#brie peers

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Smoking and other new things (M)

Part two of the I'd Do Anything Series

Summary: Since y/n can't tell anyone she fucked Jeonghan, she has to resort to other methods of achieving her original goal of making people see her in a different, less innocent light.

Warnings: Smoking, talk of drugs, college party- but not Jackson Wang's, skewed perceptions of 'innocence', blow job, throat fucking, dom!jeonghan, sub!yn, inexperienced!yn, creampie, rough sex, semi-public sex, light degredation, kinda mean!jeonghan, treats (don't ask), lots of saliva, minimal impact play

A.N. I just want it known that most of the experiences that y/n explores in this are experiences I TOO am unexperienced. My best friend was google, and the hits of vapes and cigarettes I took SOLELY for research on this fic. don't bully me pls </3

-

The great thing about the events of this past week was that unlike what anyone would have believed in and out of high school, you were finally not a virgin.

You had had multiple people make jokes with you that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone until you were married and even then they joked that you would wait forever after that.

Because somewhere along the line people became convinced that good kid also equaled prude.

So now, excitingly, you had physical proof that you weren’t a prude…

And you couldn’t tell anyone.

You tapped at your desk in aggravation, your finished chemistry work sitting captive beneath your hand. 

What the fuck was the point in all of this? Sure in the moment it had all made sense, because Jeonghan was hot, and you two were alone, and you had wanted to be fucked so badly. But to so easily agree to not tell anyone.

What was the point? What was the point?

It wasn’t like you had only wanted to have sex with Jeonghan to brag about it. Having sex with a specific person wasn’t a brag, but now if you were to make some broad statement about how actually I have had sex before and I also did anal, and he creampied both of my holes- I even have a safe word but I can’t tell you who it was but I mean trust me it happened no one would believe you.

It sounded like you were just making up crazier details to make it more outrageous and therefore believable.

So, so frustrating…

You considered silently what to do with your weekend. You had gotten your homework done by now, and it was a Friday night. This was the perfect chance for you to do something else to change everyone’s opinions on you, but you didn’t even know where to start.

Okay… Not true. You could just go back to square one: Drugs.

And thanks to Jeonghan, you knew just where to go.

You pulled out your phone and opened Hansol’s contact.

Hey. I need drugs.

You thought that was simple enough and within only a few minutes your phone was buzzing. You picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, what the fuck?”

You pursed your lips, and tapped your index finger against the desk.

“What?”

“You can’t just text me that you need drugs,” Hansol clarified, sounding a bit annoyed that he needed to do so. Your eyes trailed to the side.

“You sound like Jeonghan.”

“What?” Hansol replied, confusion etching his voice. You didn’t elaborate.

“What should I say to you if I want drugs if I can’t just text you?” You asked.

Hansol sighed.

“Ask me in person?”

“But-“ 

You heard noise in the background and Hansol turned away from the phone, he spoke but his voice was muffled. Jealousy shot through your chest.

“Are you at a party right now?” You blurted before you could think twice about it. Hansol was quiet for a few seconds.

“… Yes….”

You planted both of your feet firmly on the ground.

“Let me come!”

“Y/n….”

“Please, please, please,” you begged, already getting to your feet to get changed. You switched the phone onto speaker as you began to rummage through your closet.

“Y/n, it’s just…. Really not your scene,” Hansol warned.

“It can be my scene!” You insisted as you ripped your shirt off. You grabbed your phone again, turning it off speaker and smashing it against your face. “Hansol, please, I promise I won’t stand out at all. It’ll be just like I’m one of the guys.”

You physically winced at your own words, and silence followed your statement. Silence that lasted for so long that you thought that surely you had ruined your chance completely.

“... Fine.”

“Really?!”

“But y/n. You have to be…” He let out a sound of frustration. “Good? Fuck. I don’t know, but everyone will be so pissed at me if I’m the one who invited you to this party and you get hurt or some shit.”

You weren’t really listening to Hansol at this point.

“I’ll see you soon Hansol!” You insisted. “Don’t forget to text me the address.”

-

You tried not to let what Hansol had said bother you too much, because who cared if he was still sheltering you when you had actually gotten the invite? You couldn’t help the excitement that was buzzing through your body at the fact that you were finally going to be at a party.

You weren’t sure what to expect, all you did know was that any college party was going to be either exactly like the movies or nothing like them at all.

You found the address of the house easy enough, and to start off the party certainly wasn’t as out of control as you had seen in films. There weren’t people throwing beer cans out of windows, and the music couldn’t be heard from all the way down the block but it did look like there were a lot of people inside.

Outside there were a handful of people talking with red solo cups in their hands, one of them being Hansol. As soon as you got out of your Uber, he saw you and waved you over.

“Hey,” he greeted as you joined him on the steps. He glanced over your outfit, a simple crop top and some jeans. “Good outfit.”

And you could tell by his voice that he was genuinely impressed. You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out over your lips.

“Thank you!” You said brightly. You peeked around his body at the party, and just as you did Hansol raised his vape to his mouth. You watched him, your heart thumping in your chest.

Vaping. Perfectly legal, perfectly safe. You could totally vape, and people would start to see you a little differently. Hansol seemed to watch your gaze and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you… Do you want a hit…?” He asked uncertainly. Your eyes lit up.

“Can I?” You asked. Hansol chewed unsurely on his bottom lip.

“Do you really want to?”

You nodded eagerly and so he sighed and handed it to you. You took the small piece of plastic and pressed it to your lips, but your hesitation was evident. Hansol sighed, that nervous expression still on his face.

“You have to slowly inhale the vapour, hold it in your mouth for just a second, and then open your mouth, breath in the vapour and exhale,” Hansol instructed. You nodded, trying to follow his instructions but when you tried to finally breathe in the vapour, you started to cough. Hansol took the vape from your fingers.

“It takes practice,” he said, but he looked more nervous than you felt. “Do you want a drink?”

He led you into the party, weaving through the groups of people. There were people playing beer pong, others standing around talking, some people were grinding on each other on the dance floor. What you knew for sure was that everyone was drunk.

You needed to get drunk.

Hansol walked right past the bowl of some sort of punch that was on a flimsy collapsable table and instead led you over to the fridge where he pulled out an unopened bottle of Corona beer. You pouted and pointed at the punch bowl.

“Solo cup,” you whined. He gave you another nervous look and instead, held the bottle out towards you more firmly.

“Unopened,” he pressed. You sighed, and decided to just take whatever alcohol you could get. Maybe you would try the punch later when Hansol wasn’t hovering over your shoulder as if he were your babysitter.

Your eyes trailed over the people at the party, trying to figure out who you knew, and who you could try to talk to. Before you could really take in your surroundings, a hand came to your back, and you jumped in surprise.

“Well, is that little y/nnie or are my eyes deceiving me?” The person bellowed. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. His lips curled up into a smile. “It is.”

You sucked in a small breath.

“Seobin?”

He grinned lazily.

“The one and only.”

Seobin was one of the boys that you knew from your time in high school. It may have been a while but you would recognize him on sight. (Considering he had been one of the more popular boys in school.) Seobin had never even talked to you before, and he certainly had never been this close to you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you knocked his hands off your shoulders, which he shrugged off like it had been his decision in the first place. He patted your head like you were a dog and looked over at Hansol.

“What’s little Miss Perfect doing here?” He asked, as if you weren’t standing right there. Hansol shrugged, still looking wildly uncomfortable.

“Y/n wanted to come,” Hansol shrugged.

“OoOoh,” Seobin said excitedly. He turned back to look at you.

“Looking for some way to change the way people think about you?” Seobin cooed lightly. You pressed your lips together in thought. “Looking for someone to make you seem, less pure?”

Your thoughts drifted to Jeonghan, and your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“I already have someone to make me less pure,” you mumbled softly. “Don’t need you to make me seem it.”

Seobin laughed in surprise at your brazeness and he clapped his hand on your shoulder, and tightened his grip so that you were still in place. He leaned forward, his nose nearly brushing yours.

“You’re telling me you’re not a virgin anymore?”

Your face burned as Seobin got knocked off of you.

“Fuck off,” Hansol bit out. “Stop messing with her.” 

Seobin shrugged off Hansol.

“I’m not messing with her,” he grumbled. He looked at you. “Am I messing with you?”

You pursed your lips.

“I’m not a virgin,” you said, sounding like a whiney kid. Both Hansol and Seobin stared at you, before finally Seobin burst out in a loud obnoxious laugh.

“I need a fucking cigarette.”

You watched as Seobin dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small white box.

You stared at the box in Seobin’s hand, your heart thumping in your chest.

“I’ll just be a second,” he commented. He raised his free hand to pat your cheek condescendingly. “Why don’t you wait here for me huh?”

Your face burned.

“What? You don’t think that I can smoke?” You blurted, before remembering that you were supposed to be keeping your cool. Regardless, Seobin laughed.

“Can you smoke?” He asked.

“Well….” Your foot tapped against the ground in frustration. “I can certainly learn.”

Seobin’s eyebrows rose in amusement, and Hansol grabbed you by your forearm.

“Y/n,” he hissed, pulling you towards him a bit. “What… What are you doing?”

You shrugged.

“I’m going to learn to smoke a cigarette.”

Hansol looked pained.

“Why?”

You shrugged.

“Why not?”

He bit down on his bottom lip nervously and you took that as your opportunity to shake him off and follow Seobin out of the party. Once you two were out in the cool air, Seobin led you so that your back was on the wall of the house. He pulled out a cigarette and gave it to you.

You took it nervously in your hands, noting that it was a bit… Squishier..? Than you thought it would be.

Seobin poked his cigarette into his mouth, clicking his lighter to light the end of his cigarette. He took a small puff and then sighed, gesturing to you. 

“Put it in your mouth,” he said pointedly. Your eyes widened a bit and you did as he asked. Seobin grinned.

“How obedient. Maybe you aren’t a virgin.”

Your face burned but as it did Seobin leaned forward and flicked his lighter on again, lighting the end of the cigarette. He put the lighter back in his pocket. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth briefly.

“Breathe into your mouth, down into your throat, and then exhale.”

You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing as you breathed in. You didn’t really feel like any smoke was entering your mouth. You kind of liked the texture of the cigarette between your lips. 

Your eyes squinted at Seobin who had decided to pin you against the wall with one hand while he smoked with the other, watching you in amusement. You tried to breathe in again, and this time it hit your throat.

You burst into a coughing fit, which made Seobin laugh at you. He plucked the cigarette out of your mouth and grinned at you.

“Are you sure you can smoke?”

You glared at Seobin and he stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He stared at you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You know, you’re actually really pretty.”

Color flared to your cheeks at the comment.

“If you really are still a virgin and looking to lose that status…”

Oh my god, was this really all it took? To head to a party, and drink a little beer, and badly smoke a cigarette and then all of a sudden Seobin would want to fuck you. You couldn’t believe it. How easy this would have been if you had just cut out the middle man and come straight here.

“I…” You trailed off and Seobin took a step forward. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in your face. You turned your head to cough and as you did, his fingers came into your hair, and he led your gaze back to his.

“I can make you choke on a lot of things y/n.”

Your face burned red and you shook your head quickly, your mind flashing to that of Jeonghan. The fast image of his eyes flashing in your mind had you lightly pushing at Seobin’s chest.

“I-I think I’ve choked enough tonight,” you said with a nervous laugh. Seobin’s eyes were still lingering on your lips- Oh my god you really were hot.

“Shame,” Seobin finally said. His eyes flickered back up to yours.

“But if you change your mind.”

If you changed your mind you could just call Seobin.

What a crazy thing to think. That you had options.

You stayed outside for a bit longer, begging Seobin to let you try and smoke again. He gave you the cigarette after you begged a little bit, and you got more used to it after half an hour. You didn’t like it, but you did get used to it.

After you went back inside you drank some more, and Hansol started to finally loosen up a bit, less worried about you as you melded in with the crowd of people.

And by the time you got home that night, drunk and tired, you finally felt like you were actually starting to fit in.

-

Somehow you had managed to get yourself invited to a study session with Hansol and his friends on one of the higher floors of the library in their own study room. After hours of studying and talking, Hansol started to pack up his things and he looked across the room at you.

"If you really want..." Hansol's voice was a bit hesitant as his fingers clutched around the small dark vape cartridge in his hand. "We were all going to get high and watch Finding Nemo."

He shrugged off-handedly as if it was something so mundane to him he couldn't imagine you wanting to do it. And that hesitation made sense because to him, this was mundane. You had heard him and Irene making these plans around you a million times and yet you had never gotten an invite.

But today you had somehow managed to get one.

You tried not to come off as too excited.

"Sure, it's been a while since I've seen Finding Nemo."

Hansol nodded, a smile flickering across his lips as he turned over his shoulder, back toward the room that you two had just come from. You followed him, both of you sticking your heads back through the doorway.

"Y/n and I are headed out," he announced. You sent a timid smile Seungcheol's way, and as you did you turned around, excited to follow Hansol off but instead of following you ended up colliding.

You glanced up, squinting to figure out who was staring down at you with an incredulous expression on his face.

You immediately straightened up, pressing your lips into a tight thin line.

"Oh, Jeonghan, you just missed us," Hansol commented. Jeonghan's eyes flicked over to Hansol's for only a second.

"Us?"

"We're meeting up with Irene, Mark, Eunbi, and Yerin," Hansol elaborated and he so clearly didn't see the expression on Jeonghan's face that you did.

You looked away from Jeonghan, and instead found a spot on the floor, wondering why you felt like a child who had just gotten caught at a party by their parents.

"Y/n's going with you?" He asked. Hansol hummed.

"Not as innocent as we thought I guess," Hansol commented. "Asked for a hit of my vape."

"Yeah?"

His gaze was practically burning into you.

"And you were telling me about that party you went to last-"

Your eyes widened and you darted forward, your hand covering Hansol's mouth before you could consider the repercussions for your actions. Hansol stared at you in confusion, and you forced a laugh, letting your hand slide down to his shoulder.

"Can't tell everyone about the party."

"Considering that Seobin taught you how to smoke a cigarette I would think you would be ecstatic to tell everyone about the party."

There was dead silence between you three, in fact, you weren't even breathing.

"You know, considering the fact you're trying to make people see you more seriously."

Why did Hansol feel the need to double back on that? Why did that just make everything worse?

"You know what? That does make me see y/n in a different light."

You risked a glance up at Jeonghan, who had a scarily calm expression on his face.

"Why don't I walk y/n to Irene's? Didn't Soonyoung have some project he needed to talk to you about?" Jeonghan asked, directing his attention fully to Hansol. Hansol's eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his hands.

"Shit, you're right."

As he thought over Jeonghan's proposition his hand raised to his face, and the light on his vape lit up, the artificial smoke drifting out of his mouth after only a moment.

"Y/n, Jeonghan can get you there. I'll be there in just a few moments."

He held out his vape just the same way that he had a few minutes ago, expecting you to take another hit. You decided not to overthink it. You grabbed the vape, breathed in too fast, and a cool and sharp bit of air and smoke hit the back of your throat. You coughed out in surprise but mostly kept the sudden reaction concealed.

Hansol smiled.

"You're getting used to it. I'll see you in a second."

And then he was rushing off, leaving you all alone with Jeonghan at your side.

It wasn't like you were doing anything wrong. You weren't doing anything that anyone your age had told you not to. You were just trying new things, and hanging out with new people and... Making everyone think differently of you.

Now that Hansol thought you were willing to try all of these new things he was looking at you differently. No longer that smile that haunted you when people asked you if you wanted to smoke with them out of convention. The look in their eyes that said that they knew you were going to turn down the offer, and that look that screamed to you that they looked at you as more of a perfect porcelain doll than a human.

And yet, looking away from Hansol's expression, the way that said that he finally thought you were normal, you turned and looked to Jeonghan's and you saw something else.

He didn't seem to see you as normal necessarily, and there was disappointment, but that wasn't everything that was there... He didn't look at you like you had suddenly changed into something that ruined his perception of you... What was that look in his eyes?

"Cigarettes?" He asked you after a few moments. You stared at him and nodded. "How long were you at that party?"

Your hand raised subconsciously to the eyeliner you hadn't completely scrubbed from off your undereyes. He huffed.

"And you're vaping now too?"

All things that you knew your parents would shame you for, and you felt shame. You felt like you had disappointed Jeonghan, but... Not the way that you felt like you should feel.

"You want me to teach you something today?" Jeonghan asked you. He closed the distance between you two, and dug his fingers into the roots of your hair. "Something like what I taught you the last time we were alone?"

Your breath hitched.

"Yes sir," you barely managed to get out, because as soon as the confirmation was out of your lips Jeonghan's lips were smashing into yours. Your hands quickly fell to his arm for purchase, your eyes smashed shut as every part of you forgot how to think.

You didn't even realize that you were desperately trying to press yourself into the kiss until Jeonghan had pulled away and you realized you were on the tips of your toes.

You stared at him, chest heaving, ready to be obedient for him.

"Today you're going to learn how to be quiet."

Jeonghan shoved you towards a closet and smashed the two of you inside of it. He then dug his fingers into your hair again and forced you down to your knees.

"Today you're going to learn how to suck dick."

You felt your mouth growing wetter as you stared up at Jeonghan, the dim light of the closet framing the dark look in his eyes.

"And today you're going to learn how to hide when you've done something naughty."

You swallowed hard, nodding stupidly as Jeonghan released your hair. He began to undo his belt, the metal clattering loudly.

“Have you told anyone about us?” He asked, and to punctuate the question he snapped his belt. You jumped at the loud crack, watching as he tossed it to the side. You shook your head in negation to his statement.

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed as he unzipped his pants.

“Use your words y/n,” he said simply.

“I-I haven’t told anyone,” you managed to get out. A smile flickered over Jeonghan’s lips.

“Good girl,” he cooed. Your face burned under the attention and Jeonghan’s hands wrapped around the base of his cock, drawing your eyes back to it.

Already the thing was standing hard and heavy in front of you, the tip of his cock only a few inches from your face.

“You’ve never sucked cock before?” Jeonghan confirmed. You shook your head slowly, your eyes not leaving the length of his cock. That had been inside of you. Not long ago, Jeonghan had been fucking you with that and you had taken it (as far as you were aware) like a fucking champ. You could hardly believe it.

Jeonghan suddenly tapped the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Pay attention,” he mumbled. Your eyes flickered back up to his, an apologetic expression crossing your face.

“Giving head is easy,” Jeonghan finally said, he gave his cock a few strokes as he spoke. “Keep your teeth off of my dick, and focus on taking me as far into your mouth as your comfortable with.”

He eyed you for a moment.

“Why don’t you touch it a little first? Get comfortable.”

The way that Jeonghan was talking to you about sucking his dick was absolutely humiliating. Like you were a kid trying to ride a bike for the first time. Still, you did as you were told. You tentatively wrapped your hands around his cock, staring at the tip as you gave it a hesitant pump.

You looked at Jeonghan for approval which he gave with a small nod.

“The head of the cock is the most sensitive part of it,” Jeonghan said, his breath catching a little as the comment made you immediately swipe your thumb over his tip. You felt a little proud to have made him react like that, so after another pump you did it again.

He readjusted the way he was standing.

“Lick it,” he instructed softly, and his fingers came to rest in your hair again. “Just a bit, get me wet with your tongue.”

You nodded slowly, and tilted his cock up a little so that you could give his cock a very small lick. It felt a little awkward, but you still licked again, and again, deciding to treat it like it was icecream.

You didn’t think that the very minimal stimulation would be good at all, but as you started to lick up the base of his cock, Jeonghan’s fingers tightened a bit in your hair. His mouth let out soft little pants as you licked across the expanse of his dick, before you finally grew a bit impatient. You licked the tip of his cock, your tongue pressing against his slit. He let out a barely contained groan, and so you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth.

His fingers gripped at your hair, but you still sucked at his tip, the saltiness of his precum spreading over your tongue.

“Deeper,” Jeonghan grunted out.

You glanced up at him, but his eyes were closed. You slowly began to work more of him into your mouth, but you only had a little bit more of him in your mouth when you stopped, your mouth already feeling full around him.

“Is that it?” Jeonghan bit out impatiently. Your face heated up even more and you tried to suck more of his cock into your mouth, but you ended up choking on it. You pulled off of him completely, little tears sprouting in the corners of your eyes as you coughed.

You hadn’t really imagined that sucking cock would be this hard.

Jeonghan sighed and the grip he had on your hair loosened, his hand sliding down your cheek so that his thumb could rub you just under your chin.

“It’s a process…” He said softly. You caught your breath and nodded, before raising your head a little bit to look back up at him.

“How many girls have given you head?” You asked. The question clearly caught him off guard, his fingers left your face.

“Well, that’s a bit personal-”

“I’m going to do it better,” you mumbled softly. You dragged the tip of his cock back to your lips and you closed your eyes as you slowly worked more of him into your mouth. You decided to do it more like you had seen in porn videos. You eased his cock into your mouth, and worked it in and out as you slowly made your way further down on hin.

“Just take it slow,” Jeonghan encouraged you, his hand was on you again, his thumb rubbing your jaw. You closed your eyes tightly and pushed his cock deeper into your mouth. You got a bit deeper than you had the first time before you started to gag again but this time you tried to push through it.

You forced more of him down your throat.

“Don’t push it too hard,” Jeonghan warned. You ignored him, and choked harder around his cock, saliva dipping down your chin. Jeonghan’s hand came back to your hair and he tightly pulled you off of him. You coughed again, gasping.

“I said don’t push too hard,” Jeonghan reasserted. You groaned, your head tilting a little bit.

“I just…” You trailed off as you caught your breath.

“Sweetheart-” For some reason, the nickname made your face burn. “What you are trying to do, isn’t a blow job. You know why your choking? Because you’re taking my dick down your throat.”

Your face blazed.

“Well, that feels better than just a blow job, right?” You asked hesitantly. Jeonghan’s lips flickered into a smile.

“Immensely,” he agreed, and then his face morphed into something more serious. “But you’re a beginner. And deep throating is an expert move-”

“Just give me advice on how to choke less,” you blurted out, not interested in hearing Jeonghan tell you that you were worse at sucking his dick than everyone else before you. He raised an unamused eyebrow at the interruption. “Please?”

“Breathe through your nose,” Jeonghan mumbled back. “If you’re so insistent.”

You nodded, and sucked in a deep breath before leaning forward again. You sucked him back into your mouth, and like before you eased it slowly deeper and deeper into your mouth. Once it was pushing into your throat you were beginning to gag again, but you tried to do what Jeonghan had suggested and just breathe through your nose.

He was yanking you off of his cock again and you fought to catch your breath, spit dripping down your chin.

“You’re doing fine,” Jeonghan mumbled reassuringly. You swallowed some of the spit in your mouth and looked up at him.

“Does it feel good at least?”

He stared at you in confusion.

“What?”

“When I choke on your dick.”

A strange looked flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he leaned down towards you. His lips quirked up in a small smile and his thumb pushed into your mouth suddenly. You weren’t sure why, but you sucked on the finger regardless.

“It feels amazing when you choke on my cock,” he mumbled softly. “And I would like nothing more than to fuck that little throat as hard and deep as I want to… Holding back is… Difficult.”

Your face darkened a little and you stared up at him, your eyes wide, the question in them hopefully going unsaid-

“You want me to?” Jeonghan asked, amusement etched in his voice. “You want me to fuck your throat like I’m some kind of animal?”

Embarrassment swirled through your chest, and your pussy burned at the way Jeonghan said it. You nodded once.

“You’ve got to beg me for it, y/n,” Jeonghan chided lightly. “I want to hear you begging for me to fuck your little virgin throat.”

Your eyes fluttered shut in embarrassment.

“Please…” You whispered.

“Please what?”

Jeonghan’s thumb prodded at your chin, rubbing your saliva onto it.

“Please fuck my throat…”

Jeonghan’s hum of approval sent arousal thrumming through your body.

“Now that’s a good girl.”

His fingers grasped both sides of your face and he tapped your cheek to make you open your eyes back up.

“Pinch my thigh to stop,” he ordered. You nodded once.

“O-okay..” You mumbled. Jeonghan grinned, and then he was easing his cock down your throat.

At first, he was being careful. He slowly eased his cock into your mouth, his fingers digging into your face as he tried not to force himself too deep too fast. His moans stuttered as he eased himself in and out of your mouth, his breathing strangled.

But the second his cock dipped too far into your throat and you choked, he was losing control.

He forced his cock so deep into your throat, you felt like you were breathing him in. You gagged around his cock, but just as he was pulling out, he was pushing in just as deep and hard. You focused on keeping your teeth out of the way at first, but the more he fucked your mouth, your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed as carefully as you could through your nose…

His moans sent heat right down to your core. Your whole body ached with the need to be touched as he fucked your throat like he needed to do so to live.

You couldn’t believe the sounds he was making. Couldn’t believe that even though saliva was dripping down your chin and you were choking he was still using you like you were some kind of toy.

Out of nowhere, Jeonghan pulled himself out of your mouth.

“Are you ready for me?” You gasped for air, your eyebrows strewn in confusion. Ready for what?

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, frustrated.

“You better be fucking opening yourself up for me,” Jeonghan elaborated. Because your mouth is hot…” He began to slide down towards you. “And tight…” He took your free hand, shoving it into your panties. “And so so pretty…” His lips pressed to yours. “Especially stretched around my cock.”

He smiled, and tapped your face with his hand. Not quite sharp enough to be considered a slap.

“But I want to fuck that pretty pussy, and i expect you to be ready for it.”

He stood back up, towering over you again.

“It’s not my job to make sure you’re open enough for my cock.”

A shiver ran through your body, at both the insuation that he would fuck you- stretched out enough for his cock or not- and at the excitement that he was going to fuck you again. Here?!

Your rice purity score was changing rapidly.

You tried to push two fingers into your pussy, but it was a bit of a struggle, so you focused on just the one for the moment.

Jeonghan tapped the tip of his cock to your lips again and you opened your mouth obediently. He took you by the roots of your hair and pushed his cock down your throat. Your fingers stilled inside you as you coughed around his cock, but he mostly ignored it. 

Besides, you still had one of your hands free, and rested on his thigh. An easy cop out if you needed it.

As you tried to focus on your breathing you also tried to refocus on fingering yourself again. This time you managed two fingers into yourself and you started to scissor those two in and out of your pussy.

Even if you were just at home on your own with one of your dildos you would be rushing this. Honestly, you’d probably get impatient right away and just start to force the dildo into you as is, but since you couldn’t control the timing of your current situation, you focused on your fingers.

Jeonghan pressed your head against the wall so he could fuck your mouth better, but he paused for a moment, reaching down so that he could lift up the corners of your skirt. He saw your hand stuffed in your underwear and a curse mixed with a moan left his lips. He pulled you up by your hair.

“Panties off,” he instructed you. “Want to see that little pussy dripping all over the floor.”

You immediately  struggled to step out of your underwear, and once you did you were back in an awkward squat, your back and head against the wall as you fingered yourself and Jeonghan fucked your throat.

Every now and then, Jeonghan would reach down and pull the hem of your skirt up so that he could watch your fingering and the way that your own spit was dripping down your chin onto your shirt, but you secretly thought it was an excuse to let you breathe.

After a while though, Jeonghan couldn’t keep up the pattern. He yanked you up by your hair, and shoved you into one of the shelves against the wall. Your cheek pressed into old wood, your hands knocking over some books.

“What’s your safe word?” He asked you, as if that’s what you were thinking about when the tip of his cock was sliding in your folds. And to make all matters worse he had you mangled in such a way that moving was impossible, with one hand knotted into your hair.

You squirmed a bit, and Jeonghan’s tip slipped into your pussy, only to be immediately drawn out. A sound of frustration you didn’t even realize you knew how to make was forcibly ripped from your throat, and Jeonghan pulled you back by your hair.

“Your safe word.”

Right. You blurted out your safe word, your fingers finding purchase on the shelf just in time for Jeonghan to sink himself inside of you.

Your fingers clenched tightly at the stretch, grateful that Jeonghan had given you so much time earlier to stretch yourself out.  Jeonghan shifted his hands so that he was pressing his palm into your back, pushing you down hard.

“Oh aren’t you so good for me?” Jeonghan pressed lightly. His hand left your back for only a second, and just as you straightened up his hand was smacking your ass.

You cried out in surprise, the hit sending warmth through your body.

“Don’t fucking move,” Jeonghan growled. His hand pushed down your back again hard, forcing your ass out more. “If I put you in a position you don’t fucking move.”

You whimpered back your response and this time when he pulled his hand away from you, you stayed in position. Even so, he smacked your ass again, and you cried out as he began to set a hard and fast pace of fucking you.

“That’s better,” he praised lightly. His hand brushed your hair off of his neck so it was more exposed to him, and then his hand was pressing down on it, pressing you harder into the shelf. “You’re starting to learn to take dick so well…”

As he spoke he pummeled his cock into your pussy. You let your forehead hit the shelf as you raised a hand to your mouth, trying to muffle your screams as he pushed so deep inside of you that you thought you were going to break- No amount of stretching yourself out on your fingers could prepare you for how deep his cock was pushing inside of you.

“That’s right,” Jeonghan cooed, forcing his cock even harder into you, so hard the shelves shook around you. “Better keep quiet. Don’t want anyone to hear…”

He laughed at his own words.

“Well, you do want people to hear don’t you? You would love for someone to find out that you let me rail you in a closet wouldn’t you?”

You whimpered, your eyes closing firmly shut as you tried to ignore him, tried to focus on keeping your voice down.

“You know, your hovering dangerously far into slut territory.”

You squeezed around his cock, crying out as the simple use of the word made a moan rip out of you.

“Oh fuck, I can’t handle it when you squeeze my cock like that,” Jeonghan groaned, his voice rising in pitch as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still so he could fuck you even harder.

“You know what else makes you squeeze my cock like that?”

He smacked your ass, and as the pain shot through your body, just as he said, your pussy clenched around his cock. He moaned loudly.

“I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum…” He moaned. “Beg for it y/n…”

You knew that if you let your hand leave your mouth you would be screaming for Jeonghan to fuck you harder, but it seemed Jeonghan didn’t care about that because in the few seconds you were considering your options his hand was striking even harder on your ass.

“I said beg.”

“Please-” You blurted out, trying to keep your voice to a steady level, but your whole body was bouncing on his cock. Your heart was thumping in your chest, your own orgasm was rapidly approaching.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jeonghan please come inside of me,” you begged. “Need it deep… Need to feel you for days… Need to-”

Jeonghan’s cock twitched inside of you and he forced his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them hard as a way to keep yourself from screaming as thick ropes of hot cum shot out, deep into your pussy. You came around his cock almost instantly, your pussy milking him of every drop of cum. He gave you a few hard and deep thrust before finally pulling his fingers and cock out of you.

You gasped as you tried to keep your grip on the shelf, your legs shaking as you tried to get yourself together. But, you finally gave up on that and let yourself lower to the floor, your back hitting the wall as your pussy dripped cum. You did your best to try and catch your breath, silence falling between the two of you.

Jeonghan dug into his pocket, and, unbelievably enough pulled out a chocolate bar. You panted where you were now slumped against the ground and stared at him as he unwrapped it a little, breaking off one of the pieces.

“Open,” he said firmly.

You wouldn’t have argued with him no matter the situation. You opened your mouth and let him put the candy in your mouth. He watched you in silence for a little, waiting for you to finish eating that piece of candy before putting another piece in your mouth.

“Y/n…” His tone was scary.

“What?” You asked him.

“Why are you…” He trailed off, sounding a bit frustrated. “It’s just…” He was struggling greatly with what to say. “You’re an adult.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“I’m an adult,” you agreed. He stared at you, broke off another piece of candy and put it in your mouth.

“And all of your friends are now adults,” he continued. “And adults, aren’t bothered with superficial things. They care about a person for… That person.”

You stared at him, and opened your mouth, only to be silenced with another piece of candy.

“Cigarettes are bad for you,” Jeonghan said quickly. Your wide-eyed expression dropped to one of dread, and just as you went to argue with him, he covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. “And you shouldn’t be vaping just so Hansol thinks you’re cool!”

You glared at Jeonghan.

“You don’t need to change anyone’s opinion on you,” Jeonghan said weakly. “You could… You could do anything and people are still going to treat you the same.”

You pinched Jeonghan’s wrist, and he gave you a more pointed look.

“I’m serious.”

You pinched him again and his hand fell to his side.

“Hansol invited me to a party Jeonghan,” you said. You shifted so that you were sitting more upright. “And then Seobin taught me how to smoke and he almost kissed me- And he’d never even looked at me in high school.” You waved your hand through the air. “And today Hansol called me cool.”

“Hansol thought you were cool before,” Jeonghan said. “He only said that to me because he thinks I don’t think you’re cool.”

Your ears perked up at that. Did Jeonghan think you were cool?

“And you don’t want someone like Seobin to kiss you,” he sounded disgusted. “If you wanted someone like Hansol, or Hyuk to kiss you I would get it but not someone like Seobin.”

“Jeonghan I don’t care who wants to kiss me. I just want someone to kiss me.”

The serious expression on his face cracked a little, his lips up-quirked.

“Well, I know someone who could do that for you,” he said, his voice dropping a bit. A smile spread across your lips too, but it seemed to remind Jeonghan of what he had been trying to say. “You don’t need to do all these new things if you are just trying to change people’s perception of you.”

“People don’t take me seriously Jeonghan,” you argued back. This time, growing frustrated of the fact that you had just let him rail you just so that he could lecture you after. You got to your feet, and began to put your clothes back on. Jeonghan just watched you from where he was crouched. “No one takes me seriously.”

“I take you seriously,” Jeonghan replied back firmly. You eyed him.

“You didn’t take me seriously until I demanded you sell me drugs.”

Something flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he got up in a flash.

“That’s not true.”

His tone was stern, but as soon as he was standing he seemed to notice something on your face. He sighed his frustration and reached forward, his thumb brushing over your cheeks, just by the corner of your lips.

“If you think that someone will only like you because you do drugs and let them fuck you anywhere you shouldn’t be friends with them.”

You stared at Jeonghan blankly.

“Do whatever you want y/n,” Jeonghan said after a moment’s pause. “But your friends. Your real ones, they don’t like it. I would be saying this to anyone. Take it from the black sheep. Don’t do anything that will get you hurt.”

He tugged at your shirt so that it fell right on your body, and then he opened the closet door.

“But keep in mind that you have a lot of people who are willing to catch you if you fall.”

He peeked around outside of the closet and then fully stepped out. He gestured for you to follow, and you did. He gave you one more look.

“You haven’t been offering yourself up to people for drugs have you?”

You shook your head wordlessly. He let out a sigh of relief.

“My number is still the same.”

And with that he waved his hand over his shoulder and walked away.

Taglist (go here to join!):

@vintageot5 @woo8hao @toruro @wonudazed @kkakkameori @starlight-night0 @minl0u @alltheshineofthestars-blog @park-hera-gi @melodicrabbit @jeanjacketjesus @sparklyshuji @itgirl-inthemaking @lexix001 @kyeomofhearts @joshhlvr @k-drama-adict @kyeomooniee @jjeongddol @changkyunsbussy @imprettyweird @ttragiquee @colored-confetti @afslme @nerezza123

[heartfullofleeches]

That one Nightmare Darling who's too attractive from the right angle to scare anyone with Brie [🌽Star Yan]. They catch him off guard one evening by crawling from beneath his bed in pitch darkness, but once Brie gets a look at them in better lighting they're kinda.... cute?? Darling pops up at the most convenience moments when the usual material he uses to get himself prepared for a stream doesn't work anymore- How's he supposed to get it up to anything else when Darling's sharp claws and razor teeth have him hooked?

Going the extra mile by saying Nightmare Darling can't harm mortals who aren't afraid of them. They figured they'd let their food marinate a little longer by allowing him to live the first night, but then he had to turn on that stupid lamp and see their face- Now, instead of fearing them - he wants a kiss or two if he's lucky.

-

Brie: Damn it.... The stream's gonna start soon... What am I going to do now?-

[His closest door slides open - A collection of large, haunting, though strangely mesmerizing eyes peering out at him]

Brie: !!!

Brie, covering his lap with a pillow: Thanks for the help, babe!

Nightmare Darling: Consider yourself fortunate I don't have a physical form- or I'd sink my teeth into your throat right about now...

Brie, blushing: Probably not the best threat to throw at me right about now.

-

Brie and Nightmare Darling later come to the agreement that they can have their pick of his viewers as Nightmare Darling can make themselves visible to a select audience. There's bound to be someone out there who genuinely thinks they're scary- Darling gets a physical form while Brie (hopefully) gets a hot monster spouse to call his own. A win win deal for everyone!... Besides the people who's dreams Darling turns into nightmares until they drop dead from the fright.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“Tommy knows the owner,” Grace trills as she leads you upstairs, “he’s around here somewhere, I’m sure.” 

“Right,” you follow her up into the violet-tinted lighting of the private room, “Mr. Shelby must know a lot of people.” 

“Mm, yes, that is the upside of our marriage. There isn’t a single restaurant or shop in this city where they don’t know his name,” she boasts as you stop at the door and she struts across to the slender bar. She hums, a hint of disapproval in her tone, and she pops the cork of the bottle. “That and the drinks.” 

She catches the foam from the neck in her mouth, her lipstick staining the torn edge of the golden seal. She gulps and puts the bottle down, blotting her lips with her knuckles. She turns and strolls around the curved sofa and looks through the windows that peer into the flashing club. 

“Pour me a glass,” she demands, “it isn’t my brand but good enough.” 

You obey. Mrs. Shelby is very precise in what she wants. She never leaves you in need of further directive. Your previous employer often expected you to know what they wanted without saying so. That stint did not last very long. 

The private room is decorated in silver and gold banners, vases filled with matching confetti, and an ivory cake with a big ‘40’ mounted on top. The decor clashes with the rest of the club. This isn’t a refined venue, it’s a place where coeds come to wile away their weekends. 

You fill a stemmed glass with champagne and bring it to Grace as she toys with a pale blonde wave. She is a pretty woman. She has all the elegance her name would suggest. Still, there is a staunchness to her that keeps you diligent. 

“Hmm, I do wonder why my husband is so fond of this place,” she tuts, “though I might guess it.” 

You peer down at the writhing bodies dancing below. Skimp skirts, crop tops, flirty moves; it isn’t your sort of place and you didn’t think it was hers either. She turns and struts away, sitting on the sofa to nurse her champagne flute. You turn to face her, staying by the windowed wall. 

“I won’t complain. Charlotte will appreciate the effort. It might even bring back a few memories for her,” Grace continues on, twirling the glass between her fingers. “The rest of the ladies should be content enough with the champagne and—oh my, please, go to the kitchen and inquire after the appetizers. I was promised brie and crustinis.” 

She sighs as you move for the door and she slurps loudly. As you reach the door, you hear her mutter, “...ever trust him...” 

You leave her there, wallowing with her golden nectar. It is no secret that the Shelby’s are facing marital woes. Even beyond the scope of Mrs. Shelby’s personal assistant, it’s obvious. Their last dinner party erupted in an argument which had their social circle whispering even months later. She blamed the alcohol and he blamed her. 

You find your way to the kitchen, past the burly man serving drinks behind the upper tier bar. You’re permitted past upon the mention of your employer’s name. Within, a man lines trays with tidy hor d’ouevres. Despite his greasy apron, his work looks no different than the private chefs that often serve the Shelbys. 

You hate to ask but you have to. Your ‘when’ is met with a ‘soon’ which sounds more like ‘can’t you see?’ You thank the cook and quickly retreat.  

As you get back to the stairs, you see Mona, Lilian, and Charlotte. The latter looks confused at her surroundings. She has no idea why she’s there. The surprise has worked. You linger then follow up a few steps behind. 

You can hear the furor as you approach the door. Charlotte’s squealing and as you enter, unseen, she hugs Grace who looks more irked then endeared by the embrace. Your employer’s eyes lock onto you and he gestures to you. You serve the other ladies; Charlotte first as guest of honour. 

“This is quaint,” Mona preens. 

“It’s exactly Charlotte’s taste,” Grace snipes, “if only you’d known her twenty years ago--” 

“Grace, I am a married woman now. No need to bring up the past,” Charlotte girds. 

“Oh, tell me the first note of Britney won’t have you undone,” Grace challenges as she lets you refill her glass. 

The woman chirp and giggle. Your employer faces you, “well?” 

“The cook is finishing up. They’ll be here shortly,” you keep your voice low, an expert at not disturbing the others. 

“Mm, it better be worth it.” 

You don’t mention that it hasn’t cost her anything. It’s isn’t your place to say so, or to speak unless spoken to. Some may think your job oppressive but you don’t mind so much. It’s easy to be told what to do. You’ve never been very good at decisions. 

She sips and scrunches up her nose, “ugh, this isn’t dry enough. Go, find my brand. Ugh, he knows what I prefer and he just doesn’t care.” 

“Yes, miss,” you take her glass as she hands it over and you leave it on the bar. It’s miss, not ma’am. Ma’am makes her feel old. When her birthday comes around, it will be her fifth fourtieth soiree. 

You leave the room again and venture back down. You go to the bar and wave your hand at the tall, blond bartender. He nods to show he’s seen you as he continues to serve his current customer. You wait, bobbing impatiently. He forgets you as a flurry of babbling young girls approach from the other side. He takes their orders and you sigh. You put your hand up again. 

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind you and a whistle cuts through the thrumming din. The bartender turns and his blue eyes flicker in the club lights. He nears, looking behind you, almost through you. 

“Mr. Shelby,” he greets. You tense and glance behind you. It’s him. Thomas Shelby. Your boss’ husband. In essence, he is your boss, he pays your bills. 

“She’s been waiting,” he points down at you. 

“Of course, sir, apologies,” the bartender looks down at you, “what can I do for you?” 

“Er, I'm looking for champagne. A specific brand--” 

“Taittinger,” Mr. Shelby calls over your head. 

You nod in agreement. That’s the one. He knows but he didn’t have it in the room. Is his wife correct in his disregard or was it merely an oversight? 

“Quickly,” Shelby demands and shoos the bartender with his fingers. “My wife is here?” 

You face him and confirm his assumption. 

“Mm, I forgot it was tonight,” he says, though you hardly hear him over the music. 

You don’t know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. You rarely, if ever, speak to Mr. Shelby. You’re usually just treated as part of the decor. 

“Keep an eye on her for me,” he reaches past you as the bartender returns and he takes the bottle of champagne, “better get this to her at once. Guard it with your life,” he intones as he stares you down, “she does prize her little indulgences.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you make sure he can hear you above the pulsing noise. 

He tilts his head and steps aside, “on you go.” 

[theprinceandagcd]

wip wednesday <3

i have been so MIA on Tumblr oops - sorry for all the games and things I've missed but I appreciate all the tags!! I'm scheduling this one to post at midnight on Wednesday for me bc life is a lil chaotic rn but we're making it!!

Today I have a tiny snippet of a sequel to my matchmaker kidfic that I posted over the weekend - a small handful of people asked for more with the universe, I'm a pushover, and I personally love them sm that I couldn't quite let them go yet :)

“So, when do you suppose I should ask him?”  Brie wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know, I’m only seven.”  Henry tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, catching his laugh in his throat. “Right. No insight, then, hm?”  “Insight?” Brie peers up at him, mouth open just enough that he can see her missing front tooth. “What does that mean?”  “It’s like… knowledge,” Henry explains, watching as the cogs in her brain turn. He’s constantly amazed by how bright she is, how much she actually craves learning new things. “So if you don’t have insight into when I should ask your dad to marry me, then you don’t know.”  “Oh,” Brie says, blinking. “Yeah, I don’t know. But I wouldn’t wait too long. Daddy asked, too.”  “Asked what?”  “If he could marry you.”  Henry’s heart skips a beat. “What did you say?”  “Yes, duh,” she tells him, flicking at his wrist with her index finger. “I love you.” 

tags under cut :)

@adreamareads @agostobuwan @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @dragonflylady77

@everwitch-magiks @fckngyrs @firenati0n @fullsunsets @henryspearl

@heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jmagnabo92

@kj-bee @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes

@onthewaytosomewhere @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @read-and-write- @sophie1973

@stellarmeadow @suseagull04 @thesleepyskipper @tinyarmedtrex @wordsofhoneydew + open tag for anyone who wants to play!! tag me if you use it <3

[dccomicsimagines]

Bruce’s Birthday - Batfamily Imagine

Requested by Anon - Can I get a birthday with Bruce and the batsibling!reader? Batkids mayhem please

***

Cass peered down at Bruce from her place in the rafters. Below was the Gotham Children’s Charity gala. People in fancy, flashy clothes, milling around. She heard the annoying murmurs of gossip and fake personas. 

Bruce’s shoulders held an unfamiliar tension. She tilted her head. His lips pressed together as he made small talk with a few businessmen. She swore she saw a sadness that felt unknown to her. 

“Cass, you promised you wouldn’t hide up here,” Tim said. He juggled a plate of food in one hand as he shuffled on the rafter to her side. Cass took the plate and helped herself to some baked brie.  

“Watching.” She looked back at Bruce who was now moving through the crowd toward Selina, who had just entered in a sparkly red dress. Cass smiled, noting Bruce seemed happier, but the sadness was still there. Hidden, but barely.

“Yeah, it’s quite a bore this year.” Tim swung his legs as he settled down beside her. He took a grape from the plate. “I wondered if we should have set up Two Face to rob the place or something?”

Cass looked at Tim, narrowing her eyes. “Bad joke.” She turned back to Bruce to find him whispering in Selina’s ear. “Bruce is sad.”

Tim followed her gaze. He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“He’s sad. He hides it, but it’s stays.” Cass gave Tim the plate and wrapped her arms around herself. The simple black dress was comfortable, but she missed her pajamas. After discovering how comfortable they were, she would only change out of them after being bribed with the promise of more cozy pjs. She was on her twelfth set now.

“Well, his birthday is coming up. He always gets sad around this time. It’s probably because of (Y/N).” Tim took a bite of the baked brie, groaning at the taste. 

"(Y/N)?" Cass blinked. She remembered Alfred and Dick mentioning you in stories about Dick’s early Robin days. You were Bruce's oldest child. Apparently, you haven't been home in almost seven years.

"Yeah, they used to make a big deal out of it." Tim chuckled. "Dick told me about it. I wanted to try to do what they did, but...I think it will just make him sad that they won't come home."

"Why?" Cass studied Tim, noting how he wouldn't look her in the eye.

Tim pursed his lips. "I don't know why actually. Dick won't talk about it, neither will Alfred. Must have been a big deal though."

Cass looked back at Bruce. He was staring at the far wall, not really seeing anything. She tapped her chin as an idea slowly began to form in her head.

***

Dick was just settling down on his couch with a bowl of popcorn in hand and Barbara next to him when Cass suddenly climbed out from under the coffee table. He almost spilled the popcorn, but Barbara caught it.

"I knew she was there," Barbara laughed, reaching up to close Dick's jaw. She offered popcorn to Cass.

Cass' eyes brightened as she helped herself and sat cross-legged on the coffee table. "Thank you."

Dick's heart calmed. He chuckled to himself. "What brings you here, Cassie? You don't normally come to Bludhaven unannounced?"

Cass tilted her head, studying Dick with a carefulness that made his hair stand on end. "Bruce’s birthday."

"Yes, it’s next Sunday." Barbara sighed, muting the TV when a loud commercial started to play. "Do you need help finding something for Bruce?"

Cass nodded. She suddenly stood up and walked over to the wall. Dick leaned over, frowning slightly when she picked up the picture of you, him, and Bruce. It had been taken a year after Dick arrived in the manor. The three of you were in Alfred's garden, helping him tend it as punishment for breaking yet another vase.

"That's an old picture," Dick said after Cass held it out to him. "I think Bruce probably has that one."

Cass shook her head and pointed to you. You were so young, so bright eyed. Dick missed you so much that his heart shattered into pieces.

"That's (Y/N). You know about them, Cass," Barbara said after Dick couldn't get himself to speak.

"Bruce is sad. Misses (Y/N)." Cass pointed at you again. "We find (Y/N)."

"No, we can't do that. (Y/N) doesn't want to talk to Bruce." Dick swallowed past the lump in his throat.

Barbara eyed Dick curiously. "So you know where they are?"

Dick's eyes widened. He suddenly realized he might as well be in a viper's den. Cass leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.

"Fine, I do. (Y/N) didn't cut me out of their life. Jay probably knows too. I made sure to reintroduce him once he...got better." The blood ran out of Dick’s face as he found his phone was suddenly in Cass's hands.

"Cass, no." Barbara held her hand out for the phone. "I love you want to help Bruce, but what happened between (Y/N) and Bruce is between them."

Cass shook her head. "How long will they hurt each other?" She looked at Dick's phone before carefully handing it to Barbara.

Dick frowned. He wondered if maybe he should intervene? Seven years had been long enough. Eventually it would be too late for you and Bruce.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket. Now wasn’t the time to revisit the past. He wrapped his arm around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Cass, you aren’t staying?” Barbara asked. Dick blinked, finding Cass by the window.

“No, enjoy your night.” She opened it swiftly and leaped out into the night. Dick hummed, turning to share a look with Barbara.

“I should be worried, shouldn’t I?” Dick bit his lip when Barbara shrugged. 

“Everything will be fine. Now Hunk-Wonder, start the movie.” She leaned forward, kissing him. All thoughts of you and Cass left his mind.

***

You paced your office at the D.E.O. “I don’t care what you have to do. Kill the project. We don’t mess with Gotham,” you snapped into your phone. The agent on the other end stammered. “No, cut it off now or I’ll be down there and you don’t want me down there.”

The agent sighed. “Yes, chief.” You hung up the phone, slamming it on your desk. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm down. 

“Fuck me.” You collapsed in your office chair and spun around to look out your window. It was the Gotham skyline. You snorted. It was missing the smog. Mister Bones thought it was funny to give you a Gotham projection on your fake window. You might have to slip him another exploding cigar again.

Your heart panged, but you pushed it away and turned back to your desk. There were files to look through, memos to send, mission to approve. You rubbed your eyes, wishing you could go home to your apartment. Maybe call the number that person in the bar gave you last weekend? 

However, you shook your head and opened the first file. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the date. A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed past it and focused on the task at hand.

***

The manor library was quiet. Cass’ eyes were on the door as it swung open and Tim walked in. He was consumed by his tablet.

“Tim,” Cass said as she dropped down from the top shelf of the bookshelf and landed silently behind him. 

Tim flinched, almost dropping his tablet. “Geez, Cass.” He let out a shaky breath, pressing a hand against his chest. 

“Bruce’s birthday is in three days.” She held up three fingers. “We need to get (Y/N) here.”

“You’re still on that, huh?” Tim ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. It’s not a matter we should meddle with. Have you talked to Dick?”

Cass nodded. “He will not help, but I got their number.” She tapped her temple. “We find (Y/N) and bring them here. For Bruce.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Like kidnap them? (Y/N) was pretty much a badass. Even if we get them here, then what?” He reached out and put a hand on Cass’ shoulder. “We can’t make them get along. Do you even know why they fought?”

“No, but it doesn’t matter.” Cass brushed Tim away. “Time is short, life is short. We make this happen because we are family.”

A big sigh escaped Tim. Cass smiled, knowing she won. “Okay, okay. I’ll help, but this was your idea. If this blows up, it’s all your fault,” Tim said, handing Cass his tablet. “Type in their number, let’s see what we can find.”

Cass wanted to dance. She knew this would a birthday Bruce would never forget.

***

You knew something was wrong from the moment you stepped into your apartment. Carefully setting down your keys and bag of takeout on the side table, you pulled out your collapsed baton and flipped it to it’s full length. 

A breeze blew through the window. You raised an eyebrow. “Dick? Jason?” You called, turning the corner to your kitchen quickly only to find no one there. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you heard a creak down in your bedroom. 

You moved silently down the hall. A sharp breath gasped behind you. You spun, aiming the baton to hit the person in the face. “Ouch, my nose,” a boy in a Robin suit said, stumbling back and holding his face.

“Why the fuck are you in my house?” You kicked his feet out from under him and held him down with a foot on his throat. He was young, dark hair. Standard Robin. Racking your brain, you tried to remember what his name was. Dick mentioned him once or twice. “Tim, right?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you.” He gripped your ankle. “Can you get off?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” A soft almost silent thump came from behind you. You raised your hand and caught a fist that shot out of the darkness next to you. “Batgirl?”

“Yes.” She stepped out into the light. You took in her in. She was little, but strong. Her face hidden by her mask completely. “We’re here because of Bruce.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You removed your foot from Tim’s neck and stepped back to eye the new Batgirl. What was her name? Jason mentioned she was the daughter of David Cain. Trained to be the ultimate living weapon, but she chose her own path. Cass? That was what he called her?

She helped Tim up. You threw him a box of tissues for his nose. “What does D...Bruce want?” Your gut twisted at the slip. You made yourself stop calling him Dad years ago. It made it less painful.

“Bruce is sick,” Cass said, tilting her head. The look that Tim gave her left you doubting it. 

“And that has to do with me because?” You turned your back on them and went to grab your food by the door. The two followed you to the kitchen as you got out a plate. After a moment, you grabbed two more. 

“He misses you,” Tim said. His nose made him sound stuffed up. You took out an ice pack from your freezer and handed it to him. He gave you a bloody smile, pressing it to his face. 

“Right.” You opened containers, splitting food among the three plates. Luckily, you always bought more than you could eat. Leftovers were must with the D.E.O demanding schedule.

“He does.” Cass took a seat, pulling off her mask. You paused, noting she looked very much like Lady Shiva. Now it all made sense. “You need to come to him.”

You set plates in front of them. “How did you even find out where I live? Or anything about me for that matter?”

Tim and Cass shared a look. 

“I’m going to kill Dick,” you muttered under your breath. “What do you want to drink?” You dug into your fridge. 

“Thanks,” Tim said as he happily took a can of soda. Cass stayed with water. You joined them with your own drink.

“Thank you for feeding us.” Cass’ voice was so soft. You smiled at her. 

“Well, you are family, I guess.” You watched as Tim happily dug into his plate. “Bruce is always picking up new kids.”

Cass frowned, ignoring the food. “You’re angry.”

You took a bite of your food. “At Bruce, I was. Now I’m just...over it.” You shrugged. “He’s going to be him. Nothing I can do about it.”

“He is stubborn. Runs in the family.” Tim took a sip of his soda, smirking when you glared at him. “Alfred said it, not me.”

Alfred’s name made your heart ache. You needed to call him more often. “Yeah, I see you’ve taken to the role of annoying kid siblings very nicely. Dick must be feeling the karma now.” You laughed. “He’s the worst. Always messing with me.”

“Dick didn’t tell us where you were, we found you on our own.” Cass poked at the food on the plate, wrinkling her nose slightly. “Bruce’s birthday is tomorrow.”

You sighed, pushing your plate away as your stomach soured. “I know.”

“Come.” Cass reached out to touch your hand. 

“It’s not that simple.” You flinched away from her. Tim glanced between the two of you, eyes wide. “Some things you can’t come back from.”

“Why?” Cass tilted her head.

You stood up suddenly, taking your plate to the counter. “He wished I’d never been born. Said I was a mistake. I told him he should have died in the alley with his parents.” You winced at the sharp intakes of breath behind you. “But it’s fine.”

“You’re tired.” Her chair scraped and suddenly she was beside you. “You hurt. Bruce hurts too. It’s time to forgive.”

Your temper flared, but you let out a slow breath to cool it. “Why does it matter so much to you?” 

Cass swallowed hard. “Bruce needs you. He isn’t...whole.” She pressed a hand against her chest. “I know people who have regrets because they let things fester. I don’t want that for our family. Jason has made amends, now you should.”

“Well, Jay always needed Bruce. Even when he was younger.” You pursed your lips. Jason craved Bruce’s attention more than anything. Still did. You remembered being jealous, but it gave you time to pursue your own interests without Bruce noticing. “I don’t care.”

“(Y/N), I know it’s not my place and I just met you today, but you’re basically like my sibling with how much Alfred and Dick talk about you,” Tim said. You turned to look at him. He played with his fork, not meeting your eye. “I lost my mom and dad. I wish every day that I could tell them I love them one last time. Bruce isn’t getting younger and things are getting more dangerous...well, I think you don’t want to regret not reaching out or at least trying, right?” 

You sighed. Cass nudged your arm. You glanced between the two of them. “Fine.” 

Cass smiled, eyes lightening up. “Really?” Tim dropped his fork in surprise.

“I’ll go, but don’t get your hopes up. Bruce is still a stubborn pig.” You rolled your eyes as Cass suddenly hugged you. You blinked at the touch before gently patting her back. Tim hesitated, but you opened your other arm and let him join too. “For what it’s worth, it was nice to meet you two at last either way.”

“Ditto.” Tim grinned. Cass just buried her face deeper into your shoulder.

***

Bruce rolled his eyes at the sound of clattering in the kitchen. “Alfred wouldn’t be happy to find you in here,” he said as he opened the door to find Dick, Tim, Barbara, and Stephanie in the middle of attempting to make breakfast.

Dick and Tim were covered in flour. Barbara was by the stove, frying what looked to be turkey bacon. Steph happily chopped fruit. 

Bruce noticed the swelling around Tim’s nose. He made a note to ask him about it later.

“Alfred asked us to help,” Dick said, pushing Tim away from him. Tim laughed, grabbing a towel to try to clean up. 

“He did?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

“Alfred is having tea with a guest out in the garden. He wanted you to join him once you woke up,” Barbara said, rolling her eyes at Dick and Tim. 

“Don’t worry. It’s not Selina.” Steph smirked as she ate a piece of banana. Bruce narrowed his eyes at her, but she just laughed. 

Bruce hummed. “Alright. Barbara, don’t let the boys near the stove.” He walked out with the sound of Dick and Tim’s protests behind him. A rare smile tugged at his lips. 

For the one hundredth time today, he missed you. He imagined you would have been in the kitchen, keeping Dick and Tim out of trouble while baking your special birthday breakfast that only you could make. His heart ached. Why did he push you away when he should have been pulling you close?

Cass was waiting by the doors to the garden. She skipped up to him and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, frowning at the glee hidden in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Alfred’s waiting.” She gave him a quick hug and ran off. 

Bruce stepped out into the garden. He walked the path toward the place Alfred always had tea. Laughter reached his ears as he approached. He stopped just before the final corner, listening.

“That cannot be true. You must be pulling my leg,” Alfred said, chuckling in a way Bruce hadn’t heard in a long time. “They can’t have created a Superman musical.”

“Yep, it’s all the hype in NYC right now. Apparently, it got nominated for a few Tonys.” Bruce’s heart stopped. That voice. Could it be? Bruce peeked around the corner. “I think one of the songs goes like ‘Superman, he flies as much as he sings. Superman, he does all the things.’ Honestly, it’s stuck in my head,” you laughed hard. You were older, more mature.  A lump formed in his throat. His little baby grew up.

Alfred shook his head. “Unbelievable what the theater has become.” 

“I’ll get you tickets next time you’re in town,” you said, picking up your tea cup. 

Alfred clicked his tongue, standing up. “I’m happy you are finally home, Mx. (Y/N).” He poured another cup of tea in the third cup on the table. “Now I believe it’s time for me to go in and check on the others.”

“I’ll come with...” You stood up, stopping when you turned to meet Bruce’s eye. Bruce almost ducked back around the corner, but stopped himself. 

Alfred patted your shoulder. “You both have much to discuss.” He walked toward Bruce, leaning over to whisper. “Don’t you dare blow this, Master Bruce. I doubt you’ll get another chance.”

Bruce pursed his lips, watching as Alfred left. He hummed, turning back to you when you took a breath. 

“So...” You shoved your hands in your pockets, rocking on your feet like you used to do when you were a child. Bruce felt a smile tug at his lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” He approached you slowly. To your credit, you didn’t move away. “(Y/N)...you’ve grown.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that happens after seven years.” 

“I heard you are pretending to work for Broadway,” Bruce said, raising an eyebrow. The Batman in him wanted to interrogate you. The father in him cursed the Batman in this moment. “But you are actually working for the D.E.O.” 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you looked over his head at the manor. “Sure, I am. I should have known that would be the first thing you would say.” Bruce could feel you distancing yourself. 

“I...” Bruce sighed. He pressed a hand over his mouth. “I always mess up with you, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened in slight surprise. “Yeah, you do. I suppose you do it to all of us except maybe the new kids. Tim and Cass seem very nice. Maybe a little too intrusive?”

Bruce blinked. He remembered Cass and Tim went off comms last night. Tim’s bruised nose made more sense. You always aimed for noses. A habit he tried to break you of. “They brought you here, didn’t they?”

“Mostly Cass, but Tim was there too.” You shrugged. “They convinced me to come. Cass wanted me here for your birthday because she said you missed me.” 

He blinked. Of course Cass would have noticed that. “That’s true.” Bruce took a step toward you. “So much. I miss your laugh, your smile, the way you make fun of me at every turn.” His chest was heavy with rare emotion. “You’re my child. I loved you since you were first put in my arms.” A lump formed in his throat. “I was angry and I didn’t mean what I said to you all those years ago. I’ve regretted every day since.”

A cloud covered the sun. Your face disappeared in the shadow. A low hum came from you. Bruce wondered if this was how everyone else felt when he responded with only an indecipherable hum. 

The cloud passed. Bruce saw tears in your eyes as the light revealed your face. “I’m sorry too. What I said in return...unforgiveable.”

Bruce opened his arms. “(Y/N), I’m happy you are home.”

You stared at him for a moment and suddenly you were flying into his arms. Breath left Bruce’s lungs. You were bigger and stronger now. “I love you, Dad.” You whispered softly, hiding your face into his shoulder.

“I love you too, my little cookie monster.” Bruce smirked when you scoffed, pulling away to look him in the eye.

“Don’t ever call me that again, old man.” You narrowed your eyes as Bruce laughed, clapping a hand on your shoulder. 

“Sure.” Bruce led you over to the tea table. “Now I want to hear everything.” You tensed, but Bruce held up his hands. “Nothing you don’t want to tell me and I actually prefer if you don’t tell me about the D.E.O.” 

You snorted. “Wow, you have gotten softer. I thought Dick and Jay were lying.” You took a seat and added sugar to Bruce’s tea. Bruce smiled, realizing you remembered how he took his tea.

“We’ll spar later and then you can see how soft I’ve become.” Bruce studied you. When you were younger, Alfred always claimed you looked a lot like Bruce. Bruce never could see it. He always saw your mother, but now, you were definitely his child and he couldn’t be prouder.

***

Cass tittered, watching you and Bruce from a window on the second floor. The two of you were laughing. Her lips pulled up in a big grin.

“How are they doing?” Tim asked suddenly. Cass jumped a little, narrowing her eyes as he laughed. He stepped up beside her to look out the window too. “I’m getting better at sneaking.”

“Better, but not great.” Cass snorted as Tim gasped. She ignored his protests. Bruce’s shoulders relaxed. His jaw loose, smile lines appeared on his face. She sighed.

“What?” Tim asked once he realized Cass wasn’t listening to him. 

Cass looked at Tim, reaching up to touch his bruised nose. Tim winced. “Bruce is happy now.”

Tim looked out the window. He smirked. “Yeah, I think he is.” Cass wrapped her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them kept their eyes on Bruce and you. The family was finally reunited.

[oneforthemunny]

girl i missed you!!!!🥺🥺🥺 so happy your back! i was thinking for your spooky stories, can you do older! eddie x reader take lilah trick or treating. thank you ❤️

a roo and a boo |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: delilah's first halloween (not exactly the trick-or-treat sorry. i started it and ended here with this but still fluffy and sweet and cute!!).

part of my munny's spooky stories series!

contains: literal fluff and cuteness. dad!eddie, mom!reader, age gap relationship. you can read the full older!eddie works here for all the lore and such :)

“Look at her.” You coo, peering over the padded changing table, wrangling Delilah’s tiny arms and long limbs gently into the costume. A random find you had shipped last minute, random and adorable and everything you’d ever wanted for your babies first Halloween. 

“She’s so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie grinned, dimples creasing in the scruff of his beard, at its beginning stages of salt and peppering like the curls that framed his hairline. “How did you find one this small?” 

“I got it off Etsy, so I could put the size in. Pretty handy because everything was too small for her.” You hum, shushing the small whimper that tore from Lilah’s chest. 

Only three months old, still tiny and fresh and new, but bigger than before. Bigger than when you first brought her home, scared out of your own mind that you’d drop her, break her, hurt her. Eddie was always so calm, so good about your fears and helping you- he’d done this before. He knew what it was like to be scared shitless with a baby. 

“How’d you come up with this?” Eddie’s eyes sparkled when they met yours. “Thought you were doing the bat and I was gonna be Ozzy?” 

“She’s too little for the bat costume. The biggest they made wouldn’t fit her, so I figured next year.” You shrugged. “I thought this was cuter.” 

“A kangaroo, hm?” Eddie’s finger brushed over Lilah’s cheek, grinning at the way she turned into his touch. 

“She’s Roo, Eddie, from Winnie the Pooh.” You glare at him playfully, grabbing the blue sweater next to you with the cross stitched letters ‘ROO’ on the front. “And I have some ears and a brown sweater and I’m Kanga. Get it? Because I’m her Mama.” You babble down at the baby, voice lifting in that airy coo of a tone that had Lilah’s lips curling in a gummy smile. 

“Oh,” Eddie nods, helping you maneuver Lilah’s balled fist through the sweater. “Just a you and Lilah costume?” 

“You get to be Ozzy and a bat next year.” You countered lightly, though your stomach flipped in fear. Fuck, maybe the suprise thing was stupid. Maybe you should have included him. “I mean, I can run to Target and try to find a shirt with Winnie on it or-” 

“-I’m just kidding.” Eddie shook his head, a gentle, calming hand rubbing down your spine. “I think it’s adorable. Both of you.” You beam, looking down at your little Roo, the hoodie with tiny ears that poked up. “Besides, I’m more of a Tigger man myself.” 

You snort lightly, rolling your eyes. “You? Thought you’d be more like Rabbit.” 

“Rabbit? No, that’s you, bunny, c’mon.” Eddie grinned, pinching your thigh playfully so you squealed. 

“You better watch it, Munson.” You pointed at him, fixing Lilah’s little sweater in place. “We have to be at my parent’s house in, like, thirty minutes. And they’ll actually care if we’re late now.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, lifting Lilah carefully into his arms. Her brown eyes blinking back at him, the small furrow of her brows from being disturbed- she looked like Wayne. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, swiping a stack of diapers from under the changing table. “My mom’s already losing it because she can’t wait to see Lilah’s costume. I’m never doing this surprise shit again.” 

“It’s their first grandkid, baby. What did you expect?” Eddie followed you down the hallway towards your shared bedroom. “They’re excited. Brie and Madeline too. It’s her first Halloween.” 

“What time is Brie getting here?” You pulled the brown sweater over your head, folding the slouchy neckline into place. 

“She’s here, I think.” Eddie muttered, eyes squinting, scanning the room undoubtedly for his phone. You bit back a smile. “I told her just to go over to Madeline’s. She’s staying at her apartment anyway tonight since she’s going to Gina’s tomorrow.”

“Oh?” You quip, brows raised in surprise. “They’re talking again?” 

“Yeah,” The sigh Eddie let out was soft, but heavy enough you knew he was… bothered, to say the least. 

Brielle’s silence towards Gina came after her mother’s nasty, cruel words about your pregnancy months ago. Eddie always felt guilty that Brielle was in the middle of the mess that was his relationship with his ex, even if she was the one dragging Brielle into it, weaponizing her even now against Eddie so he’d feel insecure. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to think about that tonight.” Eddie admitted, a soft tone that sounded defeated, hurt, really. 

You nodded, looking at him through the mirror, slipping on your own DIY made Kanga ears on a velvet headband. “I’ll text my mom. Let her know we’re on our way before she shows up and breaks down our door.” You laugh lightly, hand petting over Lilah’s soft cheek, your own lips brushing over Eddie’s for a sweet kiss. 

The drive to your parent’s house was brief, it took longer for you to load up the car. Carriers, diaper bags, extra clothes, strapping in the car seat, everything- it was a chore to pack up a baby to bring, but it was worth it. The look on your mom’s face when you pulled Lilah out of the car, her coos and squeals of excitement. 

“She is adorable. Just precious, oh!” Your mom gushed, ushering her grandchild through the doors, leaving you and Eddie for the rest of the things. “Honey! Look, look at Lilah!” You heard her call, scampering into the house. 

“I think she’s excited.” You roll your eyes playfully, slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Eddie smirked. “Can you blame her? She is pretty cute.” 

“She is.” You nod, head leaning against his shoulder while you walked towards the house. Your felt ears hit his chin, tickling the skin there, but he didn’t move. “Is Wayne still coming?” 

“When he gets off.” Eddie nodded, his hand squeezing your waist softly. “He had to work. Likes to work at the plant on Halloween. They always bring the kids to trick-or-treat.” 

“Really? We should bring Lilah next year.” You look up at him. 

“Yeah, he’d love that. Hope he retires this year though.” Eddie rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to convince Wayne he needed to retire for years, but the older man was stubborn. “I used to take Brielle there every year, and she loved it. He did too. He would always save her the best pieces of candy.” 

The warmth in your chest spread to your cheeks, tugging at your lips, curling into a smile. You liked hearing memories like this with Eddie, not ones tainted with Gina’s venomous actions and words. Your fist balled at the thought- no, you wouldn’t say anything. Not when Brielle drove all the way from Indianapolis to be here. Not when everyone was happy. 

The cackle of the girl in question floated through your ears as the two of you climbed the pumpkin lined steps. Your parents and Madeline had insisted on carving them with Lilah, for her first Halloween, they’d said. She hadn’t done much besides being passed from person to person in her little pumpkin onesie while they carved them, but it made your family happy- it made you happy. 

“... This is so cute! Ugh, Maddy, we definitely still had our costumes from junior year. I know mine’s in my closet at my mom’s. We could have been Piglet and Winnie with her.” Brielle nodded, cradling her tiny, baby sister in her arms.

“Yeah,” Madeline looked at you, brows furrowed in annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have matched.” 

“I didn’t know.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at your little sister, Eddie shutting the door behind you. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

“Well, we could have matched.” Madeline’s lips pursed, only for a moment before she was back to Delilah, cooing at her. “Hold on, Brie, let me get a picture. No, let’s go out by the pumpkins, it'll be so cute!” 

“Hi, Dad.” Brielle muttered, leaning into his hug, still cradling Lilah. 

“Oh! Take my camera, Madeline!” Your mom called frantically, spinning in a half circle looking for her camera. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Your drive ok?” Eddie pressed a kiss to her head, finger tickling down Lilah’s little cheek. 

“Yeah, it was good.” Brielle hummed, following Madeline out the front door. 

“Hi, Mom.” You said, stepping towards her. 

“Hi- oh! That’s so precious, you two match! Where did you find this, honey? It is so cute! It is- hi, Eddie, how are you?- It reminds me of when you dressed up as Tigger one year. Your Dad is looking for the photo album right now, so I can do a side by side.” Your mom rambled, jittery with the excitement of Delilah, the holiday, the side by side post she was already plotting to post on Facebook so all her friends would go ballistic. 

“I gotta see that.” Eddie grinned, hand wrapping around your waist sweetly. 

“Dad is looking through it now- it’s in the second one!” Your mom yelled into the living room, over the re-run of Hocus Pocus playing for the millionth time. “I’m going to go take some pictures with the girls, but there’s chili and hotdogs in the kitchen and- oh, Eddie, I got you Fritos for yours.” 

Eddie blushed, cheeks tingling pink in the warmth of your home. Your mom had remembered from last Halloween, remembered something about him and gotten it for him. It was small, he knew it was, but it made him feel… content? Made him feel like a part of the family. 

Your mom didn’t hear his response, scurrying out to the front porch with her phone to take her own photos. Your eye roll made Eddie grin, pulling you into his side, pressing a kiss against your hairline where your velvet headband met your hair. 

“She’s insane.” You muttered. 

“She’s excited.” Eddie hummed, rubbing a hand down your hip soothingly. 

“She’s lost her mind.” You scoff. “I don’t think she even cares about me anymore. She’s just, like, give me my baby.” 

“Hey, it could be worse. Could want nothing to do with her.” Eddie sighed. He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t tell you that Gina’s parents had been that way. 

Your heart ached for him, leaning into his chest. “I think they’re going to be busy for a while.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “You hungry?” 

“Starving.” Eddie grinned. “Especially for your Mom’s chili. I’ve been thinking about this all week.” 

“God, don’t tell her that.” You snort, arms still around his torso when you walked into the kitchen. “Her head will explode. She’s already got an ego because she’s a Grammy.” 

“Think you’ve got one too,” Eddie teased, eyes twinkling in the yellow light of the kitchen. You frowned, his hand rubbing over the ears of your headband. “You and Lilah in your matching outfits. ‘S cute.” He beamed, love struck and gooey, the way he would schmooze over you years before. 

You fought back the blush on your cheeks, lips twisting to hide your smile. “Yours is gonna be huge next year, Ozzy.” 

“It’s already huge, sweetheart. You know that.” Eddie purred playfully, squeezing the fat of your ass to make you jump and squeal, eyes cutting around to make sure none of your family was around. “I think it’s cute. Surprised she didn’t steal you for photos.” 

“Don’t give her any ideas.” You huff, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet. “How much do you want?” You ask, reaching for the ladle. 

Eddie shook his head, batting his hands away. “I got it. Got yours too, go sit down.” He nodded towards the table. 

You hesitated, Eddie’s hip bumping yours to move out of the way. “I want mine on-” 

“-chili on the hotdog, cheese on top, and no mustard.” Eddie hummed, spreading the bun to put the chili on. His eyes flicked to yours, smug smile on his face. “Right?” 

You nodded, sinking into the chair by the kitchen table, where you always sat growing up. Eddie smirked. “Told you, I got it. I got you tonight, alright? Take it easy. You don’t have to be Mama Be- Kangaroo tonight.” 

Your eyes roll, huffing lightly when you settle into your seat. Eddie maneuvered the two plates and a bowl with far better ease than you expected. It was nice, sitting in your childhood home with your husband, with your family. 

Your mom came bustling in with the photo of you in hand, a tiny toddler in an old school Tigger costume, face painted to match. Your dad holding Lilah in his recliner, feeding her the bottle you packed, content watching whatever sports he’d managed to flip on before your mom would make him change it back to Halloween movies. Wayne came by after his shift, a handful of candy for Brielle and Madeline, giving them a wink and a, “Told you I’d save you the good stuff. Always save you the good stuff.”  

Eddie beamed, watching it all from his own corner of the kitchen. Your mom and Wayne looking over photo albums, Brielle and Madeline giggling in the corner like they used to when they were younger- when the two of you had just met. You flitting between all of them, content and relaxed, Lilah in your arms. 

Eddie knew that Lilah would be loved. That she’d grow up in a better house than he had, that even Brielle had. In the type of family home he’d always dreamed of having, and now he had it, with you- because of you. 

[kirby0strombolli]

Ghostface | Matt Sturniolo P3

'What's the matter Sidney? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

ghostface!matt x reader

Chapter 3: liar.

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

warnings: SMUT!, jerking off, cursing.

a/n: I've never written smut before bear with me guys 😭

______________________________________________________________

y/n's pov

"What's the matter, y/n?" he peers at me with utter malice in his eyes . "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I turned to cry out for help, but his hand closed around my mouth, muffling my screams.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave. I struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile.

My vision began to blur, the world spinning around me as I fought to stay conscious.

'She had a bit too much to drink,' he chuckled to someone in the distance that I couldn't see.

His words echoed in my mind, each syllable a dagger of betrayal.

Lies. He's a liar. I thought in my head, unable to speak from the strong grip he had over my mouth.

No doubt he'd take me to his car and toss me into the trunk like all the unfortunate girls in the horror movies.

My heart pounded in my chest as the realization hit me like a freight train. My life had been turned into a horror movie - a nightmare that I couldn't escape.

Panic surged through me as I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. Matt's strength was overpowering, and I was helpless against him.

But before I could confront him, he removed his hand from my mouth, allowing me to speak. With trembling lips, I managed to stutter out, 'you're a liar.'

After receiving no reply, I gritted my teeth and braced myself for the inevitable, expecting to be roughly thrown into the trunk on his car.

But to my surprise, I felt Matt's touch gentle, not forceful. Instead of being tossed aside like a discarded toy, I was gently laid across the backseat of the car, my body trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion.

I fought to stay conscious, my eyelids heavy as lead, but the world around me blurred into a chaotic mess of shadows and lights.

My fingers clawed at the seat, desperately seeking something to hold onto, but my strength was waning, slipping away like sand through my trembling hands.

Each breath felt like a struggle, the air thick and suffocating as it filled my lungs.

I could hear Matt's voice, distant and muffled as if coming from underwater. He spoke of things I couldn't comprehend, his words swirling around me in a dizzying whirlwind of confusion and fear.

But one sentence stood out to me, 'I killed him '.

But despite my best efforts, consciousness slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, until finally, I succumbed to the darkness, my mind plunging into the abyss of unconsciousness, and confusion.

______________________________________________________________

Matt's pov

As I drove down the deserted road, the weight of my actions hung heavy in the air, the gravity of the situation pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.

Guilt gnawed at the edges of my conscience, as I tried to ignore the growing erection in my pants. But, as I glanced at her through the rearview mirror, a rush of desire surged through me, igniting an insatiable urge of lust.

Her disheveled hair framed her face in a tantalizingly tousled manner, her lips parted ever so slightly as she struggled to regain consciousness.

With each passing moment, my arousal grew, fueled by the soft murmurs and faint moans escaping her unconscious state.

It was wrong, I knew it, after the events at the party, the carnage that she had no idea about...

I couldn't bring myself to ignore my now painfully hard cock, stealing glances at her until I couldn't take it anymore.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with desire and temptation. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I struggled to suppress the lust and desire I had been battling with.

But with each delicate sound she made, a surge of heat washed over me, eroding whatever restraint I had left.

Closing my eyes briefly, I took a deep, steadying breath, attempting to quell the storm raging inside me. Even as I tried to resist, the pull of temptation was too strong to ignore.

This was wrong- I shouldn't be feeling like this when- I was interrupted by a loud moan, the lewd sounds going straight to my pulsing length.

'fuck it.' I muttered under my breath pulling the car over, wasting no time unbuttoning my jeans.

______________________________________________________________

y/n's pov

My head is pounding.

we're not moving. the car is not moving.

'fuck y/n'

The sound goes straight to my core, and I realise I'm wet before I even open my eyes.

As my eyelids flutter open, and I find myself gazing at Matt, who was pleasuring himself, his eyes screwed shut, his hand is pumping his cock, pleasured whimpers to slipping out of his mouth.

With each word, his tone grew more urgent, more fervent, until he was practically pleading, "Please, baby, I need you."

Unable to tear my gaze away, I watched transfixed as Matt's hand moved rhythmically over his length, each movement making me more wetter.

His soft groans filled the air, mingling with the sound of my own ragged breaths as arousal surged through me.

And then, as if unable to contain himself any longer, he succumbed to the overwhelming need, his voice breaking in a guttural moan of pleasure.

Despite the confusion and fear swirling in my mind, I couldn't deny the undeniable heat pooling between my thighs.

Rubbing my thighs together, I shifted uncomfortably against the seat, my body aching with need as a wave of desire washed over me.

Despite the wrongness of the situation, I couldn't deny the overwhelming hunger that pulsed through my veins.

______________________________________________________________

With a newfound surge of boldness, she mustered up the courage to speak, her voice dripping with seduction. "Need a hand there, ghostface?" she purred, gesturing to the mask that lay on the centre console

A wicked grin spread across Matt's face as he met her gaze, his eyes sparkling with lust. "Ride me, cowgirl," he growled, his voice seductively low.

After throwing off her denim skirt, she made her way to the driver's seat, to be met with the sight of Matt, his red tip now leaking with pre-cum.

With a sultry smile, she straddled him, feeling his hardness pressing against her as she sank down onto his lap.

As she sank onto Matt's lengthy dick, she threw her head back in pleasure, as she, at an agonisingly slow pace, began to rock her hips against his, back and forth.

In a haze of desire, Matt reached for the cowboy hat resting nearby and gently placed it on her head. "You look so sexy, ma," he whispered hoarsely, his breath hot against her skin, sending shivers down her spine

Matt's eyes began to close as he gripped her hips tightly as she quickened her pace, beginning to bounce on his dick, as his lips connected with her neck, marking what was his.

He began to trail his lips down to her chest and let out a deep groan as she clenched around him, bucking his hips up as y/n's eyes began to glaze over in pleasure, her mouth open, small gasps audible over Matt's deep groans.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "You're mine," before sinking his teeth gently into her neck again , marking her as his.

Her breath hitched at her possessive declaration, his hands moving down to her ass, and squeezing, making her clench around his cock.

'I'm yours' she whined, her tits bouncing urgently as she chased her climax. That's when Matt became rough, the grip on her ass getting tighter and tighter as he pushed her down onto his cock, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Matt's hands roamed eagerly over her, tracing every curve with a hunger that matched her own. With each thrust of her hips, she surrendered to the ecstasy coursing through her veins, her moans mingling with his.

As Matt thrust into her, his movements became more urgent, his every motion calculated to send waves of pleasure crashing over her.

With each deep penetration, he seemed to hit her g-spot with pinpoint precision, eliciting moans of ecstasy from deep within her throat.

As she felt the climax building inside her, she arched her back, pressing her body tightly against Matt's as . "Oh, fuck... Matt...Don't stop!" she cried out, her voice filled with raw desire.

She arched her back, pressing her body closer to his as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his skin,"Shit, that's it, baby... Come for me," Matt urged, his eyes closed in pleasure.

As they both tumbled over the edge, curse words spilled from his lips, lost in the throes of ecstasy. As she sighed in pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut.

Impossibly, she slept.

taglist:@lexisecretaccx@itssophiasstuff@junnniiieee07

comment if you want to be added to the taglist a/n: I couldn't write the smut with a straight face I'm sorry 😭

shoutout to @freshloveforthefit and @louiscarrotsxoxo because they're amazing.

[dessertgeek]

The Mari Lwyd Twitter saga (2020 - part three)

This is part of my efforts to transcribe @seananmcguire's holiday Mari Lwyd Twitter threads. The hashtag for now is #Mari Lwyd Project, the first post is here, the thread's source is here.

(Many thanks to @dor-min on finding and linking this one!)

There are a couple from this year that are short, and even single replies that Seanan likely didn't have time to reply to. So this is their collection! Authors will be linked in their comments as best I can.

CW for food, just in case.

Lorcan Murphy (Twitter): Alas were I only a mutual, Mari Lwyd I'd offer rhymes crucial. We'd barter o'er offering asked unpredictable Afore presenting a demanded varietal victual The dead from the living must bide dividual But this rhyme for the horse is purely volitional.

Seanan: Your rhyming's exquisite, So clean and refined. I'll grant you a visit, To seek cheese with rind, Or cheese that's been softened, Or processed or plain... When Mari Lwyd's summoned, She sings her refrain.

Cheese or beer! Cheese or beer! I know that you have it here!

Lorcan: Alas all my beer has been spilt in a pan And as unlikely it seems, my cheese melted and ran My flour and yeast in the oven to bake So I'm terrible short of scran you can take Bide if you can, I'll no make it a habit and I'll offer a pretzel and Welsh-German rabbit

---

Cassandra Khaw (Carrd / Twitter): A single wedge of manchego I do possess, Not a wedge nor a morsel more than that, If I was someone who had cheese in excess, I'd offer them to you, and have all your desires.

But lo, you bony equine, Such is all I can give: This lonely cheese of mine, I offer in tithe.

Seanan: To give when there's plenty Is glorious kind: But it's kinder by far When you've little but rind.

I am grateful to you, On this shortest of days, For your holiday spirit And generous ways.

---

The singles!

(I'm posting peoples' handles as I see them, will do my best here. If someone rhymed or made poetry and I couldn't find a 'do not repost' on their profile, I included it.)

John & Bucky: I’m just here to watch A skeletal horse seeking Cheese and wine through rhyme

Stephanie Annand: Alas! For the lack! Of cheese in my home; Will you accept yogurt As onward you roam?

Eleri: I have some ok parm, and a generic swiss A really good chevre would not go amiss This stupid pandemic has cut into my cheese-buying I'm afraid sharing these cheeses, the dead horse would send me flying.

Paige Wolf: Cheese and spiced wine You’ll definitely find; In my kitchen, I’ll fill up your cup!

Come in please, my friend! Time we will spend, In drinking and singing, Bottoms up!

warcabbit: Wassail, wassail? I give you mulled ale and a nice nutty cheese to boot.

It is the season Be kind without reason And generous with gifts and loot.

Stephanie Caitlyn: I do not have cheese, I only have curry, For when I did leave, It was in quite a hurry.

Into the headlights I peer like a deer, But with you I gladly will share my paneer.

Starry_Marie: I know there are many With rhymes that are better But one thing I do have - A large chunk of cheddar

@Chimaera.bsky.social: Oh Mare, at thy feet I lay Some Caveman Blue and olives today. Cambezola roasted with garlic cloves, Squeezed upon fine grilled bread loaves. A bit of Brie to melt your heart, A nutty Parm to fuel your start, Melted Gruyère to dip things in, & Queso fresco (you're looking thin)

Cake and Arsenic: Oh mari lywd, please don't feel down, With your big boney head, in your white cotton shroud, For you'll find that my larder is stocked full of cheese, And you're welcome to come and eat all that you please.

JLH: (not a mutual, but it seems fun and kinda inspired me) Dread equine I hear your call! And in my larder is a prize, A piece of asiago for your skeletal maw Please accept my gift and silence your cries.

[sabraeal]

at home with the glass half empty, Part 1

[Read on AO3]

It’s not that Nanami expected fanfare when he returned to the realm of curses and sorcerers; they hardly have time to mourn their dead, let alone celebrate the living. It’s only…

There should be more to it than this. More than Gojo-senpai’s crooned, ‘Nanami-kun’ crackling over the speaker of his phone, rousing him before even the sun's bothered to heave itself over the horizon. More than the mission brief being a location and time couched in a stream of that idiot's nonsense, more than showing up at to the rendezvous as the sole adult not wearing his high school uniform--

More than the situation going pear-shaped at the moment of contact. At least, that's what he'd thought there'd be when he still trained under these people. Last minute texts seemed normal when he was just some shitty teenager; when he was just some student called in as an afterthought once instructors had deemed the situation safe enough to stand in for a lesson. He'd assumed that when he was an adult, when he finally became a peer rather than a pupil, he'd finally be privy to all the secret strategies the other sorcerers seemed to know down to their bones

Now he'd just settle for a plan before they turned a children’s park into a battleground.

Cursed energy drips off his knuckles, liquid in a way real fire never could be. It flickers with the same frantic rhythm as his breath, a flare of flame before it extinguishes itself on the concrete. That had been the reason he’d left, wasn’t it? That there never had been a plan. That their only way of fighting the creeping tide of humanity’s apathy was to throw more bodies at the problem until it was solved.

Even if those bodies were children.

“Threat neutralized,” he pants, quenching the cursed energy licking over his shoulders. They tense in its wake, braced for a fight long over. “…Gojo-san.”

“As expected from my reliable kouhai!” A lanky arms slings itself over his shoulders, drawing him far too close to that smug smile. “Tell me, was it fun? Is it just like old times?”

“I’ve been doing this for a year.” And Gojo-senpai�� intolerable, as always— never changes his script. Unbelievable that they gave this man dominion over children. “It’s shit.”

He nods, sagely. “Just like old times.”

Isn’t that the truth. Nanami plucks his blazer off the carousel's rail, slinging it over his shoulders. “If there’s nothing else…?”

“What? You’re not going to stick around? Reminisce about old times?” Gojo’s lip juts out, wounded. “Come on, Nanami-kun—”

“I told you not to call me that.” They’re work colleagues, not classmates.

“You were a salaryman, weren’t you? You know about post-work drinks. Happy Hour?”

He hadn’t gone to those either, not once it was clear he would make more money on overtime than schmoozing for a promotion. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Lunch, then,” Gojo-senpai decides far too quickly. As if he’d already planned— “I made bento!”

Ah, there it is. The metal teeth snapping shut on this trap. “All right,” he sighs, slumping under his senpai’s weight. “Show me this…bento.”

*

The paper bag should have been his warning. It’s rumpled, like it’d been pulled out of the bin, the top not even neatly rolled down but merely clenched shut in Gojo-senpai’s fist, like a cartoon bank robber making his getaway.

“I made your favorite,” he says, so saccharine Nanami’s teeth ache. “What is it you always get now? The casse-croute.”

The casse-croûte is a light meal— a snack, really, though a substantial one— an idea that includes but is not exclusive to sandwiches. What he prefers is the jambon-buerre, the parisien, a baguette slathered in butter and layered with Paris ham— or more often, prosciutto— lettuce and brie. But the konbini around here don’t make a distinction between the two, and by the terrible mockery Gojo-senpai’s mouth makes of a French accent, neither will he.

He takes the bag anyway, top pinched between two of his fingers. Between the grit of his teeth, Nanami manages, “Thank you for the meal.”

What he finds inside is…unspeakable.

“Is this…?” His mouth works, at a loss. “Mozzarella?”

“Nice, isn’t it?” Gojo-senpai’s nose wrinkles above his own egg salad, pressed sloppily between two slices of white bread. “Better than that stinky stuff they usually put on. You know it has a rind?”

The bread squishes beneath his fingers— not a baguette at all, not even a French loaf, but some sort of mass-produced bread-like product. A...sandwich roll, shoved into a plastic bag with a half dozen other of its ilk, sold for cheap and then bought by this absolute fool to be split in twain and abet this blasphemy trying to pass as a sandwich. The lettuce is soggy and— he’s pretty sure— shredded. Maybe even iceburg.

Even still, his mouth salivates. Not for this abomination, but the superior sandwich it apes; the same way cursed spirits shuffle, mere shadows of the human fears that birth them. One sitting behind a glass case, wrapped in crinkling film, crusty bread glimmering enticingly beneath the bakery’s lights. He can taste it, the funk of the cheese and the crispness of the lettuce, the baguette shedding sesame as it yielded to his teeth. And the girl behind the counter—

It’s much better than the konbini’s, isn’t it? The curse coiled on her shoulder cocked its fly-head to match hers, as if it had a share in her pride. As if it were anything more than a leech, sucking the life out of her sip by sip, until only a hollowed-out shell remained. He’d gotten rid of it; his last gift to the world he’d left behind. To the girl who made the perfect jambon-buerre.

A year ago now. His mouth twists. A lot can happen in a year. Do her shoulders still sit so proud? So easy? If he went back, would he find her still smiling, or would there be another one of those worms wrapped around her neck, squeezing tighter every night. Killing her day by day, unchecked, no sorcerer to—

Nanami balls up the bag, sandwich and all, and throws it into the nearest bin. That has nothing to do with him now.

“What’s the matter, Nanami-kun?” Gojo sing-songs, impossibly long limbs sprawled over the bench, taking up as much space as his smile. “Don’t like the sandwich? What’s wrong, too much mayo?”

Mayo. He pinches his nose, adjusting the way his glasses straddle it. “I don’t like anything about this.”

The sandwich, the job. The growing amount of cursed spirits spawning around the city. The strange way Gojo-senpai smiles when he asks about it. Gojo-senpai in general.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Gojo's must as well; he slips his out from his trousers, brows knitted as his eyes scan over the message.

“Lucky us,” he drawls, smirk stiff as a carcass across the spread of his lips. “Another cursed spirit, and only a few streets over.”

Nanami frowns as the man unfurls from the bench, casual as a cat on its way to batter yet another mouse. “There’s more now, aren’t there? That’s why you were all so happy to have me back.”

“Whatever do you mean, my dear kouhai?” Gojo swings close— too close, his mouth all teeth. “Clearly we missed your scintillating personality.”

“It’s gotten worse.” He doesn’t need to see the man’s eyes to know how tightly he’s holding them, not when the rest of him is strung as taut as piano wire. “You think they’re going to overrun us, the way they did when Geto-san—”

“See? There he is.” One of those long hands reach out, patting him on the cheek. Slapping, really. “That’s the kouhai I missed so much. Nanami-kun, always so positive.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunts, shrugging him off. A tug fixes the sit of his blazer of his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get going. I’m not about to put in overtime for you.”

Gojo rocks back on his heels as he walks away, taking in a deep breath. Despite the clear skies, a thunder rumbles through the city.

“It’s a lovely day for walk, isn’t it?” he hums, the words dogging Nanami’s heels. “How lucky for us.”

*

The cursed spirit might only have been lingering only a few streets away, but it’s a slippery one, leading them on what Gojo calls a ‘merry chase’ to the other side of town. By the time they corner it, writhing and helpless now that senpai's patience has run out, his stomach is empty enough that even that war crime of a sandwich seems appetizing.

A good thing that he’d put it in the garbage, then. Nanami would never be able to live with himself if he ate mayonnaise with brie. He had never been to France, but he would one day— if only for the food— and they certainly wouldn’t let him in after that.

Gojo-senpai doesn’t stick around to offer another; he’s got to go back to his class, to the children he’s teaching to sacrifice themselves before they even know who they might be. That’s what they’d wanted him to do when he’d first come back. Even had a promising crop of scouted talent, still wide-eyed from having the veil thrown back, the way he had been when he’d first enrolled, but—

But he’d just laughed. Told them to leave all that to Gojo, a man who tasted death and liked the flavor. They had his number; he’d come when they called.

So there’s no reason for him to be here. No reason for him to be idling next to this awning as rain pours down, pelting umbrella he’d bought from the konbini a street over. His old one; the shortest jaunt from his last apartment, closer still to the building where he used to work. One that still didn’t have casse-croute in the case.

But she would.

It’s busy now— the dinner rush, now that the salarymen have been turned out from their offices, ravenous and eager to avoid their empty apartments. Or worse yet, the filled ones— the kind with the children their parents wanted and the wife that begrudges their existence just as much as they begrudge hers.

A red beret blazes behind the counter, but even through the plate glass, it’s outshone by the smile beneath it. She’s been doing well, it seems— it had only even been her at the till before, but there’s two other employees working behind her now. They’re laughing as she tallies up an order, one of them wiping tears from his eyes.

It’s…nice. Good even. More camaraderie than he’d ever seen on the front lines of the stock market. More than he sees now, despite how close these missions fly to death. And that should be enough for him, to see proof of her success, but—

But that fly-head cocks its head, its unblinking stare settling on him through the glass. A larger one than the last. Makes sense; it’s had a whole year to siphon off its sustenance.

Nanami heaves a sigh, and with a nudge of his shoulders, opens the door.

The bell rings, the same bright chime he remembers, but the shop is so full, so lively, that no one bothers to look at the man stepping off to the side, letting another glut of customers through. He collapses his umbrella, careful to keep the extra water from dripping all over her floor. Even from here, he can hear that damn thing chittering on her shoulder, teeth clicking at every twitch of his fingers.

There’s nothing to be done about the thing from back here— he’s not Gojo-senpai, he can’t simply exorcise a spirit from annoyance alone— but he can’t bring himself to join the crowd. To hop in line and simply be yet another customer, not when she could look up and know—

But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He’d been a regular for only a few months more than a year ago. There’s no reason for her to remember his face, at least not enough to see past the new set of glasses on his face.

It’s better that way.

One of her employees passes behind her, leaning down to murmur in her ear, and her eyes jerk up, scanning the back of the shop. Not casual, no— that gaze is sharp, focused. Searching. It skims over him— once, twice— then catches, the tense lines collected at the corners of her eyes easing.

Oh.

She does remember him.

Her mouth opens, a hand lifting to a wave— only to flounder in empty air as the next customer shoulders his way to the counter, spitting out his order. She blinks, attention dragged back to the mundane, to the only reality she knows, and—

He should have never come. What difference did it make if he rid her of that curse? Oh, he can pretend it’s altruism, that all he cares about is gaining one small foothold in this war of attrition, but this isn’t about her. No, all this— it’s about him. About his pride. About proving to himself that these small victories meant something-- that even if he fell protecting this world from the horrors they’d never see, he’d leave a mark. That he'd have done something to make is better.

And now Nanami has his answer: he can push these boulders up this hill all he wants, but they’ll always fall back down. It’s only a matter of time.

He should leave.

The rain is still coming down outside, hard enough it bounces off the awning, splattering his already half-soaked blazer. A cluck catches between his teeth, trapped tight as he wrangles his umbrella open. An unremarkable black, one that will disappear into the sea of identical canopies; one more body in the surging tide, and—

And the bell rings. “Wait!”

He’s too close to feign ignorance, to pretend that he can’t hear her as easily as the heart pounding in his chest. That he can’t see her panting where she leans against the glass, rain dripping onto her chef whites. “This is for you!”

It’s the second time today that a paper bag has been foisted on him, but unlike the last, this one is crisp, a clean white with a neat fold at the top. And when he unfurls it, glancing into its pristine depths—

It’s his usual. The jambon-buerre. It’s a miracle his stomach doesn’t growl. “I didn’t…”

Order anything. He shouldn’t even be here.

“I know!” If he’d thought her smile was bright behind the counter, it is blinding this close. He squints into it, half-surprised it hasn’t burned the clouds away. “I keep one in stock, just in case you stop by. As a thank you!”

He blinks down at the bag. It’s been a year, he doesn’t say.

“Your neck,” he manages instead. “Does it still bother you?”

“Ah…!” Her eyes pulse wide. “Yes! How did you know?”

The fly-head chitters on her shoulder, and if it were possible for it to know what danger it was in, Nanami might have called that beady gaze a glare.

“Could you step closer?” His request isn’t breathless, but it is soft; softer than he’s ever spoken. She follows before he’s even finished, quick enough to leave his mouth strangely dry.

His movements are not practiced like he’d thought they’d be. Before he’d been relying on memory, on the feel of how cursed energy collected in his palms, but now he’s used to the way it sits there, to the way it tingles against his skin. He brings up his hand too fast, expecting the weight of the cleaver, but it doesn’t matter— the cut is same with an edge or without, his fingers honed just as sharp when it comes to little pissant curses like this one. It explodes over her shoulder, like a fly beneath a swatter.

When she breathes in, it’s with noticeably more ease, the tense line of her shoulders softened to a more natural curve. Funny how such a little thing could carry so much weight.

“Ohhh,” she sighs, eyes fluttering shut. Her hand raises, rubbing at where it sat, and he— he has to look away. “That’s so much better.”

“Thank you.” The words are foreign on his lips. “For the sandwich.”

For remembering. He turns, umbrella resting on his shoulder. It’s time.

“Wait!”

Fingers tangle in the sleeve of his blazer. Small, insignificant things, grip so weak a hard breath might break it. But it’s enough. This time, he turns back.

“How…?” Her face scrunches, head shaking. “No, wait. I asked last time, but I don’t think you heard me.”

She plucks her phone from an apron pocket, waving it with a smile. Not a shy one, but hopeful. “Can we exchange contacts?”

He stares. Not…forbidding. Simply…blindsided.

“No pressure,” she tells him brightly, despite the pink flush across her cheeks. “If you drop me a line the next time you’re around, I’ll make your sandwich fresh. No charge.”

That, if anything, tempts him. But still— he should go. It’s not good to make connections among the mundane. It only hurts them when they get caught up in his world.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He smiles to ease the sting. “Thank you, though.”

This time when he leaves, she doesn’t call after him.

*

Nanami waits to eat until he’s home, setting the bag on the counter, right beside his keys. There’s a part of him that’s reluctant to eat it, to take advantage of her kindness when the best he can do is walk away. But the famished part wins out, salivating at the very memory of its taste, of how the butter and brie meld into the most decadent expression of flavor, and—

And he might get a plate, at least. A luxury; he’d always eaten it on the run, trying to finish before he went back to the office, putting more hours in on the clock. Watching his life tick away through rows of a spreadsheet.

He sits down too— ah, what a dream this would have been back then, to sit and savor each bite. To not just cram as much into his mouth as he could before the elevator finish twenty-four flight climb, spitting him out into yet another soulless lobby. He unfurls the bag, extracting the sandwich with exquisite care. There’s a napkin wrapped around it; it flutters to the plate first, and he nearly leaves it there, but—

Sayo, it reads, followed by a string of numbers. Ten of them, to be exact, grouped two, four and four.

Ah. Heat flares where his collar rests at his neck. A phone number. That’s…persistent.

He stands up, skin tingling the same way it does in battle, but there's no curse energy to blame. Only the strange beat of his heart, and the even more foreign sensation of heat beneath his collar. He paces the kitchen, once, twice, trying to expend the tremble in his muscles, to still the half-formed thoughts racing in her head, and--

And with a delicate swipe of his hand, he guide the paper into the bin. Sayo, it still reads, and a number after it. Right there, on top of all his rubbish.

Nanami turns away, taking the plate with him. He’ll eat on the couch tonight.

[firstprinced]

hi pretty people and happy pride month!

long story short - i read a lot of fics of alex and henry. all the ratings, all the lengths, au's and canon. now, this has been going on for a long time (don't ask me how long i will not confess). lately i have been just reading recent works and after sending another fic rec to the gc, i thought to myself, why not share them on tumblr. so this is just that. i will not limit my recs with anything but will write out ratings, wordcount, summary etc and give my own notes (spoilers not included).

SO! here are some of my latest fic recommendations from those i've read during the last week or so! ALL of these are posted between 31st of May and 5th of June 2024. bon appetit!

one more thing, everything not E is very pure in my eyes. all below E are marked with blue and all E fics are in pink.

but daddy, you love him by @theprinceandagcd rated M, 16k. tags: non-famous au, kid fic, mutual pining my comment: so sweet i was about to die. and i cried! minor angst i just cried over how pure it was. alex's daughter in the fic, brie, is the sweetest thing in the whole wide world.

author's summary Alex peers up at Henry’s face, the familiar tenseness in his jaw and mildly disinterested eyes nowhere to be seen. Instead, Henry’s expression is open and borderline delighted, like Brie used an extra strong shot of sorcery to draw Henry in and melt the ice that he usually stays locked behind.Suddenly, Alex’s vague crush on an unapproachable coworker feels realer, all because he’s standing there and looking at Alex’s daughter like she hung the fucking moon. He’s treating the most important person in Alex’s life—his entire goddamn heart—as if she truly matters to him, giving her fist bumps and smiling at her and telling her she’s beautiful like her dad.It’s doing weird things to Alex’s chest and making his palms sweat even in the air conditioned office, and he can’t decide if he’s okay with that development or if he wants to stick his head in Brie’s Easy-Bake oven.

the law of attraction by ao3 user bananamilks rated T, 6k. tags: non-famous au, fluff, no angst, henry is a flirt, bisexual disaster acd my comments: i can never get enough of a confident, flirty henry. alex didn't stand a chance. was giggling and kicking my feet and also full on LAUGHING

author's summary As he’s pulling out his textbook, a shadow crosses over Alex’s bag. Before he can look up, a warm, distinctly accented voice asks, “more exams?” “They never stop,” Alex says. He looks up at Henry, who is grinning down at him with his arms crossed over his chest. If Alex notices the way his shirt is pulled taught over his broad shoulders then that is no one’s business. Henry glances at his textbook, and Alex finds himself angling it so Henry can see better. “Criminal procedure. It’s about–” Henry leans one arm on the table, and his blonde hair flops down into his eyes. He’s studying the book cover like he’s the one with the exam, and this close Alex can see a tiny mole on his upper lip. “Uh… criminal… procedures.” The corner of Henry’s lip quirks up and – Jesus Christ. “You don’t say?” [or: Alex is a law student and Henry works at the library. Naturally, they're smitten]

playing to win (you're in my head again) by @anincompletelist WIP (but written and posting every day or every other day so no sweat)! rated E, about 30k finished, currently 2/7. tags: enemies to lovers, pining, friendship, getting together, dob/sub dynamics, kink negotiation, kink exploration, subspace, aftercare, post-college, masturbation, oral sex, eventual fluff my comments: NOW, i don't know how much i'll rec wips but this one i HAD TO. one, please do read this author's other work if you have not. two, this is everything i could dream up. CHOMP CHOMP. yeah that's my academic peer review.

author's summary Other than Nora, there’s Pez, the one that’d wrangled them all together in the first place and continues to plan their token themed brunches & bar crawls each week; Eliana, or Eli for short, ridiculously talented creative with a heart of gold underneath the leather jacket and the nose ring; and Mateo, their resident bro, all around hype-man and Alex’s fellow bisexual. And that’s pretty much the group. Except for Henry, of course. But Alex tries not to think about him if he can help it. + Or, Henry and Alex are practically perfect for each other. Once they get past the years long animosity and hate-pining, of course.

'we hereby conduct this postmortem' (or something along these lines) by ao3 user natoureuse rated E, 23k. tags: homicide detective alex, medical examiner/forensic analyst henry, character injury, blood and injury, mentions of murder/death/guns and so on, sexual content, feelings realization my comment: SO incredibly funny, beautiful, soft, sweet, FUNNY. i loved everything about it and this author writes so well oh my god! it, because of their occupations, involves some blood and dead people so if that's a hard no so be it but it is SO fluffy you wouldn't believe based on the tags etcetera. adored it.

author's summary “There is evident lack of blood around the wound.” “So that suggests he was dead beforehand?” “It suggests that the blood coagulated before the stabbing, which would mean…” Basically that he was dead beforehand, to summarize. Or; Homicide detective Alex tries to befriend his rude ass coworker, medical examiner Henry.

that's it for today! i'll see if i'll keep this a weekly thing and maybe i'll change the format in some ways but these are the fics i wanted to highlight! show love for new works and works by new authors - comment, leave kudos, all that good stuff 🩵

[firstprince-ao3feed]

but daddy you love him

by theprinceandagcd Alex peers up at Henry’s face, the familiar tenseness in his jaw and mildly disinterested eyes nowhere to be seen. Instead, Henry’s expression is open and borderline delighted, like Brie used an extra strong shot of sorcery to draw Henry in and melt the ice that he usually stays locked behind. Suddenly, Alex’s vague crush on an unapproachable coworker feels realer, all because he’s standing there and looking at Alex’s daughter like she hung the fucking moon. He’s treating the most important person in Alex’s life—his entire goddamn heart—as if she truly matters to him, giving her fist bumps and smiling at her and telling her she’s beautiful like her dad. It’s doing weird things to Alex’s chest and making his palms sweat even in the air conditioned office, and he can’t decide if he’s okay with that development or if he wants to stick his head in Brie’s Easy-Bake oven. --- or, the matchmaker kidfic :) Words: 16397, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Original Child Character(s) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Coworkers - Freeform, Kid Fic, Meddling Kids, Mutual Pining, they're idiots in every universe your honor, Rizcriz Prompt (Red White & Royal Blue), except i went SO rogue with the prompt, the kid was cute and I couldn't stop via https://ift.tt/E3stMa7

[yellingart]

This drawing brings me so much peace and calm.

There's so much that traveling together can teach you about your peers. When reaching the top of a small hill, they discovered a green field filled to the brim with poppies and Nina and Brie stopped to look at them.

Simon also stopped, to observe the mares, the shine in their eyes was really something else. As if they never had seen something more beautiful.

Sometimes it was the smaller things, the trip continued without a word, after that small interference, but he would remember that.

[littlekatleaf]

To love what is lovely, and will not last

I come, after a long absence, with Sandman fic. Not exactly what I'd planned, but I've been fiddling with it for so long and everything else has been blocked behind it.... It's almost 3am and I'm calling it done.

To stop time when something wonderful  has touched us as with a match which is lit, and bright, but does not hurt in the common way, but delightfully ~ Mary Oliver, “Snow Geese”

Hob’s alarm beeps insistently, dragging him from the ocean of sleep and washing him onto the shore of waking - blinking, bleary. He grabs for the phone to silence it. Not even out of bed when his thoughts turn to the day’s tasks - marking long overdue, final edits of a journal article and likely several desperate calls from students wanting to earn extra credit. At least he has the solstice party after, as a treat.

Beside him, Morpheus shifts. “Time is it,” he mumbles into the pillow, voice rough, sleep-worn.

“Half six,” Hob says, tugging a shirt over his head. “Gotta get to work.”

“Are you mad? It’s only been three hours.”

As though the words remind his body, Hob yawns, then coughs into his sleeve. “Two hours too long. I’ve got at least three days’ work to pack in before the party.”

Morpheus peers at him. Frowns. “You’re still recovering from your illness. Come back to bed.”

“Don’t fuss; I’m much improved. Nowhere near my death.” Hob pokes him in the ribs, gently. Morpheus obliges with a sound that bears passing resemblance to a chuckle. “Besides the Dean’ll have my job, tenure or no, if I don’t get marks in today.” Hob forces himself to stand before the softness of the sheets and the warmth of Morpheus’s body pull him back. He more than half expects Morpheus to reach for him, attempt to draw him down.

Instead, Morpheus stares rather blankly for a long minute then abruptly turns his back, burrowing deeper into the quilts. Hob sighs. Deeply. He wishes he could say fuck it all and join him, but the fresher flu set him back significantly. No matter what he’d rather, procrastination is right out. Blasted responsibilities.

He consumes an entire pot of coffee which somehow manages to make him edgy without ridding him of tiredness. Cheek propped on fist, he works his way through the stack of final essays and take-home exams and doesn’t allow himself to move from his desk until midday. As he wanders into the kitchen, still trying to decide whether the last student really makes the argument he’s attempting, Hob catches a trailing melody from Morpheus’s studio, the echo of a beat. Something electronic - Paul Van Dyk, maybe? - better for a rave than a Saturday noon, but it’s what Morpheus prefers when he’s painting. Hob smiles; at least one of them is having fun. He pictures Morpheus in his usual pose - scowling at the canvas like it’s personally insulted him, one paintbrush in his hand, another tucked behind his ear, hair wild and paint spattered.  

Hob goes to put his mug into the dishwasher, but finds it still full of clean dishes. Sighing, he adds it to a pile of dirty plates, glasses, and another mug that’s sticky with honey and redolent of mint and chamomile. He frowns. Unusual - Morpheus drinking tea, but Hob supposes the flat is chilly. Luckily the stack doesn’t overbalance and he promises himself he’ll take care of it after the party. Stomach rumbling, he opens the refrigerator to see what leftovers might still be edible and discovers, miracle of all miracles, a sandwich so freshly made the lettuce hasn’t yet wilted. It’s his favorite - brie and green apple - and he instantly forgives Morpheus ignoring the washing up as he takes a huge bite. With fortification, he might just make it to the end of the day.

Finally the third frantic student call is patiently attended to, the last of the marks are uploaded to the university system, the email to his editor is sent into the ether, and Hob feels distinctly lighter. He clatters down stairs to find final party preparations in full swing. Gabriel’s directing Morpheus in proper placement of furniture and decorations, Mako’s checking the sound system for Geordie’s band, and Jamie’s setting up the bar. After two decades of parties, none of them need his instruction, and even his practiced eye can’t find anything out of place. He expects no less, and yet the pride in what they’ve built brings a warmth to his chest. Nothing like mulled wine, holiday songs, good food and friends to pass the longest night and welcome the sun’s return at dawn.

Hob watches as Morpheus, balancing rather precariously on the edge of a chair across the room, attempts to drape a pine garland over the doorway. As he stretches to get the angle just right, his shirt slides up, exposing a pale strip of skin, stark against the black of his jeans. Hob imagines brushing his fingertips over that expanse, making Morpheus shiver under his touch. Suddenly Morpheus flinches, sharp. The chair tips, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment, dropping lightly to the floor. 

“All right?” Hob asks, surprised at the unusual lapse of grace.

Morpheus nods as he passes, heading for the stairs. He doesn’t meet Hob’s gaze. 

Hob turns to follow, but his phone rings. Jilly’s car’s broken down, can someone give her a ride? Never one to look askance at a fortunate turn of events, he gives her Geordie’s number. There’s plenty of room in the band’s van, they’re coming from the same end of town - and if Geordie has been looking for an excuse to talk to her for weeks, well that’s just a lucky coincidence.

“Meddling, are we?” Jamie laughs at Hob’s guilty startle.

He pulls an affronted expression. “I’d never. Nudge, maybe. Hint. A bit. Never meddle.”

Jamie raises an eyebrow. 

Mako tosses a towel at him. “Get back to work and quit giving him shit. After all, worked with us, didn’t it?” 

“Maybe.” But the hint of a smile curls Jamie’s lips and he follows Mako’s orders. “Better get yourself presentable, boss. You know Lena and Emily are gonna be here any minute.” 

Hob looks down, realizing he hasn’t yet changed out of his ancient sweatshirt, then over at the clock above the bar. “Bollocks. Is it possible to be late to your own party?” “For you? Absolutely.” 

“Remind me again why I hired you?”

“Because I make the filthiest martinis.” Jamie grins wolfishly as he tips gin and vermouth into a shaker.

Mako rolls his eyes. “Filthy something anyway.”

“Pot, kettle.” 

Their good-natured bickering follows Hob upstairs where he finds Morpheus in his favorite spot, curled on the window seat. Party or no, he’s wearing his usual grey t-shirt and black jeans. In defiance of the season, his feet are bare. 

“It is beginning to snow,” Morpheus says, not looking away from the gathering dusk where fat flakes of snow are, indeed, swirling down and dusting the grass and trees.

Hob considers whether suggesting Morpheus put on something warmer would make him sound like a nagging mum. Probably would do. “It’s said to bring luck, if the first snowfall of the year happens on the solstice,” he says instead, forcing himself to pay attention to the puzzle of his own attire. He needs something appropriate to the party, but comfortable.

“Might the weather keep your friends from attending the festivities?” Morpheus’s expression is unreadable in the blurry reflection of the window, but the wistfulness of his tone is clear and it takes Hob aback. While Morpheus hasn’t whinged about the annual solstice gathering, and has, point of fact, encouraged Hob to continue the tradition, he has also tended to be solitary since he … retired. Hob hadn’t imagined he would be looking forward to a gathering, no matter the occasion. 

“Not likely. The heavy snow isn’t supposed to come until later tomorrow, and it takes more than a few centimeters to make Lena miss a party. There’ll be plenty of time for people to sober up in the morning and make their way home before the storm really hits.” He doesn’t acknowledge that Morpheus has named them Hob’s friends, as though they are not Morpheus’s as well, but he notes the fact.

“Good. I-I’ve never-” Morpheus’s voice catches on a hitching breath and he curls into himself, pinching a set of sneezes into silence. It takes him a second to recover. “Bless you. Never…?” Hob prompts, when he seems to be lost in thought.

Morpheus blinks back to himself. “N-never -” He sniffles, presses a curled finger under his nose, rubs gently. “- been to a party.” He manages to finish in a rush, then crumples again. “Httnxxt! N’xxt!  Hih-N’xxtch!” He shivers, gooseflesh rising along his arms.

“Bless you. All right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just. A passing chill.” 

Unable to resist, Hob pulls a flannel shirt from his wardrobe and holds it out. “I know, I know. It’s got long sleeves and color and everything. But as you may have heard, the weather outside is frightful and this will keep you warm.”

Morpheus heaves a long suffering sigh, then slides the shirt on anyway. The blue is almost exactly the same shade as his eyes, rich and deep as the Aegean Sea. 

“I find it extremely hard to believe that the King of All Night’s Dreaming has never gone to a party,” Hob says. He finally decides on his most ridiculous ugly Christmas jumper -  bright red, covered with black cats in Santa hats - a gift from an American student years ago. 

Morpheus glares at him through watery eyes. “Not one I wished to attend.”

“Not even in the Fey realms?” 

“You will not tempt me to speak a word against the Fey,” Morpheus says archly, then sniffles again, marring the hauteur.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Morpheus nods, but his focus has shifted. “I am…” He’s interrupted by a sneeze, then a second and third tumble after, harsh even muffled in his sleeve. “Ht’Isshuh! Hih-Issshh-isshue!” He takes the tissue Hob offers. “I am, perhaps, coming down with something,” he admits ruefully.

“Perhaps,” Hob echoes, teasing. “A foregone conclusion, considering my state these last days.” He digs through the bottom of the wardrobe. He’s sure there’s a belt in there somewhere. And at least one matching pair of socks.  

“I’m sorry. I had been. Hoping. To attend a party simply as a guest. And to better acquaint myself with those who are important to you.” Morpheus clears his throat, then coughs.

Hob pauses and looks up from his search, startled. “You’re sorry,” he asks, the apology the first thing his brain latches on to. Rare, even now, for Morpheus to apologize for a small matter.

Morpheus shrugs, gaze turned out the window again. “I’ve been telling myself I am not ill, but I can no longer deny it. Promise you’ll tell me stories of the night come morning?”

“Are you feeling that badly? To miss it?” Though Hob had spent a day in bed himself, that was mostly at Morpheus’s insistence. He’d barely had a fever and was fine to muddle through. But Morpheus had badgered him into resting after the intensity of the semester, playing into his own procrastination tendencies too well. 

He brushes a hand over Morpheus’s forehead, then his cheeks. He’s still cool to the touch, though now that Hob’s slowed down enough to pay attention, he notices the shadows pooled under blue eyes, the slight pinch between brows that indicates headache, visible even in the window reflection, remembers the tea mug, the morning distance. Morpheus must have realized he was getting sick even then and hoped to stave it off.

“I don’t wish anyone else to catch this.”

“Just don’t snog other people and they won’t.” 

Morpheus finally turns to face him and glowers. “I would never.”

“I know you wouldn’t. Come on, duck.” Hob shifts, leaning Dream against his side and carding gentle fingers through his ever-messy hair. “Everyone else has already had the crud. Even Jamie, and he never gets sick.”

“Truly?” Morpheus sighs, hope warring with suspicion in his voice. 

Hob does his best impression of innocence. “Would I lie to you?” “Without a doubt, if it gets you what you want.”

“What I want is you. It really is okay.” He leans down, presses a kiss to Morpheus’s temple. “And Mei isn’t coming, thank all that’s holy. She’s the only one who might be bothered.” “You dislike her.” Morpheus says slowly, as though he’s piecing together a puzzle. “It cannot be simply her subject.” Hob shakes his head. “I could forgive her teaching Shakespeare. I could even forgive her enjoying it. But she was unkind to you.” More than once, he doesn’t add. 

“A minor incident,” Morpheus argues, but a faint flush colors his cheeks and when they join the party, he stays close to Hob’s side far longer than usual before retreating to a chair in an out of the way corner, beside the hearth. 

With ease born of long practice, Hob threads his way through the pub, greeting the guests and chatting easily with each, while keeping a sliver of his focus on Morpheus. At first he sits alone, an island in the flow of the crowd. To the untrained eye, he seems distant, uninterested, his face impassive, body carefully rigid. Behind the mask, Hob knows, Morpheus is following the currents of conversations surrounding him. Technically no longer Prince of Stories, they still seem to nourish him.

Hob is all the way across the pub when he catches sight of Lena and Emily pulling chairs up to join Morpheus. Lena’s got a look in her eye that bodes ill for Hob - she knows too many embarrassing stories and never hesitates to share. Before he can intercept them, he’s pulled into a heated debate over whether Irish whiskey or Scotch is superior. By the time he manages to extricate himself, it’s clear that they’ve made themselves comfortable. Not surprising, but what does surprise him is that Morpheus actually seems to be equally comfortable with them. For the first time his body is at ease as he listens intently to something Lena’s saying.

“And that’s why he isn’t allowed to… Oh, oops,” she interrupts herself as Hob comes in earshot, but she doesn’t look even the slightest bit embarrassed. 

“Hello Hob.” A hint of mirth quirks Morpheus’s lips.

Hob directs an exaggerated frown at Lena. “You’d better not be telling him about the pub in Dublin.”

“She wasn’t, but now she must,” Morpheus says, his voice little more than a rasp. His breath catches. Stutters. “Ex-excuse me,” he manages to say, turning away hastily. “Hih…ht’Issh! Issh! Hih-Isssh!”

Lena and Emily chorus blessings and Hob bites his tongue on the urge to ask how he’s feeling; he’d just brush off Hob’s concern, say it’s nothing. An oily feeling of disquiet curls into Hob’s belly anyway. He tells himself firmly to ignore it. “Dammit, Lena, that means I’ll have to tell him about what got us banished from Trinity’s library and I’m not nearly drunk enough for that.”

“The night is young,” Lena says. ”Go get yourself another drink. It’s time for your boyfriend to get to know the real you.”

Morpheus catches his gaze. “I could use a drink as well.”

Hob tosses up his hands in defeat. “All right, all right. Just leave me with a scrap of reputation, yeah?” 

“I make no promises,” Lena says and her grin is wicked. Even as he walks away, Hob is certain he hears Morpheus chuckling under his breath.

“Good turnout,” Jamie says when Hob joins him behind the bar. He’s right - somewhere above fifty people, professors and students mingling with a few of the pub’s regulars. Someone’s pushed tables aside and a few brave (and inebriated) souls are dancing.  Others play cards or darts, and he’s pretty sure he can make out a couple snogging in a darker corner. There’s plenty of food, the plates and cutlery seem well stocked, the music isn’t loud enough to keep people from talking. Everything is in order. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. But maybe he should make another circuit of the pub, just to be certain…

“Gabriel’s got it under control, boss. And if anyone starts anything, Mako will handle it. Take the night off for once.”

Hob winces. “Am I that obvious?”

“Let’s just say best you avoid the poker table. Or, actually, fancy a game?” 

“Sod off; you’re on duty,” Hob says, laughing. 

“And so’s Gabe. Enjoy the party. The company.” He looks meaningfully toward the little group by the hearth.

“I will. I am.” It’s true, he realizes. Emily leans forward, gesturing emphatically, managing to interrupt Lena and take the story over herself. Not upset in the least, Lena’s expression is a little proud of her girlfriend’s audacity, and more than a little fond. Morpheus presses a hand over his mouth as he laughs, but even muffled, the abrupt wounded goose honk of it startles both Lena and Emily into giggles as well. His eyes shine, simply reflected firelight. No longer magic and yet… still his Stranger. Once lost, now found. His Friend, who has known him over so many long years, and who he is finally getting to know as well.

Morpheus straightens, moves slightly away from the others. Hob wonders if he’s offended - or hurt - by their reaction. But then he grabs a napkin from the table and his laughter disintegrates into coughing. 

“Poor bloke’s been sick a lot this winter. Better take one of these for him,” Jamie says, handing Hob two steaming mugs of mulled wine. “Tell him feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. I’ll tell him.” Hob forces himself to smile, but the uncomfortable disquiet has returned. He hadn’t paid close attention, but now that Jamie’s pointed it out, he can’t ignore it. Morpheus has been ill on and off since the beginning of the school year. There are a thousand reasons for it - everyone gets sick with new germs and uni is a veritable petri dish; Morpheus hasn’t even had a body for that long, of course it would be vulnerable. But what if it’s worse? He blinks and in the darkness a flash of a body laid out on marble, covered with a sheer cloth and yet he knows who it was… he knows.

“There’s mulled wine? And you didn’t bring us any? Rude,” Lena says.

“Sorry, only two hands,” Hob hands one to Morpheus, then takes a deep drink of his own.  

“Oh, I love this song - dance?” Emily asks as Geordie and the band begin a reel. To Hob’s relief Lena agrees. She takes Emily’s arm and they whirl into the knot of dancers. Morpheus watches them go, still smiling - but the light of the fire casts the angles of his face into strange, deep shadows and Hob drinks again.

“Robert.” Though it’s still rough, Morpheus’s voice is somewhat stronger. There’s a question in it that Hob doesn’t want to answer.

He keeps his eyes on his mug. “Jamie says he hopes you feel better soon.”

“Hob.”

“Do you want to dance, too? I’m not great, but once I finish this drink…” he takes another, longer swallow. “Enough,” Morpheus says, the command no less forceful for coming through a human throat. 

Hob finally looks down to find Morpheus gazing up at him with eyes that no longer swirl with endless constellations, but are still deeper than Hob can fathom. He releases the mug and Morpheus takes his hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the inside of Hob’s wrist.

“What has disturbed you?” 

“I… The longest night is not long enough.” 

“No?”

Hob shakes his head. He always wants more time.

Morpheus draws him down, puts an arm around him, rests his head on Hob’s shoulder. “I believe it is true - the first snowfall on Yule is indeed fortunate.”

“Why,” Hob asks into his hair. 

“Because I have good drink. Good music. Good friends. And you. It is enough.” He presses his lips to Hob’s wrist and warmth flows through the contact, through Hob’s whole body until it feels like he glows bright as the flames.

“I suppose it is.”

[theprinceandagcd]

but daddy, you love him

aka 16k of a Claremont-Diaz kid playing matchmaker for her dad and his coworker

Rated M, 16.4k words read it on a3

Summary:

Alex peers up at Henry’s face, the familiar tenseness in his jaw and mildly disinterested eyes nowhere to be seen. Instead, Henry’s expression is open and borderline delighted, like Brie used an extra strong shot of sorcery to draw Henry in and melt the ice that he usually stays locked behind.

Suddenly, Alex’s vague crush on an unapproachable coworker feels realer, all because he’s standing there and looking at Alex’s daughter like she hung the fucking moon. He’s treating the most important person in Alex’s life—his entire goddamn heart—as if she truly matters to him, giving her fist bumps and smiling at her and telling her she’s beautiful like her dad.

It’s doing weird things to Alex’s chest and making his palms sweat even in the air conditioned office, and he can’t decide if he’s okay with that development or if he wants to stick his head in Brie’s Easy-Bake oven. --- or, the matchmaker kidfic :)

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 72- I Win (All Hell Breaks Loose)

Chapter Summary: All hell breaks loose as Morgan shocks the world when she watches Ambrose and Rollins go at it at SummerSlam.

Words: 5,000+

Author's Note: Relax....

---------

Backstage as Melanie and Milena walked together, the duo received a standing ovation from everyone which got them emotional. Their rivalry was over. And now those two were headed to different storylines after tonight. It was bittersweet as they were praised for their hard work despite the time cut on the match.

After numerous conversations with staff and their peers, Brie rushed over to them.

"Oh my God! You two scared the crap out of me, during that whole match!" Brie said to them. "How are you two still standing!?"

Melanie laughed and smiled at Milena. "We did good. If you excuse me, I seriously need a doctor to get rid of all these crazy thumbtacks. Thanks Milena."

"No problem!" Milena replied with a giggle.

"Grapes, that match was awesome." Randy hugged her.

"OW! OW!" She yelled.

"Aw crap! Sorry!" He pulled away and backed up, but showed a half smile when he saw her laughing.

"Joking! The look on your face was priceless. I'm okay. The pain isn't that bad anymore. And thanks."

"I hate it when you do that."

"I love you too, buddy!" She gave him a pat on the back and began walking around backstage, to the trainer's room.

Everywhere she went, her and Milena would receive compliments and praises for the match, despite how short it was. It made them smile at how much respect they were earning from the locker room.

SummerSlam continued to go off with a great start with WWE's favorite show off winning the intercontinental championship. Then they showed Paige going up against AJ for the Diva's Championship. Melanie watched as AJ started pulling Paige's hair out, from the diva's locker room.

She laughed when she heard Paige yell "What the hell!?"

Melanie had on skinny jeans, boots, and a Dean Ambrose Unstable shirt that was cropped and showed her right shoulder, along with her fingerless gloves. Luckily all the thumbtacks she had been pulled out and she took a shower to wash off the blood while placing ointment on her wounds. As she looked at the TV again, she saw that Paige won the championship again, and on her 22nd birthday.

She headed out of the locker room to meet up with Jon at the gorilla while Rusev had his match against Jack. She saw her Lunatic already in his wrestling attire, and a Dean Ambrose themed hoodie, checking himself out in a mirror.

"And...I look like crap." He rasped out.

"Haha! You look cute." She embraced him.

"Saw your match. Badass. Those thumbtacks made me think about Christina."

"I thought about her, too."

"You did great out there. I'm proud of you." He smiled at her.

"Thank you." She returned the smile and kissed him softly. "Now lemme do something about this." She tried to do something with his hair.

"It's already ruined; you're making it worse!"

"Aye! I'm making it better!"

"Lies..."

"Get a room!" Colby chuckled as he stood by them, with his briefcase.

"Shut up, Colby." Jon and Melanie simultaneously say.

-------

For one final Rosa segment, Rosa was getting treated in the trainer's room, clearly exhausted and defeated. The crowd cheered when Triple H came into the room. Triple H wasn't too pleased with her as he eyed her down, shaking his head.

"You're out," he declared, officially kicking her out of everything associated with The Authority.

Shocked at the sudden news, Rosa began to freak out as she begged him while he left the room. "W—wait! Wait, Hunter, please!"

As the screen transitioned back to the ring, the Lumberjacks surrounded the ring, and they were Big E, Bo Dallas, Cesaro, Curtis Axel, Ryback, Damien Sandow, Luke & Erick, Fandango, Goldust & Stardust, Heath, Jimmy & Jey, Kofi, RVD, Sin Cara, and Titus.

"Well, it looks like that is the last of Rosa Mendes associating herself with The Authority," Cole said as he shook his head.

"She couldn't get the job done. Morgan prevailed. The Authority saw her as a weak link. Gotta get rid of the dead weight," JBL bluntly said.

"Almost every one of these men were at sometime victims of the former Shield." Cole informed as the camera showed all of the lumberjacks.

"I'm not sure I want to be surrounded by the ring, with 20 people who don't like me." JBL stated as Seth's theme came on with him walking out with his briefcase.

"The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is the Lumberjack match! Introducing first, from Davenport, Iowa, weighing 217 pounds, Mister Money in The Bank, Seth Rollins!" Lilian announced.

Cole starts acknowledging some celebrities in the crowd, while Seth raises up his briefcase on the top rope, before jumping off. Dean's theme comes on, to a big pop.

"And his opponent, being accompanied by Morgan Lopez, from Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing in at 225 pounds, Dean Ambrose!" Lilian announced.

"The fact that Morgan is still walking around with her head up high after the most insane opening women's match is beyond me. She had thumbtacks all over her body earlier tonight and she is good as new. Talk about strength," King informed.

"Shades of Chyna flowing through her veins," Cole praised.

Morgan seriously did not want to see these two kill each other but it had to be done. Dean needed closure and wanted to get even with Seth, after what he did, these past months. And having a strong feeling Kane or even Triple H was going to come out and interrupt the match, made her blood boil. She just had to come out here and keep a close eye.

"Why is she here? She has no business out here!" JBL shouted as the couple held hands and walked down the ramp.

"Actually, she does have business out here. She's just as involved in this situation, as Dean. And Morgan isn't stupid. She knows The Authority is going to try something. So, why not be at ringside to keep a close eye." King countered.

"Here we go guys, this has been building, and building for months," Cole said.

Dean takes off his jacket and gives it to Morgan. The couple stop at the end of the ramp and she gives him a sweet kiss on the lips, before walking around ringside, placing his jacket near the timekeeper's area.

Ambrose gets in the ring and has a stare down with Rollins. Meanwhile, all the lumberjacks move out of Morgan's way, still acknowledging the match she just had. The men knew not to even think about putting their hands on her.

If there was one thing that Morgan was sure of, is that as soon as that bell rings, all hell was going to break loose. And boy was she ever right.

'Ding Ding Ding'

The Outspoken Diva heard the bell ring as she stood by, near the time keeper's area, leaning on the barricade.

"And here we go!" Cole shouted as Ambrose & Rollins started brawling back and forth. "These former best friends, buddies who grew up in this industry, together, now going after one another."

Dean catches Seth with an elbow, dropping him down.

"This may turn into a slug fest inside and outside the ring," King said. "I wonder what's going through the mind of Morgan as she watches these two go at it."

"Would you stop worrying about her? She's fine." JBL replied.

Dean starts stomping away at Seth, seated in a corner. He tosses Seth across the ring as Seth rolls over to the edge. Stardust, Goldust, and Titus shove him back instead, making Morgan laugh.

"Come on!" Seth shouted at the Lumberjacks.

He turns around to get blasted back down by Dean. Moments later, he clotheslines Seth out of the ring, and he gets shoved back inside by the Lumberjacks.

"So, far guys, Ambrose has gotta be liking this stipulation that he picked," Cole said as Dean stomped on Seth's stomach, making him yell out in pain. "Ambrose has gotta be loving this."

"This is exactly what Dean Ambrose wanted. Seth Rollins, in the ring, where he can get his hands on him. No place for Seth Rollins to go—oh the nose!" King shouted as he trapped Seth in a submission and gripped his nose back, making him yell out in pain.

Morgan looks on with an amused facial expression. This was priceless.

"Ambrose is gonna punish Rollins. He's gonna torture Rollins." Cole guaranteed.

Dean gives Seth a chop to the chest, as the crowd 'Woos' in response. He drags Seth's face into the ropes but gets kicked in the midsection and tossed out the ring.

"He built Dean Ambrose. Ambrose should thank him." JBL stated.

"Wait a minute, did you just say he built Dean Ambrose?" Cole asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, and now Ambrose tossed out." Cole looked on but then Dean punched Fandango and Damien before sliding back in the ring, unloading on Seth. "And Ambrose is not gonna go in quietly. That's one way to go about it. Now Ambrose taking down Rollins."

Seth manages to hit him with a reverse STO into the turnbuckle, gaining the upper hand. Seth runs to the ropes and dropkicks Ambrose out of the ring. Still holding a grudge, Bo Dallas, Fandango, and Damien begin stomping down on Dean.

"Oh and look out. The Lumberjacks." Cole pointed out.

"Aye! The heck are you doing!?" Morgan shouted as the heel Lumberjacks continued to beat down Ambrose.

The face Lumberjacks try to break it up while Dean gets thrown back into the ring. Seth gets on top of Ambrose and continues pummeling him down with punches.

"Rollins called Dean Ambrose a hellcat with rabies, and a bipolar nutjob." Cole quoted.

"I dunno if he has rabies but everything else is true." JBL agreed.

Seth hits Dean with a knee to the face, as he was laid out, on the mat, and goes for a pin.

"1!" The referee counted but Dean managed to kick out.

Dean begins fighting back with punches but gets irish whipped into a corner. Seth runs to attack but gets kicked back. Dean gets on the top rope, with his back to Rollins. Rollins takes advantage and catches Ambrose in the tree of woe. This catches Morgan's attention and she starts to look worried.

"Déjà vu. We saw Morgan in this position, earlier tonight." Cole recalled as Seth stomped away on Dean and then he fell off, clenching his stomach.

Seth puts Dean in an arm bar while the crowd begins to clap, to motivate him. Ambrose begins gaining more momentum and tries to go for a crossbody but Seth moves out the way. Dean gets on the apron and kicks Luke away, who was near him. Rollins tries to go for a suplex but Dean counters and hits Rollins with the suplex instead, onto the Lumberjacks.

"Whoa!" King shouted as Seth slammed his head on the announce table.

"Rollins! And Ambrose!" Cole shouted as the crowd cheered.

"Man, oh man!"

"Wow! Taking out the Lumberjacks. And this is a dangerous situation for both Rollins and Ambrose, out here." Cole said as the two continued fighting at ringside.

"As I feared." Morgan looked on, amused at the two.

She moves out of harms way as all the Lumberjacks get involved, trying to break the two up. As soon as they do, Dean jumps on top of Rollins and the group holding him back.

"And now Ambrose startin' to brawl. Ambrose brawling out here with the Lumberjacks, trying to get to Seth Rollins." Cole looked on as the Lumberjacks desperately tried to break them up.

"This is melee!" King exclaimed.

Dean and Seth finally get separated but start punching and elbowing the Lumberjacks away from them. Seth runs over to Dean but gets tossed up in the air, over the barricade as he holds his knee.

"Rollins sent over to the WWE fans!" Cole shouted.

Dean tries to get over the barricade but gets Ryback's arms wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him back, along with the other Lumberjacks.

"Just let them fight! It's no use." Morgan mentioned.

The crowd boos once Ambrose gets thrown back into the ring.

"Lumberjacks finally doing their job," JBL said.

"Ambrose now taking out more Lumberjacks!" Cole shouted as he hit them with a suicide dive. Dean got on top of the announce table. "Look—a—look at this! Look at it! Ambrose! Ambrose! Ambrose!"

"Look out!" King shouted in a high pitched voice as he jumped on top of Rollins, in the crowd, taking out Kofi and Bo as well.

"That's my lunatic." Morgan grinned and looked on, entertained.

The crowd cheers as Dean tosses Bo and Kofi back at ringside and goes right after Rollins. Rollins starts running away, through the crowd.

"He's a wild one, ain't he?" RVD grinned at her as the Outspoken Diva nodded in response and chuckled.

"Rollins is trying to escape in the Staples Center but Ambrose is huntin' him down!" Cole looked on while Dean hit Seth from behind.

"I love you, Dean! You're the best, Dean!" A male fan shouted.

Ambrose continues pummeling Seth through the crowd as they go up the steps.

"These Lumberjacks are at ringside, watching the fight!" JBL scolded.

While the two fight in the crowd, the crowd boos loudly when Kane walks out.

"Oh great..." Morgan retorted and rolled her eyes.

This was exactly why she came out here. She knew someone was going to come out and try to ruin the match.

Kane started yelling at the Lumberjacks. "Get them back in the ring! Do your job!"

Dean prepares for the dirty deeds in the crowd until some of the Lumberjacks go and separate the two, earning more boos. The Lumberjacks drag Dean back to the ring, while Rollins continues to escape. He punches Sin Cara and hits his head on the railing.

"Seth's leaving! Seth's leaving!" JBL shouted.

"Seth Rollins has had enough!" Cole said. "I think Rollins is taking off, guys."

"I don't blame him." King replied.

Seth sees the Usos, Big E, and Stardust in front of him. He tries to reason with them but then attempts to jump over them. He fails as he gets caught as the crowd cheers.

"Now they're doing their job!" King added.

"Seth Rollins gonna be dragged back down to the ring, by the Lumberjacks," Cole said.

Morgan starts cracking up as Rollins desperately tries to escape but gets lifted up in the air by the Lumberjacks, Adam Rose style.

"There you go, guys! Get him back in the ring!" JBL shouted.

Dean climbs on the top rope, as the crowd cheers loudly with anticipation.

"Ambrose!" Cole shouted as he leaped on top of Seth and all the Lumberjacks.

Dean sits up and widens his eyes, revealing a crazed look. Kane doesn't look too happy, as he begins to look worried.

"Kane's gonna blow! This is incredible!" Cole said in amazement.

Dean tosses Seth back in the ring as the crowd chants 'This is awesome!'.

Seth gets on his knees, looking groggy as Ambrose makes gun sign and shoots it to the back of Rollins' head.

"Ambrose gonna finish him off here! He's been waiting on this!" JBL said as Dean positioned Seth for the Dirty Deeds.

Seth counters and pushes him away. He kicks him from behind, making Dean lean back, between the ropes to come back with a vicious clothesline.

"Yeah!" Morgan cheered with the crowd.

"Ambrose explodes off the ropes!" Cole shouted.

"Ahh!" King screamed in a high pitched voice as Dean went for the pin.

"1!"

"2!"

"Kick out by Rollins!" Cole said with excitement.

Things were really starting to pick up as Kane looks relieved. Ambrose starts to show a cheeky grin.

"What a blast!" King said happily.

Dean begins to show a blank look before getting on his knees, and turning his attention to Rollins. Seth begins gripping his grey tank top, trying to get up. Ambrose stands up and grabs Seth's hair.

"I love you, brother." He kissed his head and ran to the ropes.

He lays Seth out with the curb stomp, making everyone 'Oh!'

Morgan puts her hands over her mouth in shock.

"Curb stomp!" Cole shouted as Dean started to get emotional. "That's Rollins' move!"

"He hit him with his own finish!" JBL shouted.

"Here's the cover and now wait a minute!" Cole shouted as Kane broke up the pin. "Kane!"

"Are you kidding me!?" Morgan shouted as the crowd booed.

They start to cheer once Goldust gets in the ring and gets in his face.

"Hey! What are you doing!? What are you doing, man!" Goldust shouted but Kane hit him in the face.

And that's when all the Lumberjacks get in the ring and start fighting, as Kane gets out of harms way. The crowd cheers loudly as the big brawl breaks out. Kane returns to ringside, adjusting his tie. Morgan glares at him and starts heading his way, shaking her head. It was not going to be like this. Not this way.

"And now Morgan!" Cole shouted as the crowd cheered.

"Hey, asshole!" She shouted.

Kane turns around only to get kicked in the groin. Face scrunched up in pain, he falls down.

"That's what you get!" She shouted and turned her attention back to the ring.

"Woo hoo! Low blow!" King cheered and turned his attention back to the ring. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute, look out!" He shouted as some of the Lumberjacks got thrown out of the ring. "What in the world!? What is happening here?"

"Kane was supposed to control things, and he set this thing into this!" Cole replied.

"Not to mention getting low blowed in the process," JBL recalled.

Dean and the Wyatts were the last ones in the ring. Luke tries to go after the Lunatic but gets tossed out the ring. Erick tries to clothesline him but gets clotheslined instead. Meanwhile, Seth manages to snatch his briefcase while Dean was distracted by the Wyatts. Morgan decides to take action by stepping on top of the apron, yanking the briefcase out of his hands, as the crowd cheers.

"The hell are you doing!?" Seth shouted.

"Look at Morgan!" Cole shouted.

"She has no business doing that!" JBL exclaimed.

"She's looking out for Dean! Seth was about to cheat! She had every right to do that!" King retorted to JBL.

"Give me my briefcase!" Seth got in her face.

The Outspoken Diva glared at him. "Forget it! You think you're gonna win, like that!? Hell no!" She turned around, about to jump off, but got yanked back, by her hair as she yelled out in shock.

"Oh, come on! Get off of her!" King shouted as she got forced into the ring, by Rollins.

"You think you are gonna ruin this for me!?" Seth shouted, backing her up into the corner.

"Seth! Stop it! Get off!" She shouted back.

"Rollins is putting her in her place! She shouldn't have messed with his briefcase." JBL shrugged.

"He doesn't have to do this! Just leave her alone, Seth!" King exclaimed, sounding concerned for Morgan's safety.

Seth can be dangerous when he wants to be. And having Morgan ruin his chance of stealing a win, made him irate.

"Always in the way!" He growled as she struggled to escape his grip.

"Enough!" She shouted back.

"This is uncalled for! Let her go!" King demanded.

"Always in the damn way! Just stay in your place!" He struck her in the face, making her fall down as the crowd looked on in surprise.

"Oh my God, is Morgan okay!?" Cole said with worry.

Morgan holds her face and rolls over to the apron. Seth kicks his briefcase over to its original spot in the corner and continues seething, trying to cool down after being so angry with the Outspoken Diva.

"Stay out of my business!" He shouted and ran his gloved hands through his hair.

"This is what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong." JBL scolded as Morgan held the side of her face.

"How can you say that? Morgan saw that something was wrong, and tried to stop it." King exclaimed, getting fired up at JBL criticizing Morgan's actions.

"It was a stupid move."

"I wish you'd shut up. If you saw things in Morgan's point of view, you would have done the same thing. So, shut your trap."

Turning around after dealing with the Wyatts, Dean sees Morgan laid out, face first, holding her face in pain. Seeing red, Ambrose goes berserk and starts attacking Rollins, viciously unloading on him with punches.

"And now Dean Ambrose! Dean Ambrose getting fired up!" Cole shouted in anticipation as the crowd gave him a big pop.

Dean drops Rollins with DDT as the crowd gets hyped up. He waits for Rollins to get up, but then Kane gets on the ropes to distract the referee. Rollins rolls over to the corner, diagonal from where Morgan was recovering at the bottom turnbuckle. Ambrose starts yelling at Kane, while standing in the middle of the ring, between his former teammates.

"Can somebody get Kane out of here so he can stop distracting Ambrose? Ambrose had this match won!" King exclaimed.

"Lesson learned. You shouldn't get distracted in a match like this. This is chaos! What kind of Lumberjack match is this? First Rollins and Ambrose fight outside the ring, and into the crowd! Then Kane has to try to restore order, but caused a brawl with all the Lumberjacks. And now Morgan gets involved and gets hit in the face, for heaven's sake!" JBL rambled on. "And she's not even in the damn match! What is going on!?"

While Jerry and JBL continue to argue, Morgan begins standing up. Dean starts walking up to Rollins, who is still in the corner.

"And now Ambrose looks to finish Seth Rollins off," Cole said. "This may be it!"

"I think you're right!" King said in a high pitched voice.

Morgan narrows her eyes across the ring and walks up to Dean from behind. She drops down to her knees and gives him a low blow as the commotion from the crowd causes the arena to get loud at the sudden turn of events.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! What the hell!?" Cole shouted as the crowd got loud with cheers and boos.

Dean's face expression shows pain and discomfort as he drops to his knees, falling down, face first. The Outspoken Diva rises up and shoots Ambrose a blank look while Rollins looks on in shock. The Architect widens his eyes, processing what just happened in front of him.

"Oh my God! Morgan, what the hell are you doing!?" King screamed as she ran a hand through her hair.

"The hell is going on!?" JBL exclaimed.

"What about her face!?" King shouted as the crowd chanted 'Holy shit!'

Celeste tweets 'WHAT THE HELL!? What are you doing WWEMorgan101!?'

"Never trust a woman!" JBL stated.

Morgan looks at her hand and takes her ring off her ring finger. She examines it before putting it on her right index finger instead, showing power and Authority, instead of love.

"What is going on!?" King exclaimed. "And was that ring what I think it was!?"

Seth begins to grin, revealing that he was faking his shocked look and continues to watch on.

"L­—look at Rollins, grinning. He knew this was going to happen?!" Cole exclaimed. "Don't tell me Morgan just joined The Authority!"

"But he punched her in the face," JBL recalled.

"Morgan doesn't seemed to be hurt. I think they faked it."

"What are you doing!?" Fans shouted. "Why!? Why!?"

"I­—I can't believe Morgan just...she just low blowed Dean! Her boyfriend! Why? Why help Seth Rollins?" King asked, looking startled.

Ambrose starts to get on his hands and knees, while Morgan continues to stare at how helpless he looked. Seth grabs Ambrose and gives him to Morgan, putting him in the backfire position for her.

"W—­wait a minute! Wait! Morgan! Don't do it! It's not too late to reconsider! Don't do it!" King shouted.

"After what she just did? There's no turning back, now! This is a done deal!" JBL said as the crowd gave off mixed reactions.

"Oh no. You've gotta be kiddin' me!" Cole shouted as she slammed Ambrose down hard with the backfire.

Dean grunts as she sits down, next to his laid out body. Morgan begins to look uncharacteristically relaxed after what she's done. She glances at Dean and shakes her head, smirking as she gets helped up by Rollins.

"I don't believe this..." Cole grumbled.

The crowd boos as Seth and Morgan grin at each other and embrace.

"Morgan, what are you doing!? This isn't you!" King said in disbelief.

"Maybe this is the real Morgan," JBL replied.

"Man...the look on the face of Morgan! No regret. No remorse."

"I don't understand. What did we just see?!" Cole asked as the crowd chanted loudly, 'You sold out!'

Dean, who is struggling to get up, manages to grab Morgan's left boot, for support. With one of Rollins' arms around her waist, as she holds onto him, she and Seth look down at the beaten up Lunatic.

After getting released by Rollins, she kneels and lifts up Dean's chin. She roughly shoves his face away and gets up to hit him with a sickening heel kick to the face. The crowd 'Ohs' and continues to look shocked. She turned all those smiles into frowns after what she did. And there was not a sign of regret on her face.

She tosses Seth his briefcase and leans her back against the corner, crossing her arms. Dean begins to get back on his hands and knees, turning his head to his ex. She slowly shoots him a wicked smirk as he clenches his fists. Ambrose shot her a dangerous glare, but in his eyes, they showed the look of distress. Not phased by his look, she continued to look indifferent as she watched Seth lay him out with his briefcase.

"Rollins with the briefcase to the face!" Cole shouted as Kane let the referee go, and he started to count. "No! Not like this! Not this way!"

"1!"

"2!"

"3!"

"And Rollins takes advantage of this disarray out here,"

"Here is your winner! Seth Rollins!" Lilian announced.

"Guys, that was more action than my eyes could follow. I can't even speak after what Morgan just did." King said as they went to the highlights of the match.

"The Architect of The Shield, Seth Rollins, just beat Dean Ambrose." JBL proudly announced as Morgan helped Rollins up.

"What a disappointing night for Dean Ambrose," Cole added.

"For sure. He just lost Morgan. Got low blowed and hit with a backfire, and lost the match." JBL replied as Seth lifted up Morgan's chin and examined her face, amused that they fooled everyone. "She's not even hurt. I wonder how long these two planned this."

"I am even more excited for RAW, tomorrow. I cannot wait to hear Morgan's explanation for her actions." Cole said as Seth laughed and raised up his briefcase with Morgan.

"Wait a minute, look who it is." Cole pointed out as Triple H walked down the ramp, with a huge grin on his face.

He gets in the ring and embraces Morgan as the crowd boos, loudly. "For crying out loud...After all that she's done to The Authority? Why is she with Triple H and Seth Rollins?" King asked.

"Morgan has sold her soul to The Authority. I...I can't wrap my head around that." Cole murmured.

Triple H raises her hand and smirks at the crowd.

"I win. I finally got her." He proudly said.

"Triple H saying he won, he finally got Morgan. The question that is on everyone's mind, is how did The Authority get into the mind of the Outspoken Diva? After all, that she's done to fight against them? I just can't believe this is happening." Cole said.

Morgan, Seth and Triple H exit the ring. Triple H goes backstage after patting the two on the back. Morgan and Seth head up to stand in the middle of the ramp.

Rollins wraps his arms around her waist from behind, and rests his chin on her shoulder, laughing at Ambrose. Dean manages to get up on his knees, looking at his ex with sorrow and shock.

The shocking events played back in his mind.

She hit him with a low blow.

She hit him with the backfire.

And now she aligned herself with The Authority. With Seth. It was a slap in the face to the WWE Universe. And a dagger to his heart.

Morgan shrugs at Ambrose, giving him another smirk. It was absolutely hilarious to her, seeing the shocked crowd reactions and Dean's face. She could have sworn she saw his eyes getting watery.

"Hah, hah, hah. She's mine, Ambrose. She's where she belongs. Dark side called her home." Seth taunted, kissing her on the cheek.

"This has to be one of the most shocking scenes we've ever seen in WWE history. I can't..." Cole trailed off.

Fans tweet:

'Oh they pulled the trigger?! I didn't think they were gonna do it!'

'BOLD! They teased it but I didn't think they'd actually do it!'

'What the fuck they made her heel!?'

'That was a total #SlapInTheFace'

'WWEMorgan101 has lost yet another screw for betraying Ambrose #YouReallyDoneItNow'

'Just cleaned my glasses to make sure I was looking at what WWEMorgan101 did clearly. #IsThisReallyHappening?'

'It's about time! Finally, she's with The Authority! If you can't beat them, join them. And that's exactly what WWEMorgan101 did!'

'WWEMorgan101 must be really confident about her safety after attacking Dean Ambrose. Watch your back.'

'How dare you do that Dean Ambrose!? You are gonna get it WWEMorgan101! #WhyMorganWhy'

'Please just do not let Morgan explain anything tonight. Let this marinate. I'm loving this,'

'And just like that Morgan has become the most hated woman in WWE'

Celeste tweets 'I don't understand. Was this about power? Success? It's not worth it. #SoldYourSoulForWhat?'

Naomi tweets 'WWEMorgan101 just made the biggest mistake of her life! #DeanAmbroseAlwaysGetsEven'

Triple H tweets 'I finally got her. Welcome to The Authority WWEMorgan101. You won't regret it. #WelcomeToTheDarkSide'

Paul Heyman tweets 'WWEMorgan101 is a brilliant conniver! She fooled everyone.'

Seth Rollins tweets 'What can I say? I knew she'd give in to me. She deserves better. She's mine, now.'

AJ Lee tweets 'WWEMorgan101 Why? You just pissed off all your fans! What do you gain from this? You and I need to talk on Raw.'

--------

Natalya and Naomi angrily walk around backstage.

"Where is she? Where the hell is she? We are gonna find her little ass. She isn't going to be off the hook from this." Natalya looked around while walking with Naomi, in a hurry. "I can't believe her...What the hell was that!?"

"I know. I mean after all she's done to The Authority? Now she joins them? This is not right," Naomi said in disappointment.

"Did you see that engagement ring on her finger that Ambrose gave her? And how she took it off, like it was nothing to her? That is unforgivable! Dean loves her to death! He did everything for her! He sacrificed so much for her, and now she turns around and does this?"

"Yeah. Wonder why she didn't tell us about that, ring. There is no loyalty around here. How could she?"

"Guess there's no engagement now since she wants to take off the ring and sell out. It's a slap in the face—there she is. Morgan!"

The two divas walked up to her and Seth. "Why would you do that!? Why!?" Natalya shouted.

"How could you? Why would you do that to Dean?" Naomi asked, looking at her in disappointment.

Seth, who had his arm around Morgan, spoke up. "Ladies, can't you see that this doesn't concern you? Now move it, along. Morgan doesn't have to explain herself to you."

Natalya shook her head, shooting her an angry look. She firmly stated, "You...are such a hypocrite. You chose power. The Authority over a man who loves you? Who stood by you through everything? Dean deserves so much better."

"Correction. Morgan deserves so much better." Seth smirked and continued walking with the Outspoken Diva.

Natayla's words did not bother Morgan at all. She couldn't care less what she thought.

"After all you've done against The Authority...? For your family and friends? For the fans? For Jane? Your own mother?" Nattie asked.

"She did what was best for business," Seth stated.

"I'm pretty sure the OUTSPOKEN diva can speak for herself." she sharply replied to Rollins, giving him a dirty look, before turning her attention back to Morgan. "How could you? Why? We were all rooting for you and Dean. Ever since that last week before WrestleMania. And now you do this?"

Morgan looked at them up and down before smirking. She brushed past them and kept walking with her held up high.

"Instead of worrying about Morgan, worry about yourselves," Rollins glared at them and walked away to catch up with her.

The two continued to walk around backstage as everyone stared at them in shock.

"Morgan! Morgan." Renee rushed over to her. "Morgan, why did you attack Dean Ambrose and align yourself with Seth Rollins?"

All of a sudden, Morgan starts laughing. Getting Seth's arm wrapped around her, she sighed and left with him, leaving Renee confused.

----

"Damn it!"

The sounds of growls, thumps, kicks, and punches were heard backstage, as a vexed Lunatic paced around. He wanted to rip Seth Rollins' head off. He wanted to tear him apart. But most of all, he wanted to get his hands on the woman he envisioned to have a life together. He thought their relationship was going great. He gained her trust back after what he did back in January. He thought he was doing everything right, and nothing could stop them.

His mind went back to the day he asked her to marry him. He remembered the innocent gasp she made when he went down on one knee. Her angelic laugh she let out when he said cheesy things about how

much he loved her. Her emotional 'Yes!' and how she tackled him into a hug, letting out tears of joy.

How could all of that be an act? How couldn't he see right through her deceiving ways? She looked fine. Smiling, loving the crowd, and taking on Rosa and The Authority. What happened?

Ambrose ran his hands through his damp hair, which was covered with water and sweat. WWE Superstars, divas, and backstage workers looked on with sympathy, worry, and fear as Ambrose continued to assault everything in his path, from black storage boxes to walls, chairs, and tables. They kept their distance, letting him take all his anger out. They pondered if Morgan knew what she was doing. Dean can lose his cool, but no one saw him become this enraged. Not even when Seth betrayed The Shield.

"Dean." Eden's voice filled his ears as she cautiously walked up to him, for an interview.

His cool, blue eyes filled with sadness, rage, and disgust over the events that transpired, turned his attention to her.

"Morgan shocked the WWE Universe when she low blowed you­—" Her words got blocked away in his mind as he mentally cringed at the thought.

He begins to remember the events that happened in the ring, not too long ago. That uncharacteristic look she gave him when he was helpless in the ring.

"Dean, can you please give me your thoughts on what happened out there?"

Ambrose came back to reality and exhaled, letting the question sink in. He shook his head, trying to calm himself down. He then let out an unamused laugh.

"Oh, Morgan...she really done it, now. She really screwed up this time." He growled. "She broke my heart. She tore my heart into pieces. She stood there and watched me get beaten. No...that isn't going to happen again. It won't happen again." He looked at the camera, with a crazed look. "Harley...I want you to know that this isn't over. I'm going to get you. And I want my damn ring back. And if I have to rip or bite it off your finger, I will. You're going to pay for this." He stormed off.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Light of This World | Ch.2

When you awoke in the comfortable embrace of those same silken sheets you frantically cradled your hand to your chest. The same one that just hours ago—if they even count by those—stuck into a giant cube of molten rock. Even with the confirmation that you were their beloved Light, it didn’t change the shaking fear that clung to you still. A people that condoned abduction, and causing physical harm to their abductee in search for a being they weren’t even sure existed. Registering lightly padded steps and the muffled musings of the servants in white from behind the door gilded in golden accents and velvet textures. Your body kept still in a curled position, refusing to acknowledge the recent presence of Rowana’s High Priestess; the Light’s beloved guide.

“(Y/n)? Are you…doing okay?”

Peering over the foot of your bed she tried to meet your eyes through the transparent curtain and failed. For you kept your eyelids shut, tucking your head as far into the plush pristine pillows that you could. You refused! Refused to concede to the one who sprung this on you so suddenly! The one who sat silently behind as the gaggle of faceless worshippers and fanatics were willing to burn away your hand despite their protests. 

“(Y/n)--I–I am really sorry about all this…I’m sorry all I can really do is just stand there…”

The sight of her brown eyes flashing sympathy and pain when you called to her. The spiteful gaze pointed at those wearing white disappearing as fast as they came. The glassy eyes pleaded with you to forgive her as she reached to you once more. Her pink lips quivered and her rapid blinking spoke volumes to you as you sat up in the bed.

“P-please (Y/n)! Forgive me!”

______________________________________________________

You let the shivering hands of those in white button your pearl-white tunic. A minor compromise for having dressed with only Brie present. The moment the final button was done you shooed them away letting Brie dismiss them as she walked slightly ahead of you guiding you from the solace of the bedroom through the golden hallways of the castle. 

She walked so elegantly. Her feet stepped parallel to one another and her hands folded in front of her. You attempted to mirror her only for her to shoot a look of disdain, as though she wanted to slap your hands apart. Taking the message to heart, you released your hands balling your hands into fists keeping them at your sides. You flashed a look of pride only to be met with her exasperated shaking her head. If it weren’t for her necessity to be stone-like she would have no doubt brought a disappointed pointer and thumb to pinch at her nose. 

She halted the entourage and you at the arrival of what she deemed your personal throne. And for a personal throne room, it was quite extravagant. The floor was shiny black marble that had white and golden streaks that led up to the golden accent stairs to the golden throne. The throne itself was large, padded and surrounded by white and black pillows. A blanket was folded neatly in place enticing you to finally test how comfortable this throne. The rest of the room was a mixture of gold and black coloring pillars that held up high vaulted ceiling that that featured a single light, synonymous with a miniature sun–a bright burning ball seemed to glow at the center piece of the chandelier. There was one window, or there should have been but it looked as though the space was filled in with an opaque brick covered by a golden velvet curtain. It was extravagant. 

It almost happened to outstand the creature waiting stiffly at the steps of the cushioned throne. 

“My Light, this is your head Head Captain: General Minks. The highest in command for you and Rowana’s safety.”

The creature bowing before you was like none you’d met before. Dressed in a fitted white uniform fashioned with a red sash tucked into a sword-holding belt—he no doubt had the look of a general. But the clothes had nothing to their wearer. He was of moderate height with purple skin and pointed ears. The scleras of his eyes were black and his irises a ruby amber, seemingly glowing as they followed you. They were slightly shrouded by indigo-colored bangs which stemmed from a head of violet and pink strands that reached down his back. In short, he was other-worldly.

As Brie had instructed you, you only lightly bowed your head before offering your hand into his waiting purple one. Your resisted the urge to pull away when soft lips fully grazed against your hand. You tried to keep a straight face as Brie sighed and loudly began to cough in hopes of drawing the general’s attention from you.

“General. Minks. If. You. Please?!”

He groaned leaning his head back and rolling his eyes. He turned to stare directly into your eyes again, watching you fluster as he brings your knuckles to his kiss again.

“It truly is a pleasure to be of service to you my Light, I am General Minks.”

“N-nice to meet you. Uhm and a–likewise?”

You frantically looked to Brie for approval who shrugged and circled her hand. Lighting up with remembrance of the protocol, you brought your hand in front of you feeling the way his touch lingered as you pulled away. With your head held high you moved past him, stepping up those marble steps to the throne, working to keep your own enjoyment hidden as you settled into the throne. 

At the elevated vantage you could see the entirety of those in your private throne room the servants practically drooling huddled at the foot of the steps and the guards with obsidian armor and steel accents posted at both gilded entrances one of which you entered in. General Minks stood wiith an unknown glint in his eyes on the second step.

Brie stood near your left side, bending slightly to lean near your ear. 

“If your wondering he’s an elder demon contracted to a previous Light. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him!”

You shot her a questioning look so she continued.

“He just does whatever he wants! He usually doesn’t even spend time training his army–”

“Well perhaps that’s because he never had a Light to protect!”

Brie sneered at the interloper, who had somehow appeared at your other shoulder, without you even noticing, to playfully whisper his own defense.

“Ugh! That has nothing with you being an insufferable rat-demon!” 

“And that your majesty is what’d you’d call discrimination.”

“Its true to his character! So many of the followers we carefully vet and filter during the hiring process get their souls harvested with no compensation!”

“Didn’t they put you through the wringer your majesty? It should be okay if some of them should…retire early.”

“Uhhhhh?”

“Don’t expect them to condone your murderous tendencies!”

The two continued to bicker bordering on playful teasing and accusations of high treason. You sighed leaning back into your seat to let the arguing on either side of you. You were glad there were pillows it was going to be a long day…