s aggressive, confrontational and sounds incredible.

Sam Smith, Kim Petras & Nova Twins — Unholy (remix) I wanted to like Unholy, I really did. A hit collaboration between a trans and non-binary artist? Kim Petras in the charts? Of course I wish I could stan. But the original song just felt toothless to me, I needed it to have more bite. Then along came Nova Twins with a veritable treasure trove of teeth (this metaphor got away from me). Anyway, Nova Twins inject the energy that was always missing from Unholy for me, and now I cant stop listening to it.

The HIRS Collective & Shirley Manson — We’re Still Here “This collective, a version of therapy, for ourselves and anyone who feels the need to scream their lungs out for one more day of living. We’re still here.” A-fucking-men to that.

Architects — When We Were Young Architects’ “The Classic Symptoms of a Broken Heart” was met with a mixed reception upon release, but I was there for the album launch show and let me tell you, the new stuff goes hard live. Especially this track, the almost Refused like punk energy at the heart of the track propels the band into a different tone from their previoous work but its one they suit surprisingly well.

Muse — You Make Me Feel Like It’s Halloween “Halloween” asks the question, what if Matt Belllamy listened to a shit tonne of Ghost, the answer is pure camp delight.

Poly-Math — Zenith What’s a top 50 list without some chaotically dark unhinged jazzy math rock to close things out? Fortunately Brighton-based mainstays for this particular niche have us well and truly covered. The sax work by Chris Olsen on Zenith is of particular note as it spirals off into total insanity in the final movements.

[natromanxoff]

Roger Taylor live at the Shepherds Bush Empire in London, UK - October 14, 1998

Fan Stories

“Roger's first 'proper' gig for almost 4 years. London. Queen Heaven were there. 8.30pm. Treana Morris comes onstage. A pleasant enough acoustic set which included Sleeping On The Sidewalk (a nice surprise - wonder if Brian knew about this...) and Ticket To Ride, but frankly, the crowd were here to see Roger Taylor, although Morris was given a pretty good reception. After a shortish set (around 20-25 mins) she left the stage, and back came the taped music. At 9.15, during the song Now That The Magic Has Gone, the roadies start to tune the guitars up - this MUST be the moment, no? No. False alarm. 9.18pm. The lights dim and the air is filled with the unmistakeable intro to We Will Rock You. But hang on a minute - that's not Roger playing...that's Keith Prior, and there's a second empty drumkit onstage... The beat gets stronger and the audience hand clapping is ecstatic. Suddenly Rog appears at the other kit and joins the beat. The crowd go wild. It has begun. After a lengthy intro, Rog came downstage and began the first verse. WHAT a welcome! After a 6 minute screaming version of WWRY - at the end of which Rog rejoined his kit for a killer of a finale - he came back and introduced the next number - Pressure On, which was INCREDIBLY heavy and had an amazingly full sound to it. The downstairs of the venue was already rocking, but the balconies were a tad more reserved. Next was Nation Of Haircuts, and a point worth mentioning was the line "You're so fucking cool", which the audience screamed at Rog, easily drowning the band out. Then followed Believe in Yourself, People On Streets, (No, he *didn't* perform all of the odd list, foiling our desperate attempts to fill in that missing word..) and the much-awaited No More Fun - a track performed with such energy that it seemed as though it couldn't get any higher. Then the mood changed. "If we are capable of such a thing - this is a delicate love song" - was how Rog introduced Tonight. Falloon repeated his stunning Spanish guitar on this track live, and was, for me, one of the highlights of the show. Next came the first surprise. Roger introduced Treana Morris and Jonathan Perkins, who performed the vocals of Surrender, with Taylor restricting himself to the drums, without singing. After an uneasy start, this song erupted into the wall of sound it threatens to, but doesn't quite make, on the album. Perkins is a fine vocalist, hitting those high notes with the best of them, and the coupling of Perkins and Morris really displayed what an angry, aggressive song this is. Then it was time for, presumably, one of Perkins' own songs, She's Rich, "dedicated to my soon to be future ex-wife" Although a great track, the audience were getting restless for Roger... Then back he trotted for a brief announcement - "This is the guest part of the evening, so please welcome Uncle Bob Geldof" And yes, it was true. Sir Bob appeared and performed Bob Dylan's Like A Rolling Stone to tumultuous applause. What a moment. London Town, C'mon Down brought Roger back into the spotlight, and it has to be said, it THUNDERED - by now the balcony were on their feet too. Then it was "Queen Time" After a beautiful version of These Are The Days Of Our Lives, with Rog on marracas, he launched into I'm In Love With My Car ("Sing it!!" - and they did..) and then Tenement Funster and once again, we really *were* back in the old days. It was then the turn of Strange Frontier, and, apart from the guitars losing their way halfway though, it was soon back on course, and rapturously received. Then, all too soon, Roger blew a kiss and was gone...

...but not for long. A Kind Of Magic came next (guitar solo a bit of a let-down, but hey, this ain't Brian playing), and then, finally, an extended Radio Ga Ga. You had to have heard the volume of the handclapping to believe this - a fine end to a fine evening. A 90 minute set that ended far too quickly, but there you have it. Doing what he does best to a capacity crowd (approx 2000) must have made Roger pretty chuffed that he decided on doing this show. Will he tour? Who knows...but he can surely be in no doubt that there's an audience out there, gagging for the brand of raw, powerful, performance rock that Roger Taylor excels at. There is one ray of hope - there were flyers being given out which said "If you...would like to receive further upfront information on Roger Taylor releases, live plans and exclusive offers then simply fill in the..form.." What CAN this mean? Of course, the card is merely a database building exercise from EMI, but I wonder just what plans are afoot...” - Gaz

(x)

[bleedingforyouinternally]

I wrote a letter to my ex that will never be sent.

{Tattooed of you through life til death. And following after.

I only started getting tattoos once I graduated high school, but through out those following years I have acquired over thirteen more. I was already stamped with the articulate clips, essentially cut to image, the thumbnail from each adventure within time. My visible reminders expressed of those moments that hold part in creating the portrait painting of me - being written so freely on the pages in a book… my book that is intended to end in publication of my course I had taken, to fulfill the years of time within a lifetime - beginning to end. They are of purpose, of guarantee those reminders of the inability to slip from my own consciousness of truth.

In all, they are the main parts that run the system with faculty to its manufacturing of the display that’s who I am per result of the escapade of time. They are processed with me and mended closer into the finish.

subsequently with me showing you the parts of me that furnished the space thats held by the door that is now open to you. Not just opened, but held by me for you, unprecedented but without hold to the seal of its full cover that layers the entirely of the skeletal shield; contained of high voltage waves of energy, and each blinding sliver of light fully embedded it’s charge together as my soul. The soul that attains every ounce of emotion. Notion to being max compact, the hold with shown cracks of weathering - although is slow - still actively seeping with emotions into my core. The course of them entrancing me with traveling all through my veins. You held a spellbind on me sending my full will to obliging, in fascination to let you through.

You know.. the life we shared for years, and how etched into one another we once were - that is of course before the end, under cloudy spaces. Placed now the headstones engraved into - interrupting of our evil pretenses used against each other in war. With what was unanticipated, because of such an aching reality, only led us to succumb to our injuries that we inflicted on one another. Evident still the depth of love we share, that stains the space that surrounds the rest of life…

with our story never finished, but instead rooted in the ground, talking hold of this place of us two.

I still can’t fathom the power you held, to trigger all parts of me. you quickly gained access to a different part inside of me; the gates that contain what’s in each pages that is written the periods in my life but now revolutionized to ours - the aligning of our paths, but if we stayed course with each others, venture. Publication of us no longer exists.

Regardless, you’re the love i always and forever was meant to adapt and exhibit, while redacting the same I held in me, back to you. Countless moments of us now locked even more deep within me, a vault so safe with the absolute of us now and always locked in me, indefinitely.

The soul energy we both bleed for us, so much our treasured keeper, now deports a portfolio surfaced in me that displays layers of our moments, in our time now inked by you… by us.. eternally.

I am a human canvass, with this art all over.

My love is forever for you.}

Just sharing. Have a lovely evening

this just has my heart. and so much of it. thank you, for sharing this to me sweetheart. it’s definitely one of the most rawest, loveliest piece of art I have ever read. and I meant it with my whole heart. this is one of the most beautiful ways pain could be the one to bleed into the depths of your body. and you captured that very well. again, thank you, for sharing this piece of your heart.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Yamada: so how did you and izuku start dating

Aizawa: I saw him crush a watermelon with his thighs and I accidentally said out loud “oh god I wish that were me right now” and here we are now

~The way this immediately and completely ate my entire brain~

Of three things Aizawa Shouta is absolutely sure:

One, he simply was not built for operating during the daylight hours. Nighttime really is where it's at in his opinion. The general lack of crowds and eye-searing sunlight just can't be beaten. (Dusk and dawn hours also get a pass but they're both on thin ice.)

Two, the beach is a sandy hell-scape whose only redeeming factor is the convenient access it provides to the eldritch horror that is the ocean aka the place he'll doubtlessly end up drowning himself when he finally, and according to Hizashi inevitably, snaps and runs gibbering mad into the abyss.

And three, he's absolutely and irrevocably cursed. He's being singled out and punished from on high by the gods themselves. His name is writ large across the cosmos in mockery. There is a cosmic "kick me" sign taped to his spiritual back and Shouta's going to hunt his former student Sero down and give him detention for life for encouraging his family's patron god to put it there.

By this point it's really the only logical explanation.

Which, as a card-carrying atheist, he's pretty sure is saying something about the depth of his feelings regarding his current circumstances.

Because there's no other explanation for why or how he's managed to find himself in this current situation.

The situation being, of course, Shouta, in full hero gear, standing in the hot sun on a pristine sandy beach, surrounded by screaming fans as he provides extra security and crowd control for the 20th Annual Heroic Sukiwari Charity Drive.

Shouta has seen hell and it is both Ms. Joke's open mic night and this exact moment right here.

Because, again, he's absolutely 100% cursed.

And the avatar of said curse is, obviously, his soon-to-be ex-best friend who somehow roped him into this entire thing.

Because some people say divine retribution when talking about cosmic revenge plots but Shouta tends to just says Yamada Hizashi. The two are, in many ways, interchangeable.

Shouta's going to put purify salts in all of Hizashi's hair products and also his sugar jar and possibly his energy drinks the next chance he gets.

Because if he never sees another shirtless pro-hero or another watermelon again in his life it'll be too soon.

He's pretty sure he has permanent hearing damage from all of the screaming and screeching the crowd's been doing since this thing started.

And if, after all these years of friendship with the personification of a megaphone, watching a bunch of pro's crush watermelons with nothing but their personal strength on a beach to raise money for various charities is what finally destroys his hearing Shouta is going to shave Hizashi bald before he finally embraces sweet death.

Or enacts Nezu's birthday plans and becomes a supervillain.

The jury's honestly still out at this point.

Shouta does his best to shut out the screaming behind him as one of the cameramen slides up beside him, getting a better angle on the stage as Hizashi, who's currently screeching about Miruko's performance, practically dances across the sand in front of where Shouta's standing.

"Wow, wow, wow," Present Mic chants as he dramatically fans himself, "that was one on heart-stopping, hare-raising show. Let's give it up for everyone's favorite bad, bad, bunny, Miruko!"

For her part, Miruko just struts off the small stage with a nonchalant wave to the crowd, her tiny white bikini in place and the pulverized remains of the half dozen watermelons she'd dropped kicked into soup left behind her.

"But don't lose that rhythm yet listeners," Mic announces gleefully. "Because we've got one more hero set to take the stage! So, without further ado, it's the moment I know a lot of you have been waiting for, myself included if we're being honest. The pièce de résistance of our little shindig, the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

The crowd is absolutely deafening.

And, for once, Shouta has to grudgingly admit that he can't actually blame them.

Shirtless, sculpted shoulders and tight abs on display thanks to his low sitting and almost criminally short green swim shorts, and with his trademark bashful smile in place, Dekiru trots out from behind the curtained-off area with a crate of watermelons resting on his shoulder like it's no big deal.

Shouta's pretty sure someone to his immediate right faints but considering they're not currently a trample risk he ignores it.

But the casual show of strength with no quirk use in sight is more than a bit impressive.

For all that people, romance specifically, and attraction in general, have all been things to be considered on a firm case-by-case basis for Shouta, even he has to admit that Dekiru is ... captivating.

Rather drastically so for Shouta considering he's never actually met the man before in person.

Though Shouta does feel like he almost knows him on some level considering the fact that it really would take an act of the actual gods to get Yagi to shut up about his erstwhile protege during staff meetings.

Dekiru waves his free hand at the crowd as he sets his crate of watermelons down on the stage.

"Show us what you've got!" Mic demands from a few feet to Shouta's left. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd starts up a loud and steady chant of "De~ki~ru!" as the hero pulls his first watermelon out and begins his set.

With an effortless flex of muscles, Dekiru digs his fingers into the watermelon and wrenches it completely in two.

Shouta reaches up to tug at the top of his uniform, relishing the small sip of cool air it grants him.

Shoulders and biceps flexing, another watermelon meets its end between Dekiru's palms.

Shouta really needs to add a water bottle to his utility belt because hydration is important. Or so he's been repeatedly told.

"Those hands, those muscles," Mic groans dramatically. "He really is the Can Do Hero!"

Cheeks noticeably flushed, Dekiru sits down on the stage and fits a watermelon between thick, toned thighs.

His hips twist, those thighs flex, and the watermelon cracks, spilling juice and sweet pink flesh all over Dekiru's lap.

"Oh god," Shouta can't help but say, "I wish that was me right now."

On stage Dekiru's eyes go wide as his attention somehow abruptly zero's in on Shouta.

It's at that moment that Shouta becomes aware of the deafening silence that's fallen over the beach.

Head-turning agonizingly slowly to the left, Shouta's confronted with the sight of Mic, microphone in hand, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

His sunglasses are askew and he's staring at Shouta with a look on his face that's one part horror and one part unholy glee.

As a matter of fact, the entire beach is staring at him in much the same way.

For a moment Shouta just freezes, body going still at having so much attention turned in his direction.

This ... was not the turn he was expecting the day to take by far.

His first instinct is to, honestly, use his scarf to slingshot himself directly into the sun so his soul can be cleansed with cosmic fire.

But then ...

"Ah," Dekiru speaks up from on the stage, one hand ruffling the back of his hair and cheeks darker than before, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

There's suddenly a part of Shouta that doesn't actually want to delete himself from existence via self-immolation.

And there's an even large part that doesn't want to outright reject Dekiru's seemingly sincere offer.

Because, when it all comes down to it, Dekiru seems to be, by all accounts, what passes for exactly Shouta's type.

Whip-smart if his very public arrest record and tendency to argue online and on the air with people he disagrees with is anything to go by.

Cute, with that dark green hair and sharp undercut, matching wide eyes, and a face sprinkled liberally with freckles.

Leanly built and small enough that Shouta's sure he could move him around easily but obviously muscular enough to be able to put up just the right amount of resistance in the right situation.

And, above all else, if the stories are to be believed, obviously some degree of batshit insane.

More than one story Yagi had told during breaks had Shouta questioning if the man had imported special American demons back to Japan and then stuffed them all into the deceptively charming and approachable-looking hero that is Dekiru.

So there's really only one logical way to proceed forward in this situation.

Shouta grins.

Several people in the crowd around him step back.

He's pretty sure he hears someone start reciting a prayer.

But Dekiru just blushes, eyes locked on Shouta's and teeth tugging at his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Shouta finally says into the breathless silence that's fallen over them, "and cats."

Dekiru lights up, a smile brighter than the sun and twice as deadly blossoming across his face.

Just off of Shouta's side, Hizashi's busy having some kind of hysterical seizure.

Around them the crowd is going absolutely feral.

Yagi's going to birth actual kittens in the middle of the staff room when he finds out about this.

Shouta can't wait.

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: eren x reader

♡   —   tags/warnings: mentions of cheating and alcohol. side aruani and yumihisu. honestly just a feel-good fic, with humour and fluff <3

♡   —   a/n:  honestly, this is the most “romantic comedy” fic i’ve ever written and i love it <3 shout out to @ofoceansandtombstones​ that beta read this one mwah thank u

♡   —   masterlist

There was an ill taste in your mouth that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many drinks you had. And you already had more than a few. From your spot on the table, you could see your friends dancing and having the time of their lives. You really wished you could join them. Nevertheless, you had wasted all your energy forcing a smile and clapping along during the ceremony. Once you had arrived at the hotel reception with the rest of the guests, you had slid a bill to a kind waitress and told her to keep the drinks coming. 

Ymir and Historia were dancing in front of you. Stoic, sour-faced Ymir couldn’t help but smile as her sweet girlfriend twirled and giggled, her cheeks red and eyes just the tiniest bit unfocused. Next to them, Sasha, Jean and Connie were owning the dance floor, moving in sync to the happy music. A grin formed on your face as you saw Connie lifting Sasha up and her almost falling to the floor. Jean was holding his stomach as he laughed loudly.

On a nearby table, Mikasa looked over at them, a small smile on his lips. She was sitting next to her girlfriend, who was holding her hand as they watched their friends dance. You saw her girlfriend leaning over to her and whispering something in her ear, to which she chuckled. It was so strange -and so beautiful- to see Mikasa laugh that it took you aback. And apparently, also the girl she was with, because her lips slightly parted as she watched her in awe.

“How’s the party animal doing?”

You looked up and saw Eren staring down at you with a funny expression. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt. The first two buttons were undone, and he was carrying his suit jacket over his shoulder and a beer on his other hand.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye out for everyone,” you replied with a shrug. Eren scoffed and took the seat next to you on the empty table, leaving his jacket on the nearest chair.

“I mean, I know attending your ex’s wedding isn’t bound to be a good time, but you’d think you would try to put on a happy face.”

You rolled your eyes. “Hey, at least I’m here.”

“After Mikasa tried her best to convince you during a whole week,” he said. You turned your head to Eren, eyes wide open. “What? Of course she told me.”

“That little… That’s it, I’m going to tell her girlfriend about that one time Mikasa got drunk with us,” you muttered angrily, standing up. Eren was quicker and pulled you back to your seat.

“You and Armin broke up a year ago. Why are you so upset he’s moving on?”

Before you could answer, the music stopped and the dance floor erupted in applause. Eren and you watched as Armin and Annie walked in between their guests, greeting everyone as they made their way to the bride and groom table, covered with a pearl cloth and decorated with the finest flowers. Every detail screamed elegance and you knew Armin had been the one to decide most of it. It had his taste written in every napkin and strategically placed flower.

Armin’s smile was almost too big for his face and if you had to guess, those small red marks on the external corner of his eyes meant he had been crying just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes. So sentimental. On the other hand, Annie’s smile was far less noticeable, but for someone who always repressed her public displays of emotions as much, that little smile must have felt heavenly to her new husband.

Husband. You took a big gulp of your drink.

“I’m telling you this because I care for you,” Eren said, redirecting your attention to him. “You’re looking like a petty ex.”

“Rather be petty than a cheater,” you shrugged, finishing your drink. You gestured to the waitress and she immediately walked to you, handing you a full glass. Thanking her, you wasted no time in taking a sip.

Eren’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Armin never told you why we broke up, right?”

Eren scooted his chair closer to you and you bit back a laugh.

“He said you just weren’t good together,” he said, trying to remember his friend’s words. “And you said something similar when I asked you back then. Where does this ‘cheating’ thing come from?”

You let out a long sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t cheating. Not by definition, at least. But when your boyfriend starts dating someone else a week after you broke up a two-year-long relationship and he gets engaged four months later… you draw your own conclusions,” you explained, taking another sip of your drink and making a grimace. “Fuck, this one’s strong.”

After not getting a response from Eren for a long moment, you finally turned to look for his emerald eyes. You could almost see the numbers flying around his mind, trying to make sense of everything you had just told him. It was endearing.

“Wait, no-- wait,” Eren gestured at you with his hand. He stopped himself again and took a sip of his beer. “The first time Armin told me about Annie was in February. I remember it clearly. We were shopping for Mikasa’s birthday gift and then he went to pick something for Annie. And you guys broke up around Halloween, that’s the time I found you crying-- in Jean's backyard during our costume party.”

“We had a big fight at that party. We hadn’t broken up,” you clarified with a smirk. “He broke up with me after Mikasa’s birthday party. The same party he convinced me not to attend.”

Eren’s face dropped once all the pieces clicked together. He turned his body to look at the bride and groom table, where Armin and Annie were taking a sip of their champagne glasses and talking to each other enthusiastically, while the rest of their guests kept dancing.

“That son of a bitch,” he breathed out. You burst out laughing at his reaction. “No, I mean it! I really thought you had broken up during that Halloween party! You didn’t upload any more photos together, I don’t even remember even seeing you together--”

“I told you, we were fighting and… not in the mood for photos or public dates. Most of those months were spent at his apartment, fighting over really, really stupid things or just not texting each other for days,” you explained. “Honestly, when he broke up with me he made the decision I was too afraid to take. He was right, we weren’t good for each other anymore. But... fuck,” you chuckled icily. “I wish he would have broken up with me before getting with Annie.”

Eren listened in silence, his eyes still on his friend. You gave him time as you kept drinking, your gaze drifting to your friends again. You really wished you could have the energy to join them and forget Armin and Annie. It was true you didn’t love him anymore, yet seeing them together only made you remember how you had been fooled by someone you thought loved you the most.

You had had many dates ever since, but no one ever stuck. It was fun, getting someone’s attention for a couple of weeks, but then you couldn’t help but ghost them, putting up shitty excuses like wanting to focus on yourself and not having enough time to spare with them. You had lost so many amazing opportunities with both boys and girls that a couple of months ago you had decided to stop dating at all. It was lonely for sure, but at least you didn’t find yourself feeling guilty for not being able to open yourself up emotionally for someone else.

“Want to get back at him?”

You turned to Eren so fast you almost hurt your neck.

“What?”

“I have an idea. Just play along,” he explained, standing up.

“Eren, hey, what are you--”

“Everybody! If you could give me a minute please!”

You watched horrified as your friends started turning to you and Eren, confused at the commotion. Eren kept waving his hand, gathering more and more people’s attention, Armin and Annie included. He even gestured to the DJ to lower the music and she complied. In a few seconds, all the guests of the party were looking at you, who was still sitting down with a confused expression, a drink in your hand. Once he deemed enough people were looking at him, you saw him fumbling with his hands nervously.

“Eren,” you called for him again in a whisper, but all he did was take the drink you had in your hands and put it on the table.

“Sorry for interrupting, I know a lot of you were having a lot of fun dancing. But all I’m asking is one minute of your time. I hope that’s okay with you guys,” he grinned back to the bride and groom table, where they were as confused as all the guests around. “I have something really important to say.”

“Eren, no, you can’t tell them about--”

“No, no, give me a moment,” he hushed you again. The DJ walked to both of you and handed an inalambric microphone to Eren.

You didn’t like how devilish his smile turned.

“Great, thanks, this is much better,” he told the DJ, who just kindly smiled at him. “Anyway, I don’t want to take much of the bride and groom’s time, so I’ll try to be concise. The thing is…” he said, turning to face you. “I love you.”

Your mouth flew open as you heard multiple gasps coming from the guests. Yet, you couldn’t bother with looking anywhere but Eren’s eyes. What was he doing? Since when did he have feelings for you? If he wanted to say something, he could have easily said something a few minutes ago, when--

Just play along.

Oh.

Your questioning glare turned into a big smile and you noticed Eren softly nodding at you.

“You already know how much I love you. Honestly, I never get tired of telling you so. And hiding our love from our friends has probably been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Sorry about that, Mikasa,” he said, gesturing to the woman.

You could imagine your friend’s dumbfounded face, but you knew better than to turn and check for yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold in your laughter.

“So I’m here in front of all our friends and some other guests I don’t know to ask a simple question.”

In a swift movement, Eren got down on one knee. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, trying your best to hide any trace of laughing on your face. The flash of the cameras startled you for a moment, but that only meant Eren’s plan was working. The excited murmurs and squeals only fueled Eren, as he pulled up a ring and showed it to you. You immediately recognized it as one of the rings he had been wearing a few moments ago. 

“Would you marry me?”

A huge, honest grin made its way to your face and you nodded quickly. You grabbed the microphone Eren was holding and spoke right into it.

“Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You hadn’t listened to a crowd erupting in applause and cheers as loud as the guests at Armin’s wedding when Eren slid his ring on your finger. Once again, the flash of the cameras were right into the both of you as you leaped into his arms. He stood up while holding your body close to him, even giving you a small spin and you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

When he finally put you down, the music resumed and all your friends began running to the both of you.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you whispered to Eren, holding his face between your hands. He laughed.

“Kinda ruined the reception, huh?”

“When the fuck did this happen?” Jean inquired as soon as he reached you.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us?” Sasha whined, with a small pout. “But congratulations!” she quickly followed, hugging you tightly. As you hugged her back, you felt someone taking the hand that was now wearing Eren’s ring.

“This is one of your rings,” she noted, shooting Eren a dirty glance. He lifted his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I didn’t plan this! But I will get her a prettier one soon,” he said, winking at you. You laughed and shook your head.

“Nah, I like this one,” you replied. You shared a knowing grin and soon it was Connie’s turn to hug you.

While you were hugging your friend back, you saw in the corner of your eye Armin getting up from the table and starting to walk to both of you. Your smile immediately vanished from your face and once Eren caught it and followed your eye trail, he understood the reason why. You heard him mutter a curse before he pulled you from Connie’s embrace.

“Well, we’d love to stay, but my fiancée and I want some time alone.”

“C’mon, you haven’t told us yet how you got together!” Sasha complained.

“Next time, we promise,” you hurriedly assured her.

Eren picked his suit jacket from the table and before Armin could reach your group, you quickly walked away, exiting the hotel. Eren whistled to a taxi and you jumped inside, telling the man behind the wheel to drive. Loud laughter filled the vehicle as soon as it began moving.

“How-- how did you even have this idea?” you asked him, holding your stomach as you laughed. “Dude, Armin looked so upset, we totally stole his thunder.”

“That was the plan,” Eren shrugged, a winning smirk on his lips. “Knowing the gang, everybody’s going to be talking about us and the engagement for the rest of the party.”

“Remind me to never have you as an enemy,” you chuckled, leaning back on the car seat. Letting out a long sigh, you took off Eren’s ring and handed it to him.

He shook his head. “Nah, keep it. As a souvenir of today,” he winked.

“Thank you,” you smiled. You put the ring on your thumb this time, since it was too big for your ring finger anyway. “You didn’t have to do this at all, and yet--”

“It’s okay,” he assured you.

“No, really. It’s just-- I’ve been having a tough time since the breakup,” you admitted. “To have you doing this for me means a lot. Makes me feel someone really cares for me. I never said anything to anyone back then because Annie is also a part of the group and I thought…”

Eren leaned his head towards you.

“You thought…?”

“I thought you would pick her too. It’s stupid, I know,” you shrugged, turning your head to Eren. “But Armin had just broken up with me and a week later he was already in public with Annie. Back then, I thought everyone knew we had just broken up and if no one had said anything was because they didn’t care. So I just… stopped hanging out with all of you as much as I did before.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he muttered.

“You did?”

Eren nodded. “That’s why I asked Mikasa to pressure you into coming to the wedding. I hadn’t seen you in a while.”

“You could have just asked me to hang out, you know,” you teased him. Eren chuckled, pushing some of his loose hairs behind his ear.

“I think we know by now I don’t take the conventional route.”

“Yeah, all of the guests know that too,” you quipped, making both of you laugh.

This time, when the laughter came to an end, you realized how close your faces were. Your noses were almost brushing as you both were lying your heads on the back of the car seat. You looked into Eren’s emerald eyes and noticed he wasn’t looking away from yours either. Was it the alcohol that made his cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink? If it was, then you could say the warmth crawling up your face was its fault too. It had to be the alcohol, or else, you would have to also ponder about the reason your heart was beating out of your chest at having your friend so close to you. He was handsome, he had always been and you knew this. But why were you losing all your composure just now?

A brief look at Eren's lips gave your thoughts away and, in less than two seconds, he was pressing his lips against yours.

For a spur-of-the-moment kiss, as you thought this one was, it was rather soft. Eren kissed you as if he thought you were the most expensive and fragile thing he had ever seen. But of course, this was just a product of the adrenaline and the fact that -as far as you knew- he hadn’t been dating anyone as well, right?

Your small theory crashed and burnt when you felt his hand softly cradling the side of your face. No. This wasn’t an adrenaline kiss, neither one that you gave without a thought. Maybe it had been unprompted and maybe you hadn’t seen it coming, but it sure as hell seemed he did. Eren’s lips gilded against your with ease, revealing a soft tenderness you didn’t know he possessed. You kissed him back, matching his rhythm as you softly pressed your hand against his chest.

Eren pulled away from you softly, and if his longing eyes were any indicator, a bit reluctantly.

“Hi,” he breathed out, making you grin widely.

“Hi,” you replied. You gently caressed his cheek with the knuckles of the hand that was previously resting on his chest. Eren took it and kissed your palm, making your heart flutter.

“Sorry to interrupt kids, but where are we heading?”

The voice of the taxi driver startled you, making you pull away from Eren. He chuckled at your reaction and then looked back at the man.

“Take us to that pizza place near the central park. Gotta have a celebratory dinner with my fiancée,” he said cheekily, taking your hand into his. You squeezed his hand back, his ring digging a little on your skin.

“So young and engaged already? Congrats!” the driver said, turning left and heading towards the direction Eren had given him.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly at Eren while he took your joint hands to his mouth and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

A part of you knew you weren’t taking that ring off anytime soon.

[honeytae]

I’ll make you forget all about him.

OKAY...doja cat came out with a new album so obviously i needed to write a piece of filth based on one of the tracks. and guys..this is MESSY alright?? i just couldn’t help myself from thinking about comparing taehyung to literally any average dude while listening to this song so...here’s this toxic, messy piece of filth. happy thotting everyone, don’t blame OC she just misses tae </3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters

genre: smut

warnings: broken up tae x reader, cheating, fingering, mentions of dirty talk but nothing too bad, kinda rough sex ngl, i wrote this in 20 mins and its unedited

word count: 800+

you right i, got my guy, but i, i, can’t help it, i want you.

++ listen here:

Kim Taehyung was captivating. Everyone that knew him, or of him, knew that.

Even down to the way he carried himself exuded an energy that everyone was drawn to, friends, family, and acquaintances alike. And despite all the guilt you carried about the very idea, you couldn’t help the thoughts, the memories, that flooded your brain whenever you saw him.

Along with the many visuals from the past taking over any normal functioning part of your mind, it didn’t help that he had to look so fucking good. Dark hair pushed back from his forehead, throat bobbing each time he sipped from his drink, long fingers clutching his glass of whiskey, smug smirk on display as he caught you staring at him again. 

Clearing your throat, you, at last, shifted your gaze from the man, instead excusing yourself from your clueless boyfriend’s company to escape to the bathroom. 

Fuck, what was wrong with you? You were with someone else, supposed to have completely moved on. Why was Taehyung all you could think of? 

Cupping cold water in your hands, you let the liquid cool down your heated cheeks, exhaling a breath as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t help but feel disgusted. Who were you to be fantasizing about another romp in the sack with your ex?

Clutching the door handle, you twisted it open, fully unprepared for the man in question standing on the other side of the wood. Looking like absolute sex on legs.

“You alright in here?” He smirked at your gaped mouth, taking joy in your shock and obvious nerves at being face to face, finally alone together after months of not having the opportunity. Taking a shaky breath, you opened your mouth to weakly protest, breath getting caught in your throat as his hand made contact with your waist. It felt so right. But this was so wrong. 

All resolve went out the window when the man’s lengthy appendages settled over your navel, leaning you back against the sink counter and making you shiver as he leaned down to spill hot breath over the shell of your ear. No. This was bad.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He murmured, giving you an out you were suddenly desperate to decline with the hovering of his palm over the soft fabric of your dress, unmoving until you answered him. 

Instead of using words, you simply let your actions do the talking, locking your fingers over his hand and shakily guiding it down between your thighs. 

Taehyung was quick to tuck his fingers underneath your dress, whipping your panties to the side to spread your embarrassingly slick folds, rubbing his finger over your clit to coax more fluid out from your entrance as he finally pressed his lips to yours. 

Warm plush lips made contact with your own, somehow immediately healing the skin that had been bitten raw by your nerves earlier, soothing over the skin with a needy edge that had your head spinning along with the pressure on your swollen bud.

You drew in a sharp breath as he pinched his fingers around either side of your clit, Taehyung deepening the kiss without warning as he pressed his bulge into your thigh. His tongue was hot and tasted of whiskey, making you moan louder as you desperately clutched onto his shoulder, gasping as his middle finger curled into your lubed-up entrance. 

“Baby,” he breathed, “what do you want?” He rasped, dark eyes imploring your own for answers as you whimpered at a particularly hard thrust from his fingers. 

“W-want you. Want you, Tae.” You moaned, the man pausing his actions for a moment to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“What about him?” 

A bit defeated, he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question, ignoring the syncopated pulses between both your sets of legs to let what’s been on his mind for months out into the air. 

“N-no. You.” You affirmed, the man studying you for a second before smashing your lips together once again, his belt clinking to the ground as he released his pants from where they strained against his growing crotch. 

“Want you too. I’ll make you forget all about him.” He panted against your bottom lip, spinning you around to bend you over the counter, the sound of him taking himself into his hand making you lose your breath all over again at the sheer sin of it all. 

It wasn’t long before the bathroom was full of the sounds of skin slapping skin, each of his long strokes punctuating Taehyung’s dirty words mumbled into your ear, a few in particular making you clench harder around his cock. 

“You belong to me.”

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.16

No One

02/04/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,025

Warnings: angst, jealousy, crying, infertility, talk of pregnancy, trouble conceiving, smut, LOTS of fluff

A/N: I’m sorry this one took me a bit to get out. I know y’all tell me not to be sorry but I am still sorry lol I stopped taking my endo meds since I can no longer afford them with no healthcare, I got my period and my endo said FUCK YOU! I was in bed for the entirety of my period with no energy to do anything but lay there and do nothing. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’ve been excited to get to this chapter and I hope it’s worth the wait. Thank you for any comments or reblogs! xoxo

Thor has never been so eager to get back to New Asgard. Even back in the beginning when Jane had been living with him in those first small houses that they’d built when his new Kingdom was nothing but a distant dream.

Even then, this sensation of yearning had not been so strong.

Every moment away from you has been unbearable. The detour he’d taken after just arriving only increased his desire because if seeing Jane has shown him anything it’s that he has indeed made the right choice.

He really hadn’t doubted it, but it’s nice to know that even with Jane standing inches away from him, his heart had not pounded. His breath had not caught. His fingers had not tingled as they once had in their wish to touch.

Her brown eyes, once beyond beautiful, are indeed still pretty. However, they aren’t yours. Yours that look at him with an innocent admiration. Love pours from them so freely. Eagerly.

You’re not afraid to show him how you feel and it takes his breath away how much you’ve given into loving him.

All he can do is try to return your love with the same fervor. So far he thinks he has been doing the job well.

As he struts forward towards your shared bedroom, he reaches into his cloak, down along his left hip to unhook a small leather satchel bulging with its contents.

Smiling down at what he hopes will be a welcome and pleasing gesture, he makes to open the doors to the room but finds them thrust out towards him.

Instinctively his hand twitches around the satchel, almost throwing his palm out to call his remade hammer, but he resists.

From his bedroom spill two beings. One Asgardian, one human. The doors swing shut behind them.

“Doctor Wilson? Alric?” Thor teeters back onto his right foot, completely surprised to see them. “What brings-?”

Both of them look grave and Thor’s heart hits the pit of his stomach. All of the strength in the universe leaves him in one terrifying instant.

“Is Y/N alright? Is she hurt? Injured? Has something happened?”

In his panic he begins to push through them and they move aside for him but before he can open the doors to get in to see you, Alric reaches out to place his hand on Thor’s shoulder.

“Just our monthly visit, nothing to fret about Your Majesty,” Alric assures him and yet, Thor’s squirming nerves are not put at ease. “Unfortunately things do not look well for an heir as of now.”

“They don’t exactly look bad either, Alric,” Doctor Wilson interjects. “We’re in uncharted territory, Your Majesty. We have to play this as it comes at us. I’m sure with Alric’s help we’ll find a way to make it work.”

Their words at the moment aren’t making any sense to Thor. All he wants is to see you.

“Right…” he says on reflex, but his voice is weak.

His mind on you and only you.

“She is a little melancholy after our news so, perhaps it’s best we let you go see her. Until next month, Your Majesty,” Doctor Wilson gives him a curtsy. “If you need us before then, you have our numbers.”

Alric gives Thor a bow and the two of them march off, Alric lugging a strange metal case along with him.

With nothing to hold him back now, Thor pulls the doors open and hurries inside.

He scans the room from the left to the right, expecting you in the bathroom but you aren’t there. Several of the doors to the balcony are open letting in a much warmer breeze than this morning but still very cool.

Thor finally spots you sitting at your vanity, your hand pressed to the inside of your elbow as you hold a small cotton ball against the point at which one of your doctors probably drew some blood.

Even that tiny sting of a needle piercing your beautiful skin makes his heart ache. Any pain you feel is his own and he can’t believe he forgot what today was.

“Cherub?”

You don’t look at him and instead keep your hand pressed tightly, fingers moving in slow and small circles.

He can’t see your face from here. You’re turned away, sitting with your gaze trained on the balcony doors closest to your vanity.

Thor can’t take you not looking at him. He sets his satchel on the chaise at the end of the bed and when he reaches your left side, he squats down so that he can look up at you, his right hand taking gentle hold under your left bicep. His left hand he places over your right one, pressed against the inside of your left elbow.

“I’m sorry about today. I forgot they were coming for your tests,” Thor confesses, feeling so guilty he could leap from the balcony and welcome the pain of any bones he might break.

The silence is heavy and he thinks he might really be in for it and opens his mouth to plead for your forgiveness when you give him relief, “So did I.”

He breathes in deeply and with a wave of relief releases his worries in a gust of air.

“Alric said that things did not look good. You’re not with child?”

Even though he knows, he still needs to hear you say it. He wants to know what you’re thinking to make whatever is making your face look so sad go away.

He takes his right hand and runs it along your lower back instead, rubbing in what he hopes is a soothing way.

Finally, you turn your head towards your vanity and he can see more of your heartbreaking expression. He hasn’t seen that loss of hope in your beautiful face since the night you begged him not to make a fool of you just before dinner on a night that feels a lifetime away.

“No, it-it wasn’t a no. The test was inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive? So, what does that mean? Does that mean they don’t know?” Thor asks, confusion twisting his handsome face.

“No, it just means that the test didn’t come back in any way that they could read it. We’re not exactly the same species even if we are compatible physically, we don’t know if we can even get pregnant. They took more of my blood and are going to do the test with more reliable equipment.

“They’ll call when they know something,” you sigh heavily, leaning back against your seat and trapping his hand between it and your body.

Thor tries to think of what he can say to make you feel better. What can he do?

And then what he has to say doesn’t matter as you turn to meet his gaze with your own full of betrayal and suspicion.

When your mouth parts, your words freeze him and his brain short circuits.

“I saw you with Jane earlier on the tower, Thor. I’m sorry but I-I thought you were going to come find me as soon as you got back, not your ex.”

You take a deep breath and Thor watches as your nerves spill forward, your lips trembling as you slowly exhale and all of your fears shine out through the depths of your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you crying, cherub?” Thor gushes, pulling his hand from your back to turn your seat to face him.

He cups both sides of your face, his large thumbs wiping away at the tears that spring forward.

It had seriously messed with you to see him and Jane so happy and close earlier. And then the tests and Doctor Alric and Doctor Wilson had no idea what was wrong with them so that was stressing you out.

All of your jealousy and frustration pours out of you suddenly. So fast and so unrelenting that with just this small bit of affection from Thor makes you shut your eyes tight as you sob two-three times.

“Y/N...no, my love, please. Don’t cry,” Thor begs, his own throat tight as he pulls you towards him.

You let him hold you because as insecure as you feel, as upset as this morning has made you, his love still feels real. The softness in his voice doesn’t sound fake and as much as he is the source of one of the aches in your chest, he’s your comfort now too.

How fucked up is that?!

He caresses the back of your head as you bury it against his shoulder, slumped down a little because of how low he is in his squat.

His other arm is wrapped all the way around you, firm. Possessive and eager to make you feel better. Can you trust this display?

Until this morning you had no reason to doubt it.

“We will have our baby soon, I know it. I can feel it. I’m not only the God of Thunder, you know? Trust me, cherub. I know these things. We’ll have our little one before you know it.”

He sounds so confident, so sure. He’s lost that tightness in his throat a little and he pushes you back so that he can look into your eyes, quickly wiping away at the saltwater stains on your cheeks.

“As for your former worry, I went to the tower because the lights were on. I wasn’t sure who was there so I simply went to check. I wasn’t expecting Jane out of all the people it could have possibly been.

“I’d hoped it was you, finally making use of the tower for your own office to write or perhaps your own personal library?” Thor’s instincts on what you might want a private space to be.

You suddenly feel foolish for doubting him for even a second. It makes you cry again, and you bury your face in your hands.

“No, my love, please don’t cry anymore,” he continues to beg. “Look, I’ve brought you a gift.”

He gets up suddenly and moves towards the package he’d been carrying when he came in. It wasn’t large. About the size of a shoebox.

“I thought of you when I was passing over Paris on my way home. You can eat them all at once or slowly, whichever you prefer,” He flips open the leather satchel and from inside pulls a thick and shiny rust colored box with a satin brown ribbon that delicately holds it closed.

It looks expensive and he doesn’t wait for you to take it since you’re too busy wiping at your cheeks and sniffling to grab it. He pushes the ribbon off of the box then removes the lid and places it underneath while tossing the ribbon onto your vanity.

“I’m not sure what each of them is, but you don’t have to eat the ones you don’t like. I’ll eat them for you,” he pushes fancy gold tissue paper aside to expose the contents within.

Inside the box is a tray of twenty-four chocolate pieces. Some of them have designs painted on them with what is more likely more chocolate in bright colors and patterns. Other pieces look to be decorated in plain chocolate with small embossed hearts, triangles, or teeny tiny bows.

The box is too thick for this to be all there is, so you’re pretty sure there are two trays of chocolates.

“Do you like them?” Thor checks, his voice light and rising at the end gently almost as if he’s talking to a small child which maybe should offend you?

But it doesn’t because you know that’s not what he means by the tone he’s using. He’s being as gentle with you as he can in your moment of sad anxiety and you love him so much for it.

“They’re so pretty…” you hiccup, wishing you weren’t so emotional and crying all over his lovely gift.

“That’s not all,” he tells you, putting the chocolates on your vanity to free up his hands to reach into his satchel again.

You quickly cover the chocolates, pushing the ribbon around the sleek container before they can be ruined.

Thor tosses the satchel onto the chaise with a flick of his wrist but draws your attention to him when he places another box on your lap. This one is much smaller, but wide and square.

“Happy two months of marriage, cherub,” Thor says softly, then carefully lifts the lid of his second gift.

Nestled within lush purple velvet is a beautiful platinum chain, thin, short so that the gorgeous lotus flower with your birthstone gem settled at its very center will sit just below your collarbone.

“It’s so beautiful, Thor.”

All of a sudden you’re crying again.

Thor smiles and rises again, taking the necklace from inside the box which he tosses onto the chaise too before moving around behind you to slip the necklace around your neck.

You reach up to place your fingers on the pretty flower, sniffling and trying not to make your crying too vocal but a sob or two slips out.

Thor moves back around you and takes a long look at your mess of a face before he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, “Come here, love.”

He waits for you to stand then takes your spot on your seat but then leads you down onto his lap.

Reaching up with his hand, he gives the back of your neck a squeeze while his other hand finds a resting spot on your thigh.

“Is it Jane still upsetting you?” he guesses.

You nod, unwilling to say it aloud.

“Why? What exactly is it that’s troubling you?”

He genuinely doesn’t seem to understand. While he might understand your nerves about her, the reason you���re still crying is lost on him.

You don’t want to say, but Thor bounces you a little in his lap, taking his hand to caress the side of your face and hold your gaze.

“Nothing you can say will make me love you any less.” A promise.

“When I saw you two this morning, you just looked so h-happy,” your lip quivers. “You looked happy. Pleased. You were smiling that one smile that’s only supposed to be mine.”

For some reason Thor’s chest puffs up a little, a proud fix to his chin as he reaches up to grab yours and give your head a little shake.

“It is all yours, cherub. I am completely yours. I was so happy when I was with Jane this morning because I felt nothing of what I’d once felt for her. I had no stuttering in my heart, no butterflies in my belly. I wasn’t taken by her eyes or tempted by her lips.”

“Alright, I get the picture,” you grumble, hating everything he’s describing even though you know he’s telling you that he wasn’t feeling any of it.

He chuckles, bringing his hand down to rest on your hip.

“I was happy because Jane is no longer the source of all of that for me. You are. All meeting her so unexpectedly proved is that I am more in love with you than I ever thought I could be. You were my arranged match. The most I had ever expected was friendship. And when that turned into more, I wondered if it could really be more than what I ever felt for Jane and it is.

“Jane was always a dear love but you are family. It’s only been a short time since we married but you are more my love than Jane ever was. You’re my cherub!”

He doesn’t wait for you to recover from his little speech. He hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss.

It quickly changes and shifts and the lonely night you’d spent tense and worried, missing him, explodes you onto him. You’re both a frenzy of movement, Thor ripping away at his armor until he’s in the plain dark undershirt and a very small pair of black briefs.

You’re about to push him onto your bed when he suddenly grabs you and tosses you around his massive body and onto the bed to bounce as you land with a gasp.

He shoves his briefs down, still kicking them away as he steps towards you and gathers the long skirts of your dress higher and higher around your hips.

“Thor…” you whisper, a gasp of anticipation which drives him a little wild as he yanks you closer to the edge of the bed and thrusts into you with a shaky groan.

He goes still for a moment, hooking his hands around your thighs more securely. He bottoms out, sheathing his cock within you until you reach down to scratch at the bottom of his shirt then his hands as you fall back against the bed.

“Please,” you plead and he quickly obliges.

He pumps into you, filling you to the brim with no intention of ever stopping.

~~~~~~~~~~

You and Thor eventually come out of your room. You dressed in your carefully chosen dress and Thor a little less regal in a pair of crisp dark jeans, and layered up in a green sweater over a blue button up collar shirt over a plain white t-shirt.

Honestly though, even in his slightly more casual ensemble, Thor screams royalty. He’s so beautiful.

Both of you giggling like giddy kids, he pulls you closer and loops your arm through his.

It makes you happy that he likes you close by. He proves it now as he leans down to whisper so that only you can hear him as the palace staff moves about cleaning and fixing up the rooms that have been used throughout the day.

“I’m a little glad you’ve decided not to use the tower for a workspace.” Thor confesses.

“How come?” you wonder, turning your face to look at him, genuinely curious as to the change of mind. He’d been so insistent before about you having your own personal space to work in peace where no one could bother you and you didn’t have to give up writing your stories even if you were now Queen of New Asgard.

“I don’t know if I could stand having you that far away from me. Our night apart has only driven that home for me. I want you always at my side.”

His sentiment is sweet and you stop to turn and face him, reaching up to place your hands on his bearded cheeks to smoosh them because he’s so damn adorable. He’s massive so you have to push yourself up, lifting your heels a little to do so comfortably.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly lovable that makes you?” you ask.

He smiles despite you morphing his face, beaming down at you with a look that must mean he loves you. Everything he says has to be true. The more you think about it, the more you realize that your jealousy, while founded, doesn’t make any sense now that you’re married.

Not after everything the two of you have shared and been through. Not after all the time you’ve spent building this foundation with him. 

“Quite a lot more than I was before?” he guesses. “Only, maybe not when I go to the bathroom?”

Through your smile you tilt your head to the side a little, confused by his amendment to his desires.

“Why?” What difference does it make?

He drops his voice to a whisper and leans down a little closer to you, “Sometimes I have smelly poops.”

You’re not expecting that and throw your head back as a loud unfiltered laugh rips through you. The movement pulls you down flat onto your feet but Thor catches you with one arm around your waist to pull you back up onto your toes and against his hard body.

He’s laughing too as he dips down and kisses your laughing mouth, silencing you a little so that it’s only air slipping through your lips as you kiss him back.

It’s just a long held peck. He’s relishing in the feel of your lips against his as your body shakes with more laughter.

Still laughing with you, Thor pulls back and gripes, “Stop laughing and kiss me!”

You drop your head against his chest as you keep laughing, unable to help it because the cuteness of him being self-conscious about his smelly poops is too much for you to handle.

Especially considering that you’ve both already been in the bathroom together when the other is using the toilet.

He loosens his arm around your waist so that you fall down a little further but keeps his hand resting on the small of your back while the other hand he places on the back of your head, caressing it as you chuckle weakly from laughing so much.

The sound of a clearing throat brings both your heads turning to the end of the hallway.

Your visiting trio stand there, Tony smirking, Bruce smiling shyly, Jane averts her eyes.

“Uh, get a room?” Tony suggests, but you can tell from his tone that he’s only teasing.

“Where do you think we’ve been all morning?” Thor grins, readjusting with you to hook your arm on his elbow before leading you towards your guests.

“So that’s what those screams were,” Tony counters.

Thor wiggles his eyebrows at them but your neck burns and your mouth pops open in surprise and embarrassment.

You start to fret, hands fluttering up towards your new necklace as you look from Tony to Jane, who’s looking at her shoes, to Bruce who is smiling with his own laughter in his eyes.

“Was I-? I didn’t mean to-! Thor, I didn’t know that I was being-” your panic is real and your heart is thrumming a million miles an hour.

“He’s teasing you, cherub, don’t worry,” Thor assures you, dropping your arm from his elbow to wrap his own arm around your waist to pull you into his side again.

You turn to Tony and he’s laughing a little. Not maliciously, just purely entertained by your reaction.

“I-a joke?” you ask him, still uncertain.

“Sorry,” Tony says, nodding. “Just a joke.”

You swallow hard, trying to settle your heartbeat.

Thor kisses your head and like a switch is flipped, all of them shift into work mode.

“Have you started installing the security system?” Thor asks Tony and all together the five of you move down into the lowest level of the palace which actually happens to be a dungeon?

You’re not really listening to their conversation as you move with them, still flustered about you possibly letting all of your sex noises reverberate through the halls of the palace for everyone to hear, but when you reach a large vault-like door, you start to focus again.

As the heavy door slides open like part of some futuristic spaceship, you’re thrown into a large room about the size of the throne room where you’d had your wedding reception only it looks nothing like the rest of the palace.

This place looks more like the Avengers compound. High-tech stations line the walls, large monitors with readings you don’t understand and camera footage from places you recognize from around New Asgard and the palace itself.

There’s a full crew working all of the stations, Asgardians and humans, all of them wearing the same charcoal gray uniforms, splashes of gold and red like Thor’s cape on their shoulders and chests.

As you and Thor enter, they stop what they’re doing to stand at attention, bowing to both of you as Thor leads you to the center of the room where a large stone table is set with schematics of plans that you don’t understand.

Tony moves over to them and starts to sift through the many scrolls all laid out for viewing while Thor nods to the crew.

“At ease, my friends.”

He’s so nice. The crew fall back into their respective jobs.

One of them moves towards a large screen against the wall, a TV you realize, playing different news footage from all over the world.

He flips to another channel and you pull away from Thor to walk and stand beside the crewman who stands taller once you’re beside him.

He turns to you and gives you a quick bow, “Your Majesty.”

Turning to him, you smile and then look back at the screen, “To monitor any weird things happening around Earth?”

“Yes, m’am,” he asserts then flips the channel again.

This time it’s a documentary style report, you see a familiar scene. New York in shambles as Iron Man, Hawkeye, Black Widow, the Hulk, Captain America, and your Thor fight off the invading Chitauri.

Slowly another body settles beside you, its warmth drawing your attention to it.

“I still remember that day, sort of,” Bruce says gently, his voice always so easy and calm.

It’s hard to believe he can turn into the giant Hulk in seconds.

“Was it scary?”

“Sort of. I think for me, I was just worried that Hulk would hurt someone other than the aliens. But by then I think he understood what side we were on.” Bruce nods.

“But, aren’t you the Hulk?” His words confuse you a little.

“Well, yeah, but also no. He’s like another half of me? If that makes sense? I haven’t worked out how to combine both sides yet. I’m there, I’m just...it’s like someone takes who you are and reduces you to your most basic instincts.

“We’re almost like two different people but we’re also the same person. I’m working on understanding our connection better. Underneath the Hulk, I’m still me. I’m still there I think. I’m just trapped for some reason.”

The two of you watch the screen in silence for a moment then Thor shows up, blasting the Chitauri with his lightning. He looks a little different because he has both eyes and his hair!

“Thor had long hair,” you realize, gushing a little.

“Did I look better with long hair?” his deep voice slips into your right ear and you jump not having been expecting it.

“Not better,” you promise him, smiling at him before turning your eyes back on the TV. “Just different. It suits you.”

“Should I grow it back?”

With excitement, you turn to face him and he chuckles at whatever look you have in your eyes, “Would you? Wouldn’t it bother you?”

“If it will make you look at me the way you’ve been staring at me on that television, I will go out and buy a wig.”

You laugh and Thor leans down to give you a quick peck.

“It’s that time of year I guess,” Tony says, sliding over to stand on Bruce’s other side where Jane is already standing having moved over at some point.

She still hasn’t said anything.

“What time of year?” You wonder.

“Oh, in Spring they always start to play footage on some of the news channels about Loki’s party days in New York. Some type of anniversary celebration or something? Only it’s more like a wake.”

“It’s a memorium,” you realize, then look at Thor who seems to sense your upset.

He wraps his arm around you and settles in beside you, kissing the top of your head again.

“Where is Loki?” you ask him, frowning with worry and wondering if it must upset him to have one of his biggest mistakes thrown in his face for weeks.

“He’s tending to business with the guard. He’ll come find us when he’s finished,” Thor promises.

After a tense moment, Tony claps his hands and then pats Bruce’s shoulder, “Shall we? Pepper wants me home by Friday so that we can explore the wonderful art of tantric massage.”

As Bruce turns to follow Tony back to the center table where a new console computer has come from a panel at the center you hadn’t noticed, he gives him a skeptical look.

“Pepper? Are you sure it isn’t you pushing the tantric massage?” Bruce sounds like he already knows the answer.

Tony shrugs, “I’m not the bossy anymore.”

You look back at the TV, your worry only spiking at the thought of Loki coming down here and finding all of you watching.

“Change it to something else,” you tell the crewman. “Make sure no one puts it on that channel again.”

“Yes, m’am,” he bows his head in obedience and quickly changes the channel while moving to a small box hooked up to it where a small screen comes out and he quickly goes about pressing buttons hopefully blocking any and all sources of that footage so that Loki doesn’t accidentally have his face shoved into his past.

“Don’t worry, my cherub. Loki is well aware of what the Earth grieves at this time of year. He won’t be blindsided by it.”

“I still don’t like it,” you insist, unable to shake the frown from your face.

“Thor?” Jane’s voice interrupts you both softly.

He looks at her and you give her a glance before turning to look at the news reports on the TV.

“I’m gonna need one of these mainframes for the telescope. Which one can I take?”

“Right,” Thor nods, “Of course. Let’s find you a place to work.”

Before he leaves you he leans in and kisses the side of your head again, squeezing your hip before he moves with Jane away towards the many workstations in the very large room.

After getting everything sorted out this morning, your heart doesn’t even sway towards jealousy and even though you’re worried about Loki, you breathe a sigh of relief that your realization about Thor’s loyalty has really engrained itself into you.

He loves you and nothing will change that. Even as they laugh somewhere behind you, your confidence doesn’t waver.

You reach up and touch the lotus on your necklace, a shining reminder of Thor missing you on his very first night away from you since your wedding.

You’re sure now that no one will ever come between you and Thor.

No one.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {Epilogue}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, 

Words: 2.2k

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

NOTE: DO NOT COME FOR ME. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤️❤️

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

If the public ripped Chris a new asshole when the odds seemed ever not in his favor, they massacred Ana once the facts were revealed. When it came out just how low Ana had gone in her efforts to get your husband, the world turned into a colder place. The tabloids ran endless pieces on what a horrible person she was. They were relentless when it came to nitpicking not just her behavior and actions, but they even went in on her acting. You could have said you felt bad for her, but you didn’t. Not one bit.

 The support that came out for you and Chris was heartwarming. Everyone seemed to want to wrap the two of you in a cocoon of support and love. You received well-wishes from fans and supporters, and even celebs sent floral arrangements, all expressing their support for you. The narrative that was spun was the diabolical plot of Ana and jilted ex Christiano who concocted a plot that was to end with Ana getting Chris and Christiano kidnapping you. Most of the details were released to the press, though you and Chris had both tried to keep as much of it under wraps as possible. Neither one of you wanted to continue dealing with it. You just wanted to move forward and focus on better things—happier things.

 Because Christiano had broken into your home and attempted to cause harm to its residents, Chris’s actions were seen as self-defense, and Chrisnao’s death ruled an accidental result of self-defense. Though the White family were distraught once they were faced with the severity of Christiano’s actions and continued plans, they didn’t have the heart to put you through any further trauma. You’d suspected it was Christina’s doing, and a floral arrangement from her a few weeks after the incident proved your suspicions.

 You’d been friends with her first, and it was a friendship that survived the end of your relationship with Christiano. This was her way of letting it be known that her brother did wrong. A month after the incident, her statement shed light on Christiano’s mental health and revealed he’d been struggling for several years since the break-up. She made no apologies for his actions and didn’t try to make him seem like a victim. She was adamant about letting the full truth be seen. She did offer an apology to you, Chris, your families, and your children.

 For her part in the plot, her actions of physically trying to kill you, not knowing you pregnant at the time, was what sealed Ana’s fate. She was sentenced to jail, and it wasn’t entirely the sentence of a privileged woman. It was one of a criminal who showed no remorse for their actions. She was given nine years behind bars, and because she was living and working in the US on a visa rather than citizenship, after the completion of her sentence, she would be deported to Spain. 

Even film studios were distancing themselves from her at record speed. All the roles she had been considered for quickly changed their views and voiced wanting you to have the roles. It was sort of poetic to you. She hated you because you were black, and you didn’t deserve all you had, including your career and husband. In the end, she was the absolute furthest from your husband, and now everything that was hers would be yours.

 You and Chris were on a flight to Massachusetts two days after the incident. Neither of you were suspects; there was no reason for you to remain in LA, so you quietly packed up what you wanted and made arrangements to pack up the house for the foreseeable future, then went where both of you felt like you belonged. You left any details about your career plans to your manager to close. Everyone seemed to understand the want you had to step back from work and Hollywood, especially when the news was out that you were going to be parents.

 That was the only thing Chris seemed to care about. He was on a mission to keep you comfortable, happy, and taken care of. From the minute he carried you over the threshold of the home he’d built for you, it felt like a fresh start, a new beginning meant just for the five of you.

 He was there beside you every morning, patting your back as you vomited because of your morning sickness until you were four and a half months along. He was there for every single appointment. He read every book you did to prepare for the remainder of your pregnancy and life with twins. He was there preparing you lunch every afternoon, there massaging your feet and back at the end of every night. He was there to lather on the cocoa and shea butter to your growing belly. He was there to compliment every stretch mark you received because of your quickly stretching skin. He was there to kiss each of them while telling you how much he loved each and every tiger stripe, as he called them. He was even there for you when none of your clothes fit you, and he offered you all his cable-knit sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, and button-downs.

 When your belly became so big you couldn’t see your feet; he put your shoes on for you. When you couldn’t get up without looking like a beached whale, Chris was there to carry you wherever you wanted to go. There rarely went an hour that went by where he didn’t strip you to worship your body as if you were his scripture, and he worshiped you and you alone. Not a day passed where you didn’t feel loved, desired, and protected.

 Through it all, you decided that therapy was beneficial and a powerful enough tool to bring you back together that you wanted to continue. Dr. Danquah was thrilled having the two of you as clients again and, because of your progress, saw no need for you to see her more than twice a month to keep the lines of communication and the roots of love and passion ever strong. The love you felt for Chris and the connection you felt to each other only deepened throughout your pregnancy.

 Just when you thought you couldn’t love him anymore, he did something to prove you wrong. Every day you found something more to love. If it wasn’t his fun-loving nature that was on display every time he played with Dodger, it was his outdoorsy adventurism with the way he bounded from the bed once the sun rose to drag you on another of his nature walks so he could photograph the trees or the hills. If it wasn’t his romantic side with how he prepared candlelit baths every night that posed as a prequel to dinner by candlelight and the most passionate session of lovemaking, it was his undercover, not so undercover freak antics with him wanting to christen every single room in the house and a few spots outdoors with your lovemaking. At nights when he thought you were sleeping, you heard him talking to the babies as he caressed your stomach. That was what you loved most. His sheer love, devotion, and adoration for his children and the strong protector that resided in him. he was the only one for you.

 “Push Riah.”

 “Don’t fucking tell me to push. You push!”

 Chris snorted, and you wanted to kill him. His hands rubbed your belly before he kissed your jaw from his position behind you in the tub in your bathroom.

 “I can push with you, but you have the babies in you. You have to show them the way.”

 You groaned, and it echoed in the hallowed bathroom.

 “You can do this, Uriah,” Lisa encouraged, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze.

 You looked across to your mother, who nodded, hoping to steel your nerve. Chris kissed your ear.

“Come on, dragonfly. You got this. Bring our babies into the world so we can spoil them.”

 And you can change all the poop diapers?”

 Chris snorted again. “I don’t recall making any such promise.”

 You squeezed his hand with everything you had. He groaned and hissed from the pain.

 “Ah, ah, wow. Okay, I see my error. Yes, all poop diapers that you don’t want.” You released his hand, letting him relax somewhat.

 “Use that, baby. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry.”

 “This is your fault,” you pointedly accused.

 “Yes. My fault. I take full blame. I’m sorry.”

 “You owe me so big for this, Evans.”

 He nodded, agreeing with you. that was when the pain intensified at levels that made you regret choosing a natural birth at home.

 “Oh fuckity, fuck. So big, Evans!”

 “You’re crowning. Do you want to come over here and catch your baby, dad?”

 Chris moved from behind you and got into position between your legs. His eyes widened, clearly seeing the baby’s head. The excitement around you was palpable, and it gave you a burst of energy to get the baby out. You grabbed your knees, hunkered down, and pushed because whether you were supposed to or not. Your scream was loud, and the screams of those around you picked up. They shouted to you, encouraging you to keep going and not to stop. The look on Chris's face suddenly changed, and you saw the tears in his eyes.

 “Oh my god, Riah, I can—I can see—oh baby, I can see a face. come on, Dragonfly, one more push.”

 You screeched out and fought through the intense burning you felt, and in seconds the crying of a baby echoed in the bathroom.

 “Aah, oh my god, Riah, it’s a girl. She’s here,” Chris elated as tears rolled down his cheeks.

 You smiled widely as Chris held your daughter and cut her umbilical cord before he placed her on your chest.

 “Oh my god!”

 She was perfect, with a full head of hair that was the color of Chris’s and cheeks so plump you were tempted to pinch them. You only had a moment to place a kiss on her forehead before you felt another stab of pain that made you shout again. The second midwife took the baby from you so you could focus on pushing out her sister.

 “She’s right there, Uriah. You’re doing incredible, baby,” your mother informed.

 “I’m thinking three good pushes, Uriah.  When you feel the urge, push.

 You instantly felt the urge to push and returned to your previous position and pushed as hard as you could. This push was just as painful as the first one, but you felt this push accomplished more.

 “Good push, her head is out. One more, and she’ll be out,” your first midwife said.

 The look on everyone's face was one of anxiety and excitement. The sounds of your first daughter’s cries had died down, and the only thing that could be heard in the room was your panting, screeching, and grunting.

 “Fuuuuuck!”

 You managed to push your daughter out, and her cries filled the bathroom. Soon, it was not one baby crying but both of them.

 “You did it!”

 Lisa and your mother both kissed your cheeks and forehead, happily congratulating you and telling you how well you’d done while the midwives cleaned the babies to bring them to you. When Chris came up beside you, your mothers backed away, giving you a few moments together. Chris kissed your forehead.

 “You’re incredible. You did so good, dragonfly. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you once, then twice, and nuzzled his nose against yours.

 “I love you so much.”

 “Did someone order two perfect babies?”

 The midwives placed your daughters in your arms.

 “This is baby A; she was born first and her sister.”

 Your tears flowed freely as so much emotion filled you. Love in it’s purest form washed over you.

 “Chris. They’re beautiful.”

 “Of course they are. They look just like you,” Chris said, kissing your temple.

 A comfortable silence fell between you as you admired your newborn daughters.

 “Any decision on names?”

 You smiled and ran your thumb across the baby’s brow in your arm.

 “Yeah. How do you feel about Nova and Rae?”

 Chris’s face lit up as his smile spread so wide that you wondered if his face would split in two.

 “I love them. Nova and Rae Evans,” he uttered. You nodded and couldn’t help but choke up, seeing the emotion on his face.

 “Chasing dragonflies,” he whispered the meanings of the names you’d discussed weeks ago before his lips met yours for a tender kiss.

 With his forehead pressed to yours, he whispered again. “Rumor has it you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

 You smiled and looked at him before pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss. “Rumor has it you’re a DILF.”

 Chris laughed so loud it startled your babies, making them stir and cry. You joined in laughing with him, unable to keep your sublime happiness under wraps any longer.

 “Rumor has it you two will have siblings in record time,” Lisa said slightly above a whisper.

 Everyone in the room laughed, not knowing how true those were most likely were. You and Chris gazed at each other with longing and love in your eyes. When Chris kissed you again, this time taking his time to do it properly, completely and heartily, you knew his mother’s words would be the truest spoken.  

                                             The End!!!!!

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

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[dropssofjupitter]

The American

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Platonic] , George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader [Semi-slowburn]

Summary: A new transfer student is welcomed to Hogwarts during the politically tense times that have befallen the wizarding kingdom. And despite their better judgement and the new (and frankly horrifying) DADA teacher, the twins can’t seem to get her out of their mind

Word Count: 2.5 k 

Warnings: Umbridge (I feel like that’s enough said for that one), anxiety mentions, swearing (light. maybe one f-bomb), Ron being a lil prejudiced against Slytherins

Next >>

A/N: I took a small liberty with the last name just to help the story flow better, so I’m sorry if that’s upsetting. I am also apologizing ahead of time if I wrote the twins ooc, it’s my first time writing a fic for them! [Not beta read, any mistakes are mine and mine alone]

You took a breath, hands smoothing down the sides of your skirt, twisting nervously in the folds. You could do this. Nerves ran throughout your body, making it feel like it was humming with energy as you shifted on your feet. You could do this. The professor next you, McGonagall if you remembered correctly, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You forced a small smile, turning your face back to the set of great wooden doors in front of you. You could barely hear a thing that was being said, you just knew that you would be introduced after the new teacher and then sorted into your house.

“In other news,” a voice raised from behind the doors and you looked up sharply. “We have a transfer student joining us this term. We have decided that it would be best for everyone if her sorting ceremony were as public as the first years, so please. Join me in welcoming Y/N Jones.”

The hand left your shoulder and you looked up, taking in another nervous breath as you watched McGonagall place her hand on one of the doors, nodding to you to motion that it was time before pushing the doors open. You forced your face to remain neutral, and straightened your back as you walked alone up to the Headmaster in the front of the room.

The sound of your shoes hitting the stone floor caused your anxiety to rise again, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to keep your head high and act like you knew you belonged here. You stopped in front of the stool placed at the top of the steps and turned, sitting down on it and effectively silencing the whispers that had been floating around the Great Hall.

The headmaster (god, what was his name again?) raised a dusty old witches hat and placed it on your head. The brim of the hat slipped over your eyes, and an older sounding voice resounded in your head, mulling over where to place you.

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

Fred and George had fully expected this year’s welcoming feast to go like all of the others. Cheer when the first years were sorted (booing when it was into Slytherin, of course), boo again when the new DADA teacher was announced, and then gorge themselves as they planned the perfect way to sneak puking pastilles into Draco Malfoys food (it never worked). However, they were both pleasantly and utterly surprised when Dumbledore announced a new transfer student. Hogwarts had never really had a transfer student, at least while they were there.

Fred turned to George and elbowed him slightly, a half smirk on his face. “Maybe we’ll have another gullible second year to talk into insulting Snape, eh George?”

George grinned as he swallowed a quick swig of pumpkin juice. “Maybe so Freddie.”

However, as the doors to the Great Hall opened and you walked through, all thoughts of pranking left the boys’ heads. You carried yourself like you were the only one meant to be here, and like the others were new students embarking on your domain, and it drew the boys’ full attention. They only remembered to pick up their jaws when you sat down on the stool to be sorted.

Ron, who had noticed their strange reaction, tried to get their attention through a poorly hushed whisper, but to no avail. The twins were too focused on what house you were going to be sorted into.

It felt almost foolish to hope that you would be a Gryffindor, but hope they did. They waited with baited breath as the Sorting Hat took its sweet, sweet time. After what felt like an eternity, the hat had finally reached it’s verdict.

“Slytherin!” The voice rang out through the Great Hall, and the Slytherins cheered as their flag was momentarily displayed on the walls of the Hall. The twins felt their heart sink as they kept their eyes on your form, watching you as you walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down in between the first years and older house members.

“Oi! Fred! George!” Ron exclaimed, exasperated as he gave up on catching his brothers attention. “Bloody hell! It’s like I don’t even exist!”

Next to him, Hermione giggled knowingly, shaking her head at Ron.

“Oh? Have you got something to say now?” Ron asked, turning his face towards Hermione.

She sighed and shook her head again. “You really are incredibly dense sometimes Ron.”

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

You had spent the remainder of the feast politely talking to your fellow house members, answering their questions and asking some of your own. It seemed that they were all either in awe due to your transfer, or in disbelief once they found out that you were American. Quite honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Yet your anxiety kept you from speaking about it, and instead had you hesitantly picking at the comfort food that had magically appeared on your plate once you had sat down. 

After the feast was done, you were escorted to your room and introduced to your roommates by a prefect whom had asked you multiple times (despite your constant assurances) if you needed a tour of the castle itself. You settled into your room quite easily, introducing yourself to the girls and exchanging pleasantries before unpacking your trunk and getting your belongings situated. One girl, Pansy you believed, seemed particularly kind to you, and you made a mental note to get to know her better. 

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep in your bed, wrapped in the comfortable blankets that had been provided and assuring yourself that tomorrow would yield only positives. 

~~~~~

The next day had indeed started out well. You woke up on time and were able to find your classes easily, and you were also praised by Professor Sprout for your extensive knowledge in Herbology. However, things took a small turn for the worst went you entered Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

The first thing you noticed was the teacher in the front of the room, watching with beady eyes as students casually found their way to desks and friends. Her monochrome outfit looked awful, having the likeness of a pattern you swore you saw on your grandmother’s couch once, and had given her a look that, quite plainly, reminded you of a toad. 

The second thing you noticed was the fact that the seats were filling up, and quickly. Scurrying towards the closest open seat, you ended up next to a girl with unruly hair and a red and yellow tie. She smiled kindly at you as you sat down, and you returned the action before returning your eyes to the front of the room. 

“Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations, more commonly known as O.W.L.S.” The teacher spoke, seeming to punctuate every word of her sentence with a pause as the blackboard behind her wrote what she had spoken.

“Study hard, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and the consequences may be, severe.” She smiled, a tight lipped sort of smile that let everyone know she was faking it. With a wave of her wand the stacks of books behind her began to float down the aisles, distributing themselves amongst the students.

“Your previous instruction on this subject has been, disturbingly, uneven.” You looked down as a book placed itself on your desk, pulling a face as you saw the cover and began to flip through it. 

“But you’ll be pleased to know that from now on you’ll be following a carefully constructed, Ministry approved course of defensive magic.” The girl next you did the same, and raised her hand. 

“Yes?” the professor called on her. 

“There’s nothing in here about using defensive spells?” she said, the confusion evident in her voice and mirroring the confusion on everyone else’s faces. 

“Using spells?” The professor laughed, walking closer towards your table. “Well I can’t imagine why you would need to use spells in my classroom!”

“We’re not gonna use magic?” a redhead boy piped up, turning the book over in his hands. 

“You’ll be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way,” the professor replied, her annoyingly ‘girly’ voice already seeming to get on your nerves. 

“Well what use is that?” A brunette boy who looked shockingly similar to Harry Potter asked. “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be ‘risk free’.” 

“Students will raise their hands when they speak in my class!” The professor said, her nerves evidently already frazzled as she raised her voice. The brunette boy sat back in his seat (No seriously. He could make money as a Harry look-alike) , obviously on edge as the professor took a moment to turn around and address the class again. 

“It is the view of the ministry, that a theoretical knowledge would be sufficient to get you through your examinations which after all, is what school is all about.” 

“And how are theories supposed to prepare us for what’s out there?” the brunette boy asked again, sharing a look with his table partner who had spoken up earlier. 

“There is nothing out there dear,” the professor replied, and at this, you couldn’t hold back a scoff. The professor whipped her head in your direction, and a few classmates turned to look at you. 

You looked up and swallowed thickly, your eyes meeting the professors. “I mean, I could be wrong, but wasn’t there a basilisk within the school a few years ago? That kind of seems like something ‘out there’.” 

The professor stuttered, and a few eyes widened around the classroom. “Ex-cuse me?” she said, taking a step towards your desk. 

“I’m just saying that there are certain undeniable dangers. Especially around this school, it seems.” You paused, hands fiddling with your robes under the table in a nervous habit that you hadn’t quite seemed to kick just yet. 

“Lying, Miss Jones, will get you nowhere.” The professor fired back, a tight-lipped smile plastered on her face. 

“She’s not lying,” the brunette fired back. “There are present dangers out in the world. Like, oh, I don’t know. Lord Voldemort.” 

The entire class went silent at his comment, some turning to glare at him with barely disguised hatred and others suddenly finding their desks and books to be the most interesting thing in the room. 

The professor, after taking a moment to recover of course, changed directions in order to walk towards the brunettes desk. “Now that, is a lie.” She replied in a dangerously low tone. 

“Oh, so I suppose that Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord then?” he replied in an accusatory manner. Gasps rose up from the class, disgust now evident in most of your classmates faces. 

“Cedric Diggory’s death was an unfortunate accident-” 

“No it wasn’t! Voldemort killed him! I watched it -” 

“That is enough Mr. Potter!” The professor yelled, losing her composure suddenly. The dead quiet settled over the class again as she smoothed down her skirt. “Potter, Jones, please see me for detention after classes today.” She said simply, before turning around and starting the days lesson as if the entire exchange had never occurred. 

You sat at your desk, absolutely dumbfounded. You had had no intention of speaking up in class, much less saying something apparently so controversial that it warranted a detention. Yet here you were, in your now decidedly least favorite class with your most recently least favorite teacher. How did you manage to get yourself into these situations?

The brunette next to you looked over with a small look of sympathy whilst your fellow Slytherins shared a not so subtle haughty laugh in the corner of the room. You sunk low in your seat, making up your mind indefinitely that speaking in class was completely off the table now. 

Thankfully, the class passed without any further altercations, and you nearly sighed with relief when it ended. You gathered up your items, shoving the new (and frankly quite stupid) DADA book into your bag and turning to make a beeline for the door. 

The brunette who had offered her sympathy earlier in the class spoke before you could leave the desk though. “Thank you for speaking up. For Harry I mean. Not a lot of people would do that, especially now.” 

You looked up, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” 

She returned your look. “Did you not hear?” 

“Hear about what?” The two of you had slowly made your way to Umbridge’s door, lest you incite her wrath twice in the same day. 

The brunette was about to answer when the redhead who had spoken earlier wrapped his arm over her shoulder in a protective matter. “Is this Slytherin bothering you Hermione?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you in what you assumed was his best glare (honestly it wasn’t very good). 

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a step back. “Excuse me?” 

“I said,” he stepped in front of Hermione and crossed his arms, “is this snake bothering you?”

“Oh honestly Ronald!” Hermione cried out from behind him, grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the classroom door. She threw an apologetic smile over her shoulder at you before turning back to Ron and smacking the back of his head. 

You stifled a laugh at the look on his face and shook your head as you headed the opposing way down the corridor, not entirely paying attention to your surroundings as you double checked your schedule for the third time that day. 

Moments later you were sprawled out on the corridor floor, having collided with two people who had apparently been running at breakneck speed. You groaned and picked yourself up to a sitting position, looking over at the other two boys currently thrown over one another. Great. More redheads. 

Despite your better judgement, you gently kicked one of them with your foot after picking yourself fully up off of the floor. “Hey, are you guys alright?” 

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

Fred and George were royally screwed. Fucked, if you will. 

They hadn’t planned to quite literally body slam you in the corridors whilst running away from Filch after setting off dung bombs in his office, it had just. . . happened. And quite unfortunately, at that. 

George rolled over and off of his brother as he felt your foot kick him, looking up at you with what he hoped to Merlin was a dashing smile as he suppressed whatever copious amounts of pain that he was feeling in that moment. “Barely, but I suppose we’ll manage. Right Freddie?” He asked, looking down at his brother who was still planted face first into the stone floor. 

“Speak for yourself oh brother dearest,” he sarcastically replied as he peeled himself from the stone. 

“Weasley’s!” Filch yelled from down the corridor, running full speed (or as well as he could) towards them, students wrinkling their noses in disgust and turning away as he passed them. 

“And that,” Fred said, offering George a hand up, “would be our cue to leave.” 

Both twins offered you crooked grins, George even going as far as saluting you, before they dashed off through the corridors, quite possibly traveling faster than they had when they’d ran into you.

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

You watched them, thoroughly amused despite being tackled, and bent down to pick up the paper schedule that had fallen from your hands. As you reached down, you noticed a larger and much thicker parchment next to yours. You grabbed both and looked closer at the thicker parchment, watching with amazement as what seemed to be a map of the school faded away into nothing. 

You looked back up at the boys just in time to see them turn a corner and disappear from sight. It appeared as though you’d have to return their tricky map to them another time. 

Smiling at the thought of interacting with the chaotic individuals again, you headed off towards Divination. 

.

.

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[savethelastdan]

Sesskagu

Mouths smell wine, The feast is going wild

Victorious and glorious, The men exalt their king

As in a fevered dream Kagura is entering

And she provokes him to do a special deed

"You have conquered the capital of orient

Display your power and make your enemies weep.

Destroy their pride, The jewel of the middle kingdom

As they once destroyed our temples for their king"

this ended up being a weird little AU so enjoy that I guess

-

The trees of this forest stretch high to cup the black sky within their branches. Though their crowning leaf-tops disappear into the dark night, each's base is aglow with clusters of lanterns. Around the light, demons of every breed laugh and shout in a ear-splitting din. Sesshomaru's bored sigh becomes lost in the clamor, as it has for the past three days of ancestral celebration.

A forgotten goblet rolls through the dirt to stop just at his foot; he sidesteps to avoid the blood-like wine spilling from its mouth, nearly shoulder-checking a cheerful demon from his mother's army who is attempting to start a group song in honor of Sesshomaru's great-great grandfather. With a grimace, the young warlord hurries past.

His mother, the only opportunity for a decent conversation, has disappeared into the crowd. No doubt to collect all manner of praises for raising such a son - he who has conquered the four lands with tooth and claw, who has met every challenge with nary a twinge of self-doubt. The Lady of the Sky Castle sees no purpose in modesty, nor in sharing the credit with her ex-husband; every compliment is polished and stashed in her robe for another day.

He is halfway through his slow circle around the party when he spots an anomaly. A guest he hasn't seen before.

She's slight, dark hair piled atop her head; lantern-light bounces off the green glass threaded through her ears to speckle the backs of nearby demons. From the breeze flicking at the edge of her sleeves, it's obvious she is a wind demon. But there is something else in her scent, carried to him beneath those of the crowd and the wine -bitterness, dark and sharp and wrong - that puts Sesshomaru on edge.

Him alone, apparently - no one around seems to pay her any mind, even as she turns to fix her eyes on him.

And smirks.

-

When he reaches her side, she inhales and holds something across her chest - a fan, folded tight. Sesshomaru ticks an eyebrow, and her lips stretch wide again.

"Don't worry, I didn't come to fight."

He doesn't bother to point out how stupid she'd have to be, if that had been her intention. To challenge him in the middle of a festival containing tens of his drunken allies, some of the fiercest demons in this time, including the Lady of the Sky Castle - a sure death sentence.

She twists her head to inspect a nearby tableful of goblets, and suddenly he recalls where else he has smelled the particular rot in her scent before - a demon that plagues the villages in the west, where his bastard brother has made his home. One whose name sends the older demon lords of the land in a temper, whenever his name is spoken aloud -

"Naraku." It comes out quietly, but the woman's head snaps back towards him all the same. "You are born of Naraku."

Despite the flare that she must feel in his energy, the slight movement of his claws towards the sword at his side, his father's sword that despite everything Sesshomaru refuses to discard - the woman stares back at him calmly. Her eyes burn violet; in the daylight, he thinks strangely, they must be red as blood.

"If it matters, I don't serve him willingly. In fact - " She grins, head tilting in such a way that anyone watching may assume is flirtatious in its intention - "I'm pretty much as unwilling as you can get."

He wonders what she means by that. Which, in and of itself, is not a good sign, when you consider who Sesshomaru is.

"Right now, Naraku is still weak enough to be defeated." Kagura stretches her arms out to pull back an imaginary arrow; slapping her closed fan against her forearm, she pops her tongue in a poor imitation of a bowstring's snap. A flash of anger heats Sesshomaru's neck, as the understanding comes; his brother's strange human bride.

"However." Kagura's arms fall to her sides. "Soon, he'll be too powerful to even be purified."

At first, Sesshomaru scoffs. Purification - such a mortal response. But the woman frowns, as though she is annoyed with him. Which in turn, makes him annoyed with her.

"It doesn't matter how much power he thinks he has. He is still weak, compared to any full-blooded demon here tonight." Compared to me.

The woman's fan lands flat on his shoulder. Sesshomaru is too stunned by her audacity to think to pull away, as she leans up to put her lips by his ear.

"Even with the Shikon Jewel?"

When she settles back on the flat of her feet - bare feet, which he notices for no reason like he's noticed everything about her since the moment she arrived - a strange flicker crosses her face at his expression.

"Ah, good. You should take such a thing seriously."

Unwilling, indeed. Heat pulses through the poison in his veins. "The Shikon Jewel is in - "

"Pieces." She flicks her head sharply. "He finds them too quickly. His enemies can't catch up."

Can't - he growls aloud in frustration. She grins again, a faint flush settling across her cheeks, but it seems unintentional; because just as quickly, the fan unfolds across the lower half of her face. He studies the way her eyebrows knit together and feels strangely pleased.

"Anyway, I'm tired of waiting for someone to give that bastard what's coming to him. I want him to lose it all - his power, his pride, everything he's built with our blood." Slowly, the fan lowers; both the blush and smile are gone. "You cut your teeth on victory, Lord Sesshomaru. I assume you don't care about what happens to your family in the West, but rest assured that Naraku won't stop there. He won't rest until he has everything."

She nods her head towards the festival, still roaring around them. Sesshomaru stands in the glow of lanterns, and feels his ancestor's hands pushing at his back.

"By the time I am done with him," he says, dipping his head to mirror her earlier whisper, "Naraku will have nothing."

She shudders. Sesshomaru hears a strange stutter in her pulse, and from the anger that bleeds into her gaze, it is not for romantic reasons.

Not that he has any inclination towards such things, himself.

"Tell me," he says, still leaning low into her ear, "whose name may Naraku beg for mercy in his final moments, along with my own?"

She blinks up at him, stunned. Is it so surprising, that he is not like his mother in terms of hogging credit? But then, his name is that which will be passed down for the rest of time, after his inevitable victory; in the end, he may be the only one who remembers hers.

After a long inhale of time, she smirks. A breeze curls around his shoulders, moving him the slightest bit closer - something he ordinarily would not forgive, if the anticipation of battle was not already simmering through him.

"Kagura."

[quixotic-writer]

Letting Loose

Song inspo: fuck away the pain/one night stand — divide the day

Summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend and kicking him out you begrudgingly head out for work at the bar. After talking it up with Q for a while, you decide tonight’s your night of fun and you invite him over, he gladly accepts and is willing to do anything to help relieve your tension.

Warning: Kinky smut ahead!!!

———————————————————

“Get the FUCK out of MY house.” I threw his suitcase of clothes out of the second story window and watched it fall onto the lawn with a loud thump that echoed through the whole neighborhood. I turn around to look at Devin and I glared at him. He smirked and walked towards me with open arms.

“C’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it.” He places his lips on mine and I shove him off, reel back my hand, and give him a hearty open palm slap across his cheek. “Ow! What the hell!?”

“First off: don’t ‘baby’ me, i’m over the charms. Second: The HELL do you mean you didn’t mean it? Did you not think when you ‘accidentally’ slipped your dick into her? Huh, Devin?” He continues rubbing his cheek and I feel proud of myself knowing that’ll leave a nice mark for him to explain. “I am dead serious this time. Get out, stay out. I see you back here EVER again and i’m calling the cops.” I point to the door for him to leave the room. With a moment’s hesitation he finally leaves, I watch from the window as he picks up the suitcase and drag it all the way to his car like the sad sap he is. His guilt tripping won’t work on me this time, and i’m pretty sure he notices that because he finally turns around to look at me through the window with a scowl.

“You’re a needy bitch. No one will ever put up with you like I did!” He yells before stepping into his car. I didn’t say anything back, just slammed the window closed and turned my back. He wasn’t worth another breath out of me. I slump down onto the bed face down and scream into the pillow. I don’t understand how I forgave him for cheating on me last time, I should’ve known he would have done it again. I was so naïve and stupid.

I continue mentally beating myself up and seethe in my own rage. My skin feels like it’s boiling and I have a tension in my head that feels like there’s a stretched rubber band on the verge of snapping. I don’t know whether or not I want to murder someone, break something, or just find a stranger and fuck them out of spite of my now tarnished relationship.

“Fuck.” I said out loud as I realized I had work tonight down at the bar at 3, I look over at the clock on my nightstand that read 1:00 in red neon numbers. I really don’t want to go especially with the range of emotions I was experiencing, but I had already called out of work so many times this month. If I called out one more time my boss would either hate me or fire me, I really don’t need the second one happening especially because now i’ll be taking on the rent by myself. Even with Devin around, he only paid for the bare minimum so not too much would be changing except a few additional shifts down at the bar. The epiphany of his bullshit only made me even angrier.

I soaked in the tub for a bit to get cleaned up for work and ease my tension just a bit. I take in the scent of lavender and carnations, close my eyes, and gently float my hands through the sudsy waters. It helped a little, but I could feel my nerve endings firing off in annoyance still feeling ready to pounce at any moment. Anything happens at work tonight and I won’t hesitate to give someone a piece of my mind, i’m so not in the mood to be dealing with bullshit of any kind.

I drive over to work blasting some metal music to try and release some of my anger by screaming along. Once I step through the door, I can already get a sense of how this shift is gonna go. It wasn’t a negative energy, but it wasn’t a positive energy either. It was just gonna be the same old same old kind of shift where nothing really happens. Though it’d be boring, i’d rather have that over a high energy night.

“Girl, maybe it’s just me, but your RBF is looking extra intimidating today.” Trin says from behind the counter. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“I’m not rolling my eyes at you. It’s fucking Devin.” Her eyes light up and her eyebrows flick up.

“Please tell me...”

“Yup. I’m over it. This time for good, i’m tired of being his play thing.” She gives me a big hug and is jumping a little as she holds me.

“Finally! He looked like he was dipped in fryer grease anyway. Now you just need to get something else good, and you know that one regular we have is kinda cute. What’s his name again?” She taps me with her elbow a couple of times and I laugh it off. I know who exactly she’s talking about, but I try to avoid giving her the satisfaction of giving out his name as I continue washing glasses behind the counter. “Quinn! That’s his name!” So much for avoiding that.

“His name’s actually Brian, but Quinn suits him better. Yeah he’s cute but why would he want me? Also doesn’t it seem kind of bad to rebound like that immediately after throwing my ex out?” I wasn’t going to deny that Q was cute, but i’d just feel bad using him as a rebound.

“Well first off, I think you’re a smoking hot piece of work that was too god for your ex. Second, you don’t seem sad about losing him, just mad that he was a dick that wasted your time and energy. Why not live for yourself a little and let loose?” She shrugs and goes back to serving drinks and making small talk with customers. She’s kind of right, I didn’t miss Devin and I wasn’t sad about losing him, I was just sad that I willingly allowed myself to be played and manipulated. Her words lingered in my ears as I continued working.

The afternoon slowly bleeds into the evening, it’s Tuesday so all our patrons are taking things slow and easy. It was a perfect pace for me to work at. Not too much work and bullshit, but just enough stuff to do to keep my mind occupied. Trin eventually clocks out for the evening and in her place one of our newbies, Trey, clocks in. It was perfect because I made him do most of the work to get a handle of how the ropes work in the bar. Seniority had its perks. I gossip with a few bar goers as they tell me their stories of their shit office jobs or complain about the typical New York traffic.

“There’s my second favorite bartender!” I turn my head as a deep voice thick with an accent diverts my attention away from one of my customers. There was Q, sitting himself at the counter smiling like a goof ball to me.

“Second favorite is all I get Quinn?” I say with a twinge of sass in my voice. “Shot of Jameson i’m guessing for the big boy to start off his night?” I lean over the bar and I notice his eyes take a quick peek at my slightly exposed cleavage that spilled from my tank top.

“You know it! Besides, you know my buddy Sal will always be at the top as far as bartending goes.” I get his drink ready and slide it over to him. He raises the glass to me with a smirk before he downs it in a swift gulp. I unknowingly stare at him with a slight glimmer in my eyes and he quickly catches me. “Staring’s rude y’know, sweetheart. Could I just get a nice brew also, please?” He says sliding the shot glass back over to me.

“Could say the same for you, Quinn.” I retort back going to clean up some of the dishes and serve up other drink to the few others surrounding him at the bar. I pour him his drink and set it down in front of him with a slight sneer.

“Someone’s on edge today. Been coming here long enough to know when something’s up with you.” The ring band he wears on his middle finger taps against his glass as he awaits a response to his query. My emotions are showing a bit too much tonight and I loathe myself for it, I always held myself to a standard to keep my private life hidden and not allow it to affect my performance at work.

“That obvious?” I say feeling guilty that I may have unintentionally taken some anger out on him. He chuckles a bit and leans in closer, resting his elbows on the counter top in anticipation to see if i’ll play along any further. “I’ll spare you the woeful details of my pitiful heartbreak if I can even call it that. Long story short: Boyfriend cheated and I got his sorry ass out of there.” He has a shocked look on his face and seems as though maybe he shouldn’t have asked. I cackle at his reaction.

“And you still came to work? That’s harder than any shot of whiskey i’ve ever done.” He rakes his hands through his hair as he sits back to process the information. I stare at his arms and his tattoos and his thick fingers. And I, for a second, imagined what it felt like if he held me close with those arms, what they’d feel like gripping my waist. Maybe Trin was right, maybe I need to let loose and have some fun all for myself.

“You know, I may be mad, but i’m sure as hell happy i’m not with him anymore. I’ve been over him for a while to tell you the truth, love was long out the door. He was so restricting it was ridiculous. Can’t wear this, can’t go there, blah blah blah. Don’t know why I put up with it for as long as I did or why I stuck around knowing I didn’t even love him anymore.” I say recalling all the stupid rules Devin had for me. I couldn’t wear anything ‘too revealing’ because it’ll attract ‘negative attention’ and he’ll be ‘embarrassed.’ I couldn’t go to certain places without him, it was all so manipulative because he could do whatever he wanted. If it wasn’t the cheating, the stupid rules would have been the next thing to make me want to dismember him.

“Let me buy you a shot sweetheart.” He slides some money over the counter and I graciously accept, i’d love a little buzz to get through this shift. “Cheers to getting him out of your life. You didn’t deserve that shit. No one does.” Sympathy. That’s something I haven’t seen a guy display in a while towards me. He raises his glass to me with a soft look in his puppy dog eyes and it made my heart feel full. I smile and raise my shot glass before downing the liquid that burns my esophagus as it travels down.

The night carries on, Q and I continue hitting it off and chat the night away in the dreadfully slow bar. We both get bolder and bolder and a little more flirtatious as the time passes. When I look over to the clock overhead, I notice my time in the bar is close to its expiration and even closer to a sense of newfound freedom. I eye Q up and down and I hear Trin’s voice echoing in the back of my head: let loose a little.

“So, Quinn, I’d love to continue this conversation and hang with you more after my shift is over. Maybe go to my place?” We both know where an invitation like this could lead, I chew on my bottom lip a little hoping to he says the words I want so badly to hear tonight. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and then I knew my wish was going to be granted.

“Thought you’d never ask sweetheart.” His fingers trace the rim of his empty glass and I feel my heart start to pound out of my chest. Every time he called me ‘sweetheart,’ it hit me in a whole new way. I go to clock out of work and wish an easy night to my coworkers before officially heading out. Q follows me out and we walk towards the parking lot.

“Shall I drive? I only had one shot and it has long worn off already.” I offer to Q. He hadn’t had much to drink, only a shot or two and a beer and I know he can handle his liquor pretty well, but i’d rather play it safe and be the designated driver for the evening.

“That would be much appreciated since i’m a little intoxicated, also because I have no clue where you live.” He jokes around. We both hop into my car and my music blasts through the speakers. It wasn’t just any music either, it was my Slipknot CD, the one I listen to when i’m especially mad. We both jump at the sudden cacophony of noise and I quickly bolt to turn down the volume. “That tells me exactly how pissed off you were earlier!” He chuckles and I cover my mouth in shame, speechless that the guy i’m trying to swoon just heard the hell that I listen to.

“This is the only thing I have in, I hope you don’t mind.” I can feel my face turning red.

“That’s fine, I don’t mind and i’d love to listen to something a little different for once.” I turn the volume back on and we start to head over to my house. The whole way there as we talked about nonsense, I could see Q out of the corner of my eye head banging to the music, and it eased my nerves in a weird way. Sharing music with someone is a deep form of intimacy to me, seeing someone enjoy what I play is something that fills me with no greater joy. As I catch occasional glances at him, the way the street lights illuminated his face and framed his features just made him seem even more attractive.

We pull into my driveway and I guide Q into my now quiet home. He seats himself on my couch and I mix up a glass of rum and coke for the two of us. I hand him his drink and take a seat right next to him. It was then where he really wanted to get into the nitty gritty of my recent relationship status update.

“So he had rules for what you could wear, where you could go, what you could do? Sounds like the jabberings of someone who’s insecure if you ask me.” He sips his drink. The amount of disgust Q has for the actions of my ex is so reassuring that i’m not crazy.

“Had I not been working tonight, I would have broken every single stupid rule he had for me. Especially the one about what I can wear, that one bugged me the most.” I had a whole outfit saved hidden away in the closet that I had kept secret. I had a sneaking feeling that things would have come to a messy end and bought it out of spite.

“I would kill to see you in it.” Seems as though he’s following in suit with my energy and he’s on the same page as I am. He looks me up and down and slides a hand on my thigh, I already feel my motor revving to go.

“Why leave it to the imagination when I could just give you a show?” His eyes flicker like a candle and I can feel his desires radiating off of his warm skin. I quickly hop up and disappear into my room. In my drawers I find my black lace lingerie that framed and clung to my body in the perfect ways sensing the outfit wouldn’t stay on for too long. Next in the closet I fish around for the wine red velvet halter crop top and the black pencil skirt I had stashed away. As the cherry on top on completed it all with the black platform heels I had.

I step down stairs and Q quietly takes in the view. I slowly walk closer towards him and stop as soon as i’m in front of him between his spread legs.

“Didn’t you know staring is rude, Quinn?” He’s clearly taken aback and I can see him struggling to keep it together. I straddle him and his hands feel over the curve of my ass and venture towards my hips where they rest. He stares in awe at the goods I have on display until he makes eye contact. Those chocolate brown eyes could tell a whole story, and I could never get tired of it. I bring our faces closer and lock our lips together in a deep kiss. “If we’re gonna be having fun tonight, we’re playing by my rules tonight.” I say in a dominating tone. It was my turn to have my way.

“If that’s what you want sweetheart, use me as you wish, call the shots tonight.” I devilishly smile as the sinful thoughts and ideas begin to pour into my head and I feel myself growing wet at the scenarios that play in my mind. Without another word, I take Q by his hand and drag him upstairs to the bedroom. I throw him on the bed and he throws his shirt off.

“So what are your limits Quinn? Ever been tied up? Blindfolded? Teased?” I say as my finger tips trace along his inner thighs, he groans a little at my touch.

“Kinky tonight aren’t we?” I remove my shirt and skirt to reveal the lingerie hidden underneath and go to grab some special items from deep within the closet. “I can handle anything you give me. But just in case, my safe-word is pumpernickel.” I stop in my tracks and try to stifle a laugh.

“Interesting word, but I will be sure to remember it. Now let’s get you out of those restricting pants.” I tug at his belt and remove his pants to reveal the tent that was hidden in his boxers. I rub him through the thing fabric and watch as he screws his eyes shut. “Oh you have no idea what you’re in for now Quinn. This hard already and i’ve barely even touched you.” I bring out the scarf I had and tie his wrists together and tie them up to the head board of the bed, leaving Q vulnerable and open. As a final piece, I place the blindfold over his eyes.

“I’m not allowed to see that smoking hot bod of yours? Now this is torture.” For a moment I look over his body, needy with lust filled desire and it’s eye candy to me. He restrains against the bondage around his wrists and his muscles flex for a moment and I feel myself pulsate at the sight. I lean in close to his ear, the fun begins now.

“Oh darling, there’s much more coming to you.” I crawl between his legs and rub over his sizable bulge and watch as his breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation. “You tell me when you’re close no matter what, if you cum too soon you’ll be punished. Don’t be afraid to make as much noise as you want, i’d love to hear what dirty noises come out of you. Never be afraid of using your safe-word, I may be in control but your well being still matters to me. Got it?” He whimpers underneath my touch.

“Yes, please continue it feels so fucking good.” I smirk as his mouth falls open letting his steamy hot breath escape. I lay a few kisses above the band of his boxers before taking the waist band in my teeth and slowly pulling them down to free his dick that stands at full attention before me. I quickly grab the hitachi wand from my toys and turn it on, a low humming sound fills the room and Q tenses up below me. I tease him a little and trace it along his inner thighs and just around his cock, but never touching it. “Please do something. Anything. I’m so hard please.” I smile because hearing him beg is truly a spectacle and something I wish I could hear all the time. His wish is my command and I place the the wand just below the head of his cock and his back arches off the bed and his fists clench above his head grabbing at the scarf to brace himself for the overwhelming and heightened sensation of pleasure that washes over him.

“Oh shit. God. Please more that feels so good.” I start running it up and down his length and watch as his hips convulse aching for more friction. “I’m close, holy fuck i’m close.” He confesses between moans and I quickly remove the toy and his dick twitches in attempts to find friction to chase the high it craves. Q whines at the loss of pleasure and it’s music to my ears.

“Not just yet. I haven’t even stripped down yet.” I remove my bra and panties and sit on top of Q’s hard on. I grind my hips and feel as his cock rubs against the folds of my dripping wet pussy. “Mmm~” A low hum falls out of my mouth because I know i’m in for quite a ride. He feels so thick and hard outside of my body in this moment, I could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of me. “How bad do you wanna cum?” I say teasing him in a pouty voice and all he can do is let out unintelligible babbles. “That’s not an answer Quinn.” I lift myself up and his groans only get louder and his feet kick at the sheets on the bed at the once again lost friction.

“Please I wanna cum so bad, let me cum please.” I travel up his body until my navel hangs above his mouth, I can feel his steaming breath blowing on me and it only excites me more.

“Show me how bad.” I lower myself down and the moment he realizes what’s going on he quickly gets to work lapping up really fast at whatever his tongue could reach. “Fuck Q that feels so good.” I moan out to let him know he’s doing a good job. I lavish in the sensation of the wet warmth of his tongue plunging into me and circling around my clit, humming to add vibrations, hitting all my most sensitive spots. This man knew how to please a lady. I start grinding my hips to help him out a little as I feel my climax slowly beginning to approach. “I’m gonna cum Q keep fucking sucking on my clit like that.” Like a dog he quickly obeys and gives my wanted attention to my throbbing clit as he bites gently, sucks, and licks it I feel myself come undone and tremble through my high with a drawn out groan.

I decided he’s had enough torture and go to remove the blindfold. He quickly blinks his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dimly lit room after having that sense taken away. I lean down and kiss his lips that are soaked in my juices, moaning as I taste the liquid ecstasy, tongues tangles together in desperation. He hums back and I pull away to trail kisses from his jawline, to his neck, down to his chest, lower and lower until i’m met with his hard on that is leaking with a need for attention. I lick up whatever pre-cum resided on the tip and look up as he watches breathlessly.

“What’s wrong Quinn, cat got your tongue?”

“Quite the opposite. Bitch got my dick.” My eyes go wide and there’s no stopping the ugly laugh that escapes my mouth. It totally ruined the sexy dominating attitude I had going this whole evening but it was comical and swift on his part.

“Shut up that was terrible.” I say, still giggling a little bit. He gives a cocky smile in return.

“Make me.” Those were words he was soon going to mistake. I plunge down and take his whole cock into my mouth with my nose bouncing against his stomach. “Oh fuck!” He yells out at the suddenness of me taking him in. It sure did get him to stop talking as he dissolved into nothing but a moaning mess which only made me wet all over again. With each bob I take, I feel his hips start to match rhythms and start pounding against my face reaching in deeper as his tip hits the back of my throat and I gag a little. “I’m so close please let me cum dammit!” He cries out as the thrusts of his hips begins to falter but never losing power and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Just to torture him a little more, I slide him out of my mouth and back away so he falls away from the high he was so close to. “Please no, not again.”

“Just a little longer darling, all good things come to those who wait.” I straddle him again, but this time I line him up with my entrance, teasing myself as I rub his tip along my folds a little. I sink down slowly and Q’s mouth falls open and his head falls back at the sensation of finally being inside of me. I decided to reward him a little and lean up and remove the scarf that bounds his wrists. “Since you’ve been so good.” I say with a smirk. I slowly start to bounce my hips and feel as he slides in and out of me, hitting all the right spots that make it feel as though electricity is shooting out of every pore. Q’s hands grip at my hips so hard that I think that it might bruise, but it felt good and I knew I had built him up for so long tonight already.

In desperation and relishing the taste of his freedom, he starts slamming hard up into me and I knew he was close but he wasn’t going to say. Just as soon as he thought he had his way again, I tripped that thought away by stopping my movements and using my weight to hold his hips down against the mattress.

“Were you not going to tell me you were getting close?” He tries to use his hands to move my hips, but I wasn’t going to budge. I can feel him twitching like crazy in me and judging by his face he looks as though he’s going to be seeing beyond the stars when he finally releases all i’ve made him pent up. “Beg for it.”

“Sweetheart please i’m so close, this is the third time. You feel so good around me and I just want to cum.” The way he said sweetheart in a sad needy tone just made my heart melt. I release the weight I had on him and a fire ignites behind his eyes. He grabs my waist to hold me in place as he desperately thrusts into me getting faster and faster. I cum for a second time without warning as Q continues pounding into me relentlessly with feverish intent. I feel so oversensitive and i’m hunched over, leaning on top of Q as I whine from the overstimulation. It all came to a quick close with a final hard thrust he releases what felt like endless hot spurts of cum into me with a loud continuous throaty groan.

Finally we both lay there breathless and exhausting from what felt like the best sex i’ve had in ages.

“I haven’t had sex like that in a while.” I tell him as I push the now knotted, sweat drenched hair away from my face.

“I don’t think i’ve had sex like that ever. I don’t usually play sub, something about you got me down on my knees. Wanted you to have your fun.” I felt proud of myself for taking on the role, it felt empowering and a lot more satisfying. I could get used to this. “Y’know, I hope this isn’t just a one night stand because i’d kinda like to take you to a movie.”

“I think i’d like that a lot Quinn.” I say smiling and looking into the mocha puppy dog eyes that had me hooked from the start. Just when I had thought i’d have no chance throwing myself back into the dating ring, the universe drops the most unexpected twists into the tale. My twist: my favorite regular at the bar.

[backtothestart02]

The One - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Taking a tiny break from JBF to write this first chap. I just loved the prompt for it so much! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written so far. :)

...

Synopsis: AU - They met two days before her wedding, but it was more than enough time for him to interrupt the ceremony and yell "I object!"

...

Chapter 1 -

In their bedroom in a loft in a sky riser on the east side of town, Iris West – soon to be West-Thawne – thumbed through her summer dresses, debating which one to wear to their welcome party that afternoon.

Eddie, her husband to be, came up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist before kissing her bare shoulder, nothing on her but a lacy pair of bra and panties.

“I love this idea, you know.”

She frowned, still debating between a yellow dress with subtle butterfly pattern and a flowy pink dress that she’d worn the night he’d proposed.

“What idea?”

“Having a weekend wedding.” His chin propped on her shoulder as his fingers drummed over her torso.

“Oh, right. Me too.”

He lifted his chin and tilted his head at her, analyzing her expression curiously.

“You okay, Iris?”

“Hmm?” She turned to look at him, then pulled free of his loose grasp. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m just…torn between dresses, that’s all.”

“Ah.” He took a step back. “Well, if you wear the yellow one, you could wear these.”

She turned to see him opening a black box displaying a pair of drop crystal butterfly earrings. She gasped and placed her fingertips on the box.

“Oh, Eddie, they’re beautiful.”

He grinned, pulling them free of the velvet and handing them to her. She immediately started putting them on.

“You can wear the pink one to the rehearsal dinner.”

She scrunched up her nose and grinned.

“You know, I think I will.”

“It’ll be symbolic,” he commented, stepping back so she could get dressed. She looked at him over her shoulder as she struggled to zip up the back of her dress. He rejoined her and zipped it up carefully.

“Thank you.”

“The night I proposed?”

Butterflies fluttered inside her.

“You remembered,” she gushed, her hand flying to land over her heart.

“How could I forget?” He grinned. “You looked absolutely stunning.”

She turned around and spun once in a circle, letting the yellow skirt fly up a bit and then popping her foot a few inches off the ground.

“You look stunning in that too,” he admitted, then pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her lips. “Flirty too, fun, exciting.”

She pushed him away with a gentle shove and rolled her eyes.

“Alright, Mister, enough of that. We’ll have plenty of that on our wedding night.”

“I have to wait till then?” He pouted.

“It’s two days!” She blanched. “You can wait two days.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“You can,” she said and slipped into a pair of white heels before moving to exit their bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked, following her figure with his eyes, the soft sway of her hips mesmerizing him.

“I have to talk to Linda about the guest list. Not everyone showing up for the wedding is showing up for the weekend, you know.”

“Right, Linda.”

“And what do you have against my best friend?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…”

She waited.

“Well, she’s never really liked me. Are you sure we shouldn’t have got, I don’t know…a real professional to plan our wedding?”

Iris took serious offense to that.

“Linda is a real professional. She’s had her company up and running for over a year now.”

“No, I know, I know.”

“And she’s dating my brother, so she’s practically family.”

“Right, I’m just saying-”

“She wouldn’t sabotage our wedding either. It’s my wedding too, you know. She wouldn’t sabotage her best friend’s wedding.”

“Even when she doesn’t approve of the groom?” He held his breath.

She sighed testily. “You assume too much. Linda likes you just fine.”

“You want to make a bet on that?” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” She raised one eyebrow.

“Nothing, nothing. You’re probably right. I am analyzing too much. Go have fun.”

She offered him her cheek when he leaned in to kiss her again.

“I am right,” she said. “Now go, get dressed. The party is in just a few hours.”

He looked down at his ensemble.

“I thought I was dressed.”

She pursed her lips to hold in the laughter bubbling up just behind her lips.

“I have to put my make-up on and then I’ll head out.” She paused before glancing at him once and then across the room. “Your shirt and pants are on the bed. Wear your cream shoes.”

He looked over at the bed, then back at her – except she’d gone by then, her heels click-clacking on the bathroom floor. He sighed and looked down at himself again before crossing the room to inspect the outfit she’d chosen for him. He tilted his head to the side.

“I guess it is better. Hmm.”

He started to undress and redress himself. By the time he was finished, he could hear his fiancée exiting the bathroom and heading down the stairs. She probably had her hand on the door now and was seconds away from exiting the loft.

The sound of the door closing seconds later told him he’d been right on the money. He walked over the full-length mirror beside their bed and turned to the side so he could see every angle of his body in the new get-up he was wearing.

The sound of the door opening again caught his attention.

“Iris?” he called out.

“Forgot my phone,” she said, snatching it up and heading back out into the hall. “See you at my dad’s in a few.”

Right. Her dad’s. Another person that he felt hadn’t totally warmed up to him.

This would be one hell of a wedding.

…

Half a country away in a low-rent one-bedroom apartment, Cisco Ramon analyzed his own outfit in the full-length mirror just outside his bedroom. He analyzed his hair mostly, making sure each wave was perfect and brushed his shoulders just so. Unbeknownst to him, his best friend had just exited the bathroom and was approaching him from behind.

“You ready to go?”

Cisco scowled into the mirror when he saw the reflection of his best friend. Then he turned toward him, scowl still in place.

“Plaid? Again? Do you ever wear anything else?”

Barry scoffed, taking offense to that.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. let’s-wear-screen-tees-to-work-every-day.”

Cisco looked affronted by that, but he quickly recovered.

“As you’ll notice, I am not wearing a screen tee today.”

“No, you’re wearing a suit. To the airport.” He deadpanned. Then he stepped back to grab a snack from the fridge. “Don’t you think you should save that for the wedding?”

Cisco’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t think of a response to that, so instead he said,

“Again. Plaid!”

“I’m not wearing it to the wedding, Cisco. I have a suit too. This is just for the airport and the airplane.”

“Long sleeves though?” He scrunched up his nose.

“It’s cold on airplanes. I’m just being prepared.”

Cisco sat down on his couch, letting himself sink into it.

“I guess.”

“I’d really do without the blazer, man,” Barry said around a bite of apple.

“It’s not a blazer. It’s a suit jacket.”

“Even worse.”

Cisco scoffed.

“Don’t you want to be comfortable on the plane? It’s a two-hour flight!”

Cisco hated to admit it, but his less than fashion-savvy friend was making a point.

“I suppose I could opt for a long-sleeved screen tee…”

Barry winked and pointed at him.

“That’s the Cisco I know and love.”

“Though Cynthia never approved of those…” he muttered, looking away and locking eyes with a picture of him and his now ex displayed prettily on the end table. He sighed.

“No,” Barry said. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Cisco turned his head to look at him and pouted.

“No?”

Barry grabbed the picture frame and turned it face down on the table.

“Hey, what did you do that for?” Cisco reached for it and Barry held it away.

“If you turn it up again, I’ll throw it in the trash.”

Cisco gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Cisco sank back down.

“Fine.”

Barry set it down again, still facedown though.

“You know, I don’t know how you can be so…dismissive of the whole thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Barry asked, returning to his apple.

“I mean, you just got out of a relationship too. Aren’t you…mourning the loss?”

Barry snorted. “No.”

“Not at all? You were together for like five months. You had to have formed a bond of some sort. Don’t you miss it? Her?”

Barry shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Unbelievable.” Cisco shook his head.

Barry had to suppress a laugh.

“It was a mutual break up, Cisco. Patty and I just…weren’t meant to be.”

“I don’t believe that.”

This time Barry did laugh.

“Believe it.”

“But you two had so much in common! And you really liked her. I remember how excited you were for your first date.”

Barry shrugged.

“I’m not saying the relationship wasn’t good. It just ran its course. Patty thought so too. It was getting monotonous. We both wanted more, and not from each other. I don’t know how else to say it.”

Cisco frowned again, his eyebrows fusing together. Barry patted his shoulder.

“You’ll understand one day.”

“I won’t.” He sighed, pushing himself further back into the couch. “Cynthia was the one.”

“Maybe she was just the first one.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been with girls before.”

“But have you ever really been in love? Think about it.”

“Well, I… No, I guess not.”

“Sometimes the first one isn’t the one, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

Barry chuckled.

“Alright, then. Maybe the two of you will meet up in a few years, and she’ll decide she was an idiot for dumping you and ask for another chance.”

“A few years? I’m supposed to just wait around hoping this happens?”

“Hell, no. Go out, have some fun. Hook up with a bridesmaid at this wedding we’re going to. Forget about her.”

“Barry.”

“I mean it. Distract yourself until you’ve got her out of your system. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. You can only fight for someone for so long until you don’t have any energy left in you for anyone. Even the person who might actually be the one.”

Cisco thought about that.

“When did you get so philosophical?”

Barry grinned.

“It’s a gift.”

Cisco pushed himself up and off the couch, then headed toward his bedroom.

“Alright, just give me a few minutes to get out of this suit and then we can go.”

“That’s the spirit!” Barry cheered. “It’ll give me enough time to finish this apple.” He took another chomp.

“You’re not wearing plaid to the wedding though, right?” Cisco called out.

Barry stopped halfway to his apple and frowned.

“I don’t…think so.”

“Barry!” he warned.

“I’ll go check!”

And off Barry went to where he’d left his suitcase, making sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had something for the wedding his best friend would approve of.

…

Linda had deserted her. To be fair, they had spent the last several hours ago. But something had come up at the hotel, something about some guests not being able to be accommodated there, even though they’d triple-checked the guest list and had about four hotels booked for all of their guests. Linda had been on the move, determined to not let a single box go unchecked for her best friend’s big day.

Iris understood naturally, but now she felt somewhere between bored and overwhelmed at the slew of people coming into her dad’s backyard. Luckily the yard was huge, and it was decorated to the hilt, also including drinks, appetizers and some outdoor games that didn’t require too much effort in case people dressed up.

She had dressed up after all. And Eddie, who had still not made his way past the parted bushes serving as a gate, was going to be dressed up as well. If he wore what she set out of course, which she was fairly certain he would.

If he wasn’t stubborn about it, of course. What she had set out actually matched her ensemble without being too matchy-matchy. And she was wearing his earrings. That had to count for something.

She smiled brilliantly as another slew of people came into the backyard. She greeted them as kindly as she could, almost missing the tall, handsome stranger that trailed in behind them, nearly taking her off-guard.

He waited politely for her to finish greeting the people in front of him before he eagerly took one large step so he was directly in front of her and then held his hand out to her.

“May I?”

Her brows furrowed, confused as to what he meant, but held her hand out to him anyway.

“You may.”

Smiling slyly, he took her hand lightly in his grasp and lifted it to his lips, where he kissed the back gently before returning it to her.

Iris felt butterflies rapidly beat inside her chest and told herself to calm down. Certainly this hadn’t been the first man to act this way around her, but it had been the first one in a while who was looking at her like…well, like he wanted to devour her, to put it plainly.

She cleared her throat.

“Who are you, exactly? I don’t recognize you. Are you on the list?”

She reached for the list left on one of the tables by Linda, but he stood in her way, and she eyed him suspiciously.

“You won’t even let me look?”

He chuckled lightly, and Iris felt shivers ripping down her spine.

“No, uh, it’s not that. It’s just…I’m not on that list.”

She blinked. “You’re not?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

She swayed closer to him, completely oblivious to how flirtatious she was suddenly being.

“So what are you? A party crasher?”

He scrunched up his nose.

“Not that either. I’m a plus one.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side. “Whose plus one?”

She felt a strange sense of jealousy for whatever girl had brought this tall, handsome stranger to her wedding, and where in the world they had found him.

“Cisco Ramon’s.”

That stopped her straight in her tracks.

“Cisco? As in my high school best friend, Cisco?”

“One and the same.”

The voice was different this time, and while Barry didn’t take his eyes off Iris, she took her eyes off him to see her best friend from long ago entering the backyard and approaching them.

“Hey, Iris.” He moved in for a hug, and she warmly embraced him. “I was parking the rental car.”

“Oh, no trouble.” She took a step back and analyzed them both. “You two aren’t… You’re not like…together, are you?”

Both men spoke at once. “No!”

She laughed, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“We are just friends,” Cisco clarified, squeezing Barry’s shoulder. “This is Barry, Barry Allen. I recently uh…me and my girlfriend, we…”

“They broke up,” Barry slid in.

“Barry and his girlfriend broke up too,” Cisco was quick to add, which earned a scowl from Barry.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Iris said sympathetically.

“But not because we’re gay,” Cisco said.

“Definitely not,” Barry added. “We are the least gay men you will ever meet.”

“So straight,” Cisco confirmed.

Iris couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “My two handsome straight men.”

“Yes,” Cisco said.

Barry smiled brilliantly.

“The drinks are over there.” Iris pointed across the yard. “The games are there, and some appetizers are there, there, and there.”

“Ooo, goody,” Cisco cheered, rubbing his hands together.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” she said as they started to walk off. Barry though, was reluctant to do so.

“You sure you don’t need company?”

Cisco tugged on his shirt sleeve roughly.

“I need company. You’re my plus one, remember?”

“Right.” Sending a devilish smile Iris’ way, Barry went with his best friend towards the punch bowl.

“I’ll see you both later,” Iris called, and right as she did, her husband to be finally entered the backyard. “Eddie!” she called, kissing him on the cheek, then muttering under her breath. “What took you so long?” She looked him up and down. “And why are you not wearing what I set out?” She frowned.

“I changed my mind halfway through dressing.” He looked down at himself. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

Iris swallowed whatever angry, irritated words were fighting to come to the surface.

“No, not too. Come, stand with me. We should be together as a unit when people come in.”

“Right, definitely. But uh, I think I’m going to grab some punch first.”

“Eddie, wai-”

But he had left her, and she had to quickly put her fuming to bed as she saw the next slew of people arriving.

“Welcome!” She glowed brightly. “Thank you for coming. How are you…”

[thecreaturecodex]

Asura Rana, Cas

Image by Daarken, © Wizards of the Coast. Accessed at the Heroes of Horror Art Gallery here

[Furtober finishes off with a big bang and a Big Bad. Heroes of Horror introduced Cas, the Lord of Spite, and I remember a lot of people making fun of him at the time. The idea that a supervillain evil god has the head of a moose was seen as ridiculous, and comparisons to Bullwinkle were common. Nowadays, the fact that moose are huge and terrifying relict megafauna seems to be more appreciated, and there’s something I find appealing about the idea of a prey species becoming the hunter. Appropriate for a god of spite and revenge. The knee pads and codpiece made of human skulls are admittedly silly, though.

The original Cas was NE and a god, and his CR 25 avatar was basically just a 20th level ranger with some extra outsider HD and a few surprisingly weak SLAs. I’ve moved him to LE to fit with his retribution theme, and because his hatred of the gods seems very appropriate for the asuras. I’ve left some of the ranger abilities, but added some inquisitor material as well, in addition to a few new surprises.]

Asura Rana, Cas CR 26 LE Outsider (extraplanar) This giant has reddish brown skin and the head of a moose, the antlers stained with blood. It has clawed hands, cloven hooves and brandishes a large mace of black metal. Its body seems to shimmer with heat.

Cas Lord of Spite, the Red Grudge, He Who Balances the Scales Concerns spite, disproportionate retribution, vengeance Domains Destruction, Evil, Law, Strength Subdomains Corruption, Ferocity, Hatred, Judgment Worshipers inquisitors, vigilantes, the wronged Minions asuras, devourers, revenants Unholy Symbol a rack of blood-stained antlers Favored Weapon heavy mace Devotion spend one hour ruminating aloud on those that have wronged you, beginning in a whisper and culminating in a scream. Gain a +4 profane bonus on Diplomacy checks to gather information, Survival checks to follow tracks, and Intimidate checks. Boons 1: bestow curse 1/day; 2: transformation 1/day; 3: energy drain 1/day

Cas the Lord of Spite is an asura rana who nurses hate and frustration, stoking the fires of vengeance until they erupt destructively. According to his cult, he was once a mortal huntsman with a loving family. He and his family grew isolated from their community, until violence erupted and his whole family was slain. Due to the social standing of his assailants, he could not turn to the law for recourse, and so turned to the gods. When divine intervention was not forthcoming, he swore vengeance against both his assailants and the divine order, fueling his apotheosis through pure rage and resulting in the destruction of the entire kingdom.

Cas’ ultimate hatred is towards the gods, making him a natural member of the asura ranas. His ambition is still greater; he is currently brooding over his lesser position surrounded by more powerful asuras, the Lords of the Nine and even Asmodeus himself. Cas covets true divinity, but he knows he has a long way to go, and this sulking bitterness fuels him. His violent outbursts at every slight make him a fiend of few allies and many toadies, but more powerful archfiends attempt to steer his rage into useful directions.

The Red Grudge enjoys combat, but he even more enjoys drawing out the hunt of a victim and increasing their terror. He is rarely found without the Ebon Rod of Cas, which he wields in two hands in order to feel more savagely its crushing blows. Cas’ blood boils with the heat of his rage, and the shimmer this causes makes him difficult to strike in combat. Cas is a skilled spellcaster despite his love of violence, and uses magic to inflict pain, forbid actions and heal himself and his allies.

Cas’ faithful are few and far between, and often keep a low profile. His cult broods in dungeons and cellars, not meets in exalted temples. He delights in perverting those with legitimate grievances, as he once was, turning them into ruthless vigilantes who kill to punish minor crimes. His priesthood believes that civilization is a thin veneer beneath which lies nothing but chaos, and it must be kept in order through savage violence. They also believe that anyone, even the most holy and pure, can become a follower of Cas if wronged sufficiently. The faithful of Cas have an unfortunate tendency to rise as undead upon their death, continuing their campaigns of violent revenge beyond the grave.

Ebon Rod of Cas (major artifact) The prized weapon of Cas, he occasionally loans it out to his devout in order to strike somewhere where he cannot go himself. The Ebon Rod of Cas is a Large +3 vicious adamantine heavy mace. It acts as a bane weapon against any creature that has caused injury to its wielder for up to 1 year. It is effectively immune to sundering and other forms of direct damage; a creature that deals damage to it must succeed a DC 25 Will save or take that damage instead. The Ebon Rod of Cas can only be destroyed if it is carried for 100 years by an empyreal lord devoted to peace and forgiveness, whereupon it evaporates into mist. 

Cas      CR 26 XP 2,457,600 LE Large outsider (asura, asura rana, evil, extraplanar, lawful) Init +7; Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect good, Perception +39, see in darkness, true seeing Aura frightful presence (60 ft., DC 34) Defense AC 44, touch 26, flat-footed 36 (-1 size, +7 Dex, +1 dodge, +9 profane, +18 natural) hp 573 (31d10+403); regeneration 25 (deific or mythic) Fort +23, Ref +23, Will +28; +8 vs. mind-influencing, improved evasion DR 15/good, epic and cold iron; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm effects, compulsion effects, curse effects, death effects, disease, divinations, energy drain, fear, fire, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 30, electricity 30; SR 37 Defensive Abilities freedom of movement, hateful ward, heat shimmer Offense Speed 50 ft., fly 100 ft. (perfect) Melee Ebon Rod of Cas +48/+43/+38/+33 (2d6+25 plus 2d6 vicious/19-20), gore +40 (2d8+7 plus 2d6 fire) or 2 claws +45 (2d6+12 plus 2d6 fire), gore +45 (2d8+12 plus 2d6 fire) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks agony beam, favored enemy (dragons +2, good outsiders +6, evil outsiders +4, humans +4, magical beasts +2) Spell-like Abilities CL 26th, concentration +35 Constant—detect good, freedom of movement, mind blank, true seeing At will—bestow curse (DC 23), enervation, greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. material only), malicious spite (DC 23), permanent image (DC 25), vampiric touch 3/day—command undead (DC 26), fire storm (DC 27), greater dispel magic, instant enemy, quickened major curse (DC 25), summon asuras 1/day—energy drain (DC 28), unhallow, wail of the banshee (DC 28), wish Spells CL 20th, concentration +29 6th (6/day)—blade barrier (DC 25), harm (DC 25), heal (DC 25), mass fester (DC 25), overwhelming presence (DC 25) 5th (7/day)—dispel good (DC 24), geas/quest, greater command (DC 24), mass castigate (DC 24), unwilling shield (DC 24) 4th (7/day)—cure critical wounds (DC 23), divination, divine power, fear (DC 23), greater invisibility, spell immunity 3rd (7/day)—arcane sight, deeper darkness, dimensional anchor, heroism, terrible remorse (DC 22), ward the faithful 2nd (7/day)—cure moderate wounds (DC 21), howling agony (DC 21), knock, resist energy, silence (DC 21), spiritual weapon 1st (8/day)—bless, comprehend languages, cure light wounds, divine favor, expeditious retreat, shield of faith 0th—bleed (DC 19), brand (DC 19), create water, detect magic, read magic, resistance Statistics Str 35, Dex 25, Con 37, Int 22, Wis 28, Cha 28 Base Atk +31; CMB +44; CMD 61 Feats Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Dazzling Display, Dodge, Improved Critical (mace), Intimidating Prowess, Mobility, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (major curse), Shatter Defenses, Spring Attack, Staggering Critical, Stand Still, Stunning Critical, Whirlwind Attack Skills Appraise +29, Bluff +35, Escape Artist +11, Fly +41, Intimidate +47, Linguistics +29, Knowledge (arcana, history, nobility, religion) +29, Knowledge (local, planes) +32, Perception +39, Sense Motive +35, Spellcraft +29, Stealth +31, Survival +35; Racial Modifiers +6 Escape Artist, +4 Perception Languages Celestial, Common, Infernal, 23 others; telepathy 300 ft. SQ asura rana traits Ecology Environment any land or underground (Hell) Organization unique Treasure double standard (Ebon Rod of Cas, other treasure) Special Abilities Agony Beam (Su) Once every 1d4 rounds as a standard action, Cas can unleash a beam of pure pain in a 120 foot line. All living creatures in the area take 12d12 damage and are filled with pain for 1 minute, suffering a -4 penalty on attack rolls, skill checks and ability checks. A successful DC 34 Fortitude save halves the damage and negates the penalties. Multiple failed saves cause the duration of the penalties to stack. This is a pain effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Asura Rana Traits (Ex, Su and Sp) Cas has the following traits:

Cas can grant spells to his worshipers as if he were a deity.

Cas’ natural weapons, as well as any weapons it wields, are treated as lawful, epic, and evil for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

Infernal Resurrection (Ex) Cas rules an infernal domain. If he is slain, his body rapidly melts into corruption (leaving behind any gear he held or carried), his soul returns to a hidden location within his realm, and it is immediately restored to life (as true resurrection) at that location. Once this occurs, Cas can’t use this ability again until a full year has passed. An asura rana that is slain again during this year or is killed by unusual methods (such as by a true deity or an artifact created for this purpose) is slain forever.

Immunity to ability damage, ability drain, charm effects, compulsion effects, death effects, energy drain, and petrification.

Regeneration (Ex) Only chaotic, epic and  good  damage, or damage from a creature of equal or greater power (such as an archdevil, deity, demon lord, or protean lord) interrupts Cas’s regeneration.

Resistance to acid 30, and  electricity 30

Summon Asuras (Sp) Three times per day as a swift action, Cas can summon any asura or combination of asuras whose total  combined CR is  20 or lower. This otherwise works like the summon  universal monster rule with a 100% chance of success, and counts as a 9th-level spell effect.

Telepathy 300 feet.

Favored Enemy (Ex) Cas gains the favored enemy ability of a 20th level ranger. Hateful Ward (Su) Cas gains a profane bonus to his armor class equal to his Charisma modifier. Heat Shimmer (Su) Cas’ body radiates heat, warping his position and protecting him from attacks. Creatures gain a 20% miss chance on attack rolls against Cas if they use sight, and a creature that strikes Cas with a melee weapon, natural weapon, unarmed strike or touch attack takes 2d6 points of fire damage. Weapons with the reach property do not endanger their wielders in this way. If Cas takes 30 or more points of cold damage from a single spell or effect, this ability is suppressed for 1d4 rounds. Spells Cas gains spellcasting as a 20th level inquisitor. He does not gain other class abilities of inquisitors, such as the judgment ability.