#matthew the family man series

[ghostbustermelanieking]

my brain is like "there must be some significance to jesse's green eyes being the same shade that stabbed!jonathan's eyes are described as being" but i can't figure out what the hell that would be -- sebastian can't be descended from jesse if drusilla is descended from jesse because that'd make her romance with ash weird

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 28]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k 🌶️

ao3 link

Sometimes, Matt forgets what it feels like to be happy.

His life has been tragedy after tragedy, many of his own making, and more than once it had been overwhelming. He remembers all too well the feeling of gravel in his knees as he begged for Death to come to him. He will never stop having nightmares about choking on ash and dust as his world collapses around him. His hands will always have blood on them.

But when you smile at him - really, truly smile - all of those memories fade into the background. They get banished to who knows where and he’s enveloped in this lightness he can’t explain. Nothing else in the world matters to him but you. 

You, and how your hand goes up to try to hide your mouth, like you are too scared to let anyone see you have emotions.

You, and how breathy your voice gets when you are trying to not laugh. 

You, and how your heart has calmed from jack rabbiting everywhere from just being near him to the steady rhythm he daydreams about. 

You bring him this sense of peace he does not understand and all he wants in life is to do the same for you. 

Love does not begin to describe what he feels for you. 

He loved (loves) Elektra.

He loved (loves) Karen. 

He belongs to you - body, spirit, and mind.

He would deny God and worship only at your altar for the remainder of Eternity if you even gave the hint, you wanted as much. 

He would lay down his gloves and armor if that is what you wished for.

He would turn and walk away from Hell’s Kitchen if you led him elsewhere. 

In such a short time, your Light has wrapped itself around him and he oh so willingly let himself be consumed. You make him want to be Better.

He wants to be a Better person, a Better fighter, a Better protector, a Better lawyer, a Better friend, a Better lover, a Better father. He wants to be Better because only then - maybe - could he possibly deserve an ounce of what you give him. 

You have built so many walls around your heart that it scares him. He has a feeling you will never let him know why those walls are there or who so thoroughly broke you that you need them, but it does not matter to him. He understands, more than anyone, that they exist for a reason, and he is going to systematically tear through every single one. 

He doesn’t care how slowly and methodically he has to chip away at them. He is going to savor every victory, because it is one millimeter closer to you. 

Taking you out to dinner was something he was prepared to wait months for, but a unique opportunity presented itself and he decided it was worth the risk of you saying ‘no’.

But now you are sitting across from him, tucked into a corner of one of the most glamorous restaurants in the city, giggling into your palm while he tells you about one of his college adventures. 

“What happened next?” you ask in an excited whisper.

His lips turn up into a mischievous grin as he concludes his story, “We were locked out on the roof all night. We managed to flag someone down in the morning, but the damage was done. I took the fall - the poor blind man got turned around and went up the wrong staircase and his nice friend went looking for him, so they didn’t press any charges, but the professor tore us a new one. Foggy refused to drink red wine for at least ten years after.”

Your body sings with laughter and Matt feels himself puff up in Pride. Your disposition is night and day from earlier in the evening - you had been stiff, and he could literally taste the anxiety rolling off you in waves. You had been hunched in and quiet. It had been a task for him to delicately untangle your nerves, but he had accomplished his goal, and his reward was your hand on top of the table, just a breath away from his own. 

He is playing it slow, though.

As much as he wants to touch you - any part of you - he knows better than to push for anything. He’s asked so much of you tonight and he is not going to ruin it all by making you uncomfortable with a bold display of public affection such as hand holding. 

“You are lucky it wasn’t snowing,” you comment as you go for the last sip of your wine. “You could have frozen to death.”

He gives a nonchalant half shrug, “we are not above huddling together for warmth, and it isn’t like Foggy and I haven’t shared a bed before.” He pauses, then just to soothe any worry you might have, adds, “Plus, I would have gotten us back in long before then. The building was only four stories, so it would have been easy to scale down, break in, and go unlock the door without tipping Fog off. He was that drunk.”

You exhale through your nose in a way he knows you are making a cute little pouting face. “He didn’t know?”

There’s a hint of confusion and caution in the question and Matt decides he’ll never get over how carefully you tread around certain topics. The hesitancy leaves him the option to explain or dismiss and it is something he cherishes about you. 

The subject of his secrecy with his abilities with regards to his best friend isn’t something he likes to think about. It hurt both of them and the ripples of the aftermath can still be felt, but Matt won’t let that ache out, so he replies with the simple truth, “No one did.”

A soft hum escapes your throat, and he expects a follow up akin to ‘that must have been lonely’ or some other sentiment. So, of course, you go in a different direction. 

“I don’t think I could climb down the side of a building.”

He chuckles at your musing and the way your Light once again chases off his ever-present dark thoughts. “No?”

You hum again in affirmative, and your lips give the slightest pop as they go up into a smile, “I was never a big jungle gym person. I don't remember the last time I climbed anything. There was a rock wall at the ESU gym I wanted to try, but they were so understaffed I didn’t want to bother them.”

Before he can comment about his experience with rock walls, the heavy thud of worn leather loafers enters into the mental perimeter he has made around the table, signaling the approach of someone.

Your hand slides off the table and away from his. 

“I see the tarta de queso was the correct choice,” the front of house manager says, amusement clear in his thick New Jersey accent. Matt can tell he's been in the restaurant business for a long time - his movements are smooth as he clears the dishes from the table and the smell of garlic has seeped into his skin. Surprisingly, he doesn't reek of cigarettes or weed - a strong odor most fine dining workers carry. It is something he appreciates. 

Matt had enjoyed his meal. The food was not only delicious - it was clean. The chef runs a tight kitchen. He had heard it when he had checked in to see when food would be coming out. There is no cross contamination on the knives and plates are thoroughly rinsed. He couldn't even taste the soap on the forks. 

“It was perfect. And so pretty,” you say, your voice taking on a polite and pleasant tone. He's noticed that you adopt it whenever you are talking to a service worker. It's sweet. 

“It was amazing,” he agrees quickly.

The man gives a hardy laugh, “Good, good. Now, would you like one more glass of wine? Maybe an after-dinner drink or coffee? Something to go? We have some albondigas that reheat in the microwave beautifully.”

Matt defers to you and your hair bounces as you shake your head, “I think I am at my limit. Everything was absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Another waiter slips into the perimeter and silently relieves the front of house manager of plates and wine glasses, leaving the man with the ability to clap his hands together. “The pleasure was all mine. Mister Murdock and his guests are welcome back anytime, our treat. Just give us a call and let us know, we will have a table for you.”

It is his turn to thank the man, and he does so, adding, “That is too kind of you.”

“Nonsense! It is the least we could do for you,” the man declares, and Matt’s neck heats up just a little. The daughter of the owner had gotten into some hot water, and he had been able to keep her out of jail. “Now! I will leave you two lovebirds be, but you let me know if you change your mind about that coffee.”

He quite literally bows out and Matt directs his full focus back to you. 

All of the signals he is getting indicate you are as pleased as he is with how your night is going. He can guess you have a shy little smile with how your head is ever so slightly ducked and he wonders if you’re looking at him through your lashes. He can practically feel your gaze dancing over his features. A certain tang is starting to hit his palette that gets his blood pumping and he all but starts to salivate. 

He can’t hold back the slight growl in his voice when he asks, “Want to get out of here?”

Your body gives him the reaction he wants, and he is quick to stand and offer you his arm. You get up rather gracefully - Matt thinks you are hyper aware of your movements, and you want to look composed in such an elegant restaurant - and take hold of his bicep. It is the opposite of how you usually walk, but you have no trouble leading him through the winding tables and out onto the sidewalk. The change in temperature gives you a shiver and instinctively, you press closer. 

He wants to pull you flush, to get his hands on the silk he’s draped your curves in, but he reminds himself to behave. 

You turn to face him, hand still on his sleeve. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth as you work up the nerve to say whatever you are going to. He is, of course, patient and lets you fret and fuss for a few seconds. 

“Do you,” you start, barely above a whisper and as sweet and thick as honey, “want to get a cab back to your place?”

He had had more plans to woo you, but they are tossed away as soon as the words leave your lips. He wants nothing more than your suggestion and tells you as much before moving to flag down the nearest car. Given the popularity of the venue, it takes all but a second. He slides in behind you and gives the cabbie his address. 

His apartment is only a few blocks away, but that's far too many for you to walk in your gown. 

And Matt wants to get there as fast as possible.

The ride is silent as can be, but far from uneventful. Like it is a continuation from dinner, both his hand and yours end up on the seat between you. He tries to remain calm and collected, but his heart pounds in his chest like he is a teenager as he stretches his pinky out to brush against yours. Your breath catches in your throat and arousal courses through you so quickly it makes his head spin and his dick jump to attention. 

So hesitantly, like the cabbie is going to turn around and start chastising you for being so scandalous, you link your finger with his. He doesn’t even try to fight the smile that takes over his face. His boyish excitement must be contagious - you’re biting at your lips again and your face radiates heat. 

He is quick to take the lead for the next step, not even thinking as he turns your hand and laces your fingers with his. They fit together perfectly - and like the lovesick puppy he is, he can’t resist the cliche hand squeeze. 

Apparently, you are just as cheesy as he is, because your hand clenches around his just a millisecond faster. 

It is hours or minutes or days of your Light wrapping around Matt’s mind before the cab rolls up in front of his apartment and he is paying for the ride. He refuses to let go of you as you both leave the car, and he doesn’t wait for it to pull away before he’s leading you to the building’s door.

The dynamic shifts once you cross the threshold. 

It is only a few steps in until you are in front of the elevator and Matt expertly pivots so he is behind you once the call button is pressed. He no longer has to hold back - there is no one around and cameras do not exist in this building. His hands go to your waist, and he tangles his fingers into the silk of your dress. It’s still cool to the touch and slides over his skin like water. His hands smooth up your body just a fraction - hitching your dress up so it no longer touches the ground. 

He pulls you back, so you are flush to his chest and it is a step back you eagerly take. As he ducks his head to latch his lips to your pulse point, you let yours fall to the side, giving him so much more access. He doesn’t waste this gift - this offering - and he leaves his first mark of the night. 

Your body weeps for him. If the salt from your skin wasn’t coating his tongue, the tart flavor of your arousal would be. He can hear the way your cunt flexes and clenches around nothing, and he silently promises he won’t leave you empty for much longer. You are not the only one eager and he needs to get his fix before he spends the rest of the night taking you apart. 

Luckily, Foggy has agreed to babysit until one in the morning, so Matt has plenty of time to savor you. 

Under his tongue, you struggle to not moan. Your control is too tight to allow that in public, but once you are in his bed, he is going to make you hoarse. The catches in your throat are the best kind of tease. 

You breathe his name just as the elevator slides open. He urges you forward and follows without letting up his kissing. He goes up your neck until he can nip at your earlobe, and you melt even more under his touch.

“Sixth floor,” he whispers, not wanting to let go of you to reach for the buttons. It takes you a moment to act and you are a bit clumsy with pressing the right floor, but it doesn’t matter. The doors close and Matt has you in his arms. 

His hands wander over your hips and belly - he can't get enough of you and the way your skin sounds against the fabric is like music to his ears. All he wants to do is touch you.

You press your hips back, so your ass rubs against him enticingly. He’s long since hard and the intentional friction makes his brain short circuit for a split second - it takes everything to not grind into you or pin you to the elevator wall. 

Your hands find his and you oh so gently drag your nails over his knuckles while also applying pressure to his wrist with the heel of your hand. He takes it as a sign you want more, and he spreads his fingers as wide as he can to drag over your hips. 

“I need my cock in you,” he breaths into your ear. You shudder and barely hold back a whine. “I need to feel you cum for me, just from that. Then I’m going to lay you out and get my fill of that perfect pussy of yours until you can’t say anything but my name. Then,” he promises, letting his voice get ragged and lower in octave, “I’m going to flip you over and mount you like I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

“Matt..” you choke on his name, and he takes a moment to admire that you are managing to stay composed. It’s holding on by a string, but you are not giving him the satisfaction of turning you into a mess.

Yet.

The elevator finally reaches the correct floor and creaks open. You move practically as one as you both hurry out of the elevator. He hates he has to let go of you to get the keys from his pocket, but he has enough practice he doesn’t fumble with them to get the door open. 

He doesn’t know who does what first once inside - all he knows is his mouth is on yours before the lock clicks shut and your hands are in his hair. You’re up against the door and it is him producing the needy noises as he ruts against you. 

All of your shyness and hesitancy is gone in the privacy of his apartment. You are as hungry for him as he is for you, and it is him who has to break the kiss to be able to breathe. You start to push at his suit jacket, but he won’t allow it - instead he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. 

“Not yet,” he hums. The last of the blood in his head doesn’t let him forget that he has one last thing to do before he can take you to bed. 

You pout but don’t complain, and he rewards that by lacing his fingers with yours once again. He guides you from the entrance hallway and towards his bedroom, walking backwards the entire way so he remains facing you. The click of your heels echo and with each step, his cock twitches with desire. 

His bedroom has a new addition that he leads you to - a mirror. He’s propped it on his dresser just for this occasion. He understands your confusion as he positions himself behind you, but you play along with his game, not questioning his intentions. 

He lets go of your hands to smooth them up your arms, to your shoulders, then the back of your dress. The zipper glides down smoothly and with a little urging from him, the gown drops from your figure to pile on the ground, leaving you in just your heels and panties. 

Lace panties he had purchased and snuck into the garment bag that dress had come in. He would have bought you shoes as well, but he didn’t know your size. 

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you comment, but Matt can hear how you don’t actually care about that. Your blood is thrumming, and your slick has started to creep out of its confines and down your leg.

“Patience, my darling.” 

You have on earrings - dangly things that tinkle with every movement of your head. He has little practice removing such things and he is lucky they are hooks he can slide out instead of complicated studs he’s heard Karen complain about. Again, you don’t question him, only tilting your head to help him when you realize what he is doing. He sets them and his glasses on the dresser before he gently taps his shoe against your heels. That is all the instruction you need, and you step out of them. 

The last thing is your panties. As much as he wants to rip them off with his teeth, that is not the plan for the night. He ghosts his hands down your sides before he hooks his thumbs at their hem and lets them fall to be with the dress.

His blood pounds in his ears as he reaches into his coat pocket. The box nestled inside is small, fitting in the palm of his hand, and he keeps it out of your view as he pulls it out. His fingers may or may not shake as he opens the box and removes the delicate chain hidden inside. 

The inhale you take and the way you still as he drapes the necklace around your throat tells him everything he needs to know. Lightning is dancing up and down you as goosebumps cover your skin and he doesn’t need to taste the salt in the air to know there are tears starting to gather in your eyes. 

He clasps the necklace close, then lets his hands fall so they can wrap around your waist. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and simply states, “You are beautiful.”

The necklace is a single, tear shaped pendant about the size of his fingernail, hanging from a thin chain. According to the jeweler, the gemstone is a deep red ruby. It is simple and elegant. 

You hold your breath as you reach up to touch it. Your eyes are fixed on the mirror, and he can tell your lips are parted in shock as you examine yourself. He takes advantage of your distraction to kiss your shoulder. 

“Will you wear this for me?” he asks with his voice. 

‘Will you let me love you’ is what his heart means.

He tries to not panic when you don’t respond. He knows that your cheeks are now wet, and he Prays he did not get his signals wrong. This may have been a step too much - you might not yet be ready for this. 

His doubt is vanquished as you swirl around and kiss him with everything you have. 

He gets undressed in record time - you work his pants while he shrugs off his jacket and yanks his dress shirt over his head, not bothering to deal with the buttons. Soon enough you are both nude and stumbling into the bed. 

Matt lets you direct him onto his back, and he reaches for the drawer of his bedside table while you crawl on top of him. It is your turn to kiss his neck and shoulders, adding in bites and scrapes of your teeth as he all but rips a condom out of its packaging. He knows you aren’t on birth control yet - and as much as he wants to fill you to the brim with his seed, he also knows pregnancy isn’t something you want in your near future. 

He barely gets the protection on before your perfect heat is surrounding him. You throw your head back, shameless in your moaning as you sink down onto him. 

He nearly cums from just that.

You plant your hands on his chest, nails dragging wonderfully down his skin, and begin to ride him like you were meant for it. He had wanted to fuck you into the mattress, but if this is what you want, he has no room to complain. His hands find your waist and he digs his fingers in, wanting to leave bruises as he keeps you steady on his cock. 

“Take what you want, sweetheart, I’m yours. I’m yours,” he encourages. “Ride my cock.”

You squeeze around him, your body already so close to release. He needs you to chase it. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you pant as you grind your cunt on him, “been wanting this. Wanting you. Needing you.”

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, baby. Tell me what you want.”

He gets his feet planted so he can start meeting your rolls and his hands can no longer stay still. One goes down so he can rub at your already swollen and soaking clit and the other jumps to your breast. Your nipple is pebbled under his thumb, and he pinches at it, making you keen.

“Wanna…Matt..want this.” 

You are far too focused on bouncing on him to get out words and he doesn’t mind one bit - he’ll get you to tell him your desires at some point. He has all night to coax it out. 

You claw at him as your core begins to tighten and Matt puts himself to work. He becomes so easily lost in you - your skin on his, your taste in his mouth, your sweet noises drowning out everything else except the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you. He wants his mouth on you, but you’ve got him pinned as you use him for support and leverage. You are starting to shake, and he takes up any slack in your riding by increasing his thrusts.

Your nails pierce his skin as your cunt begins to squeeze and pulse around him and, even with a condom, it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. 

He doesn’t white out, but he misses when you collapse onto him, because the next thing he knows, you’re nuzzling into his neck with a pleased hum. He returns the noise as he brushes his nose and lips over the crown of your head. 

“Don’t wanna move,” you mumble against him, and Matt finds himself agreeing. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close and greedily keeping all of your weight on him.

“We can stay here as long as you want, darling. I’m yours.”

With the smallest movement, you turn your face to hide against him and breathe out words he’s sure he’s not actually meant to hear.

“You’re mine.”

((“I love you.”))

---

im not dead anymore

--

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[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

OMG. What if Spencer finds out reader is pregnant, then they’re obviously like SUPER HAPPY! then they go to the ultrasound technician and find out they’re having….

TWINSSS!!

part of my pregnant!reader series. it’s like with my mom and her twin sister, a rare family pairing.

“okay if we have another girl let’s name her…”

“well i think we’re gonna have a boy this time and i like matthew. mattys a cute nickname.”

spencer chuckled, “okay, matthew for boy. and charlotte for a girl, it dates back to the fourteenth century and means ‘free man’ and ‘petite’. and matthew is a traditional hebrew name meaning ‘gift of god’.”

you rubbed both palms over your exposed stomach, “you don’t have to be any of those meanings, little one. i just like the names.” whispering for the the growing apple.

you and spencer were waiting in the ultrasound room at your gyno’s office. you were six months along and this was the finally check up to make sure the fetus was still healthy and no complications were showing. their kicking seemed to be more active, you could barely sleep last night as your intestines were used like a punching bag.

there was a knock then the technician stepped into the room, “hello mr and mrs. reid. i see that this is your second child. would you like to know the gender or wait until the birth?” she sent her chart down, snapped her gloves on and started to apply the ice cold topical.

“oh!” a quiet noise from you. “uh, we’ve decided to know this time. we waited with our first child and just thought this might move some things along faster.” turning to look at spencer and both of you smiled delicately at each other.

“alrighty, let’s see this little one.” she set the tool near your bellybutton then began to move it around until movement showed on the screen beside her, “our little star and, oh…”

she got quiet while looking closer at the monitor and vitals. you felt your heart beat faster by two and squeezed spencer’s hands a little tight, “is- are they okay?”

the technician smiled, her eyes on the screen then to you. “well it looks like your family is growing by two. it’s twins.”

“…twins?” spencer sounded speechless. “chances of twins is one in forty-three worldwide. there aren’t even any know twins on either side of our family.” his mouth running faster then his mind.

she laughs, “well it looks like the second one was just more quiet. and also it looks to be a boy and girl, fraternal twins. and they are both in perfect health.” she worked on printing out pictures then wiped down your stomach, “also i heard that mothers of twins will live longer since their body has to be stronger growing two fetus at once.”

“that’s a pretty nice thought.” she left the two of you to grab your pictures.

spencer rubbed a knuckle over your cheek, a dreamy smile on his face. “looks like we both get to have our baby names,” giving your forehead a loving kiss.

“and you’re getting a vasectomy.”

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

"If you cross her, then you cross me” I Matthew Knies☆

Requested: yes/no

Summary: After weeks apart, Matthew Knies finally sees his girlfriend again, his heart racing with anticipation. Yet, the sight of bruises on her arm brings a sharp reminder of why he hates being away from her.

Tropes & warnings: Matthew Knies x reader, established relationship, boyfriend!Kniesy, protective!Kniesy, no real harm (bruise), Smut 18+; Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes: So, we're at the final stop of our Followers Festival, and I can’t express enough how grateful I am for your input! Writing like this is always so much fun and thrilling, as it's pushing me to explore new challenges 🤗 Thank you so much for joining my little celebration and for reading my work ❤️ Lots of love!

Word count: 2.9K

➼｡ﾟ

You and your boyfriend, Matthew Knies, had been apart for far too long.

_

Almost a year ago, your life had taken an unexpected yet wonderful turn, where it all started on a crisp autumn evening when you decided to attend a charity event organised by your company. You hadn’t particularly been enthusiastic about going, but it was for a good cause, and as the newest (and youngest) hire, you felt obliged to make an appearance.

The venue was a beautiful old mansion converted into an event space, filled with elegantly dressed guests, soft music, and the hum of polite conversation. And almost lost in your own thoughts, you casually wandered around, occasionally mingling with colleagues and sampling the delicious hors d'oeuvres, when you suddenly spotted a tall, handsome man across the room. He had a relaxed confidence about him, and you couldn't help but notice the way he smiled as he chatted with a group of people.

Then feeling the need to hold onto something for comfort, you made your way over to the refreshment table near where he stood. And as luck would have it, you both reached for the same glass of champagne at the same time, where the tall man simply laughed, a warm, genuine sound, and motioned for you to take it.

“Looks like we have the same taste,” he said with a grin.

You smiled back, feeling a spark of something you couldn’t quite identify. “I guess we do.”

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he introduced casually, extending his hand.

“I'm y/n,” you replied softly, shaking his hand in a polite and friendly manner. His grip was firm yet reassuring, and you found yourself immediately at ease.

And from that small moment, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You discovered that Matthew was a professional hockey player, currently enjoying some downtime before the new season began. He was charming and down-to-earth, with a passion for the sport that was infectious. You shared stories about your jobs, your interests, and your families, finding common ground in unexpected places.

So, as the evening progressed, you both found yourselves gravitating towards each other, enjoying the easy banter and undeniable chemistry. When the event then started to wind down, Matthew hesitated for a moment before asking if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime.

“I'd love that,” you replied, feeling a flutter of excitement.

And so, your relationship began. The first coffee date turned into a series of outings—dinners, walks in the park, movie nights—each one bringing you closer together. Matthew’s schedule was hectic, but he always made time for you, and you quickly found yourself falling for him faster than you had ever thought possible.

By the time you reached the six-month mark, you knew this was something truly special. Despite the challenges of his demanding career and your own busy life, the bond you shared only grew stronger. The time apart was hard, but it made the moments together even more precious.

_

The off-season brought you nothing but more joy and excitement into your life. Matthew had invited you to spend a few weeks in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona, where you were introduced to everyone. 

And those weeks in Phoenix were nothing but magical, filled with warm, sun-soaked days and cool, starry nights. You visited his favourite childhood spots, hiked the stunning desert trails, and shared countless meals with his family, where his parents welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

Matthew took you to some of his favourite local hangouts, where you met his old friends who regaled you with stories of their younger days. And you could easily see the deep bonds he had with them, which made you feel even closer to him. The evenings were your favourite, spent on the porch of his family’s home, sipping cold drinks and watching the spectacular Arizona sunsets.

Those quiet moments, where you could simply enjoy each other's company without any interruptions, were what you cherished the most. 

But as wonderful as those weeks had been, reality eventually intruded, and you were called back to return to work. Matthew stayed back as he was busy with off-season training, his days then filled with rigorous workouts and team meetings, while your own days were consumed by the demands of your job. 

Though you both tried to keep in touch with nightly video calls and sweet text messages throughout the day, it was never quite the same as being together. The screen could never capture the warmth of his touch or the comfort of his presence.

The nights were lonely, and the days felt endless without him. The ache of missing him settled deep in your chest, a constant reminder of the distance between you. You threw yourself into work, trying to fill the void, but it was a poor substitute for the man you loved. Weekends were the hardest. You'd find yourself aimlessly wandering the apartment, lingering over the photos of the two of you scattered around, each one a painful reminder of what you were missing.

And sensing your melancholy, your friends decided to cheer you up. So, they dragged you out one night, determined to lift your spirits. They took you to a lively bar downtown, where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the sound of loud, pulsing music. And for a while, it worked. The drinks flowed, laughter came easily, and the music helped drown out your thoughts as you danced with your girlfriends, trying to forget how much you missed Matthew.

But then, amid the flashing lights and the thumping bass, a man approached you. At first, he seemed harmless, just another person looking to have a good time. But as the night wore on, his behaviour became more insistent. He moved closer, invading your personal space, and his touch lingered on your arm longer than was comfortable. You tried to signal politely but firmly that you weren’t interested, yet he didn’t seem to take the hint. At one point, his grip even tightened around your wrist, and though you managed to pull away, the encounter left you shaken.

Nothing overtly dangerous happened, but his touch left you feeling unsettled. You felt a surge of anger and frustration, not just at the man who had crossed the line, but at the circumstances that had left you vulnerable and alone. You wished Matthew had been there, his presence a shield against the world.

_

Fortunately, only two days later, you stood at the airport, your heart pounding with anticipation. The noise of the bustling crowd, the rolling of suitcases, and the constant announcements over the intercom all faded into the background as you anxiously scanned the throngs of people for a familiar face. Every second felt like an eternity. But then, through the sea of strangers, you finally spotted him. Matthew’s tall frame and broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Your heart leapt as your eyes met his, and you saw his face break into a wide grin that mirrored your own. And without a moment's hesitation, you dashed towards him, your feet barely touching the ground. When you reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. And effortlessly, he lifted you slightly off the ground as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“Missed you so much,” he murmured into your ear, his voice rough with emotion.

“Missed you too,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest. The relief of being in his embrace after so long was overwhelming, washing over you in waves. You could feel the tension of the past weeks melt away as you clung to him, savouring the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart.

So, with no intention of wasting a single moment, you grabbed his hand and headed straight for the car. The drive to your shared apartment was filled with stolen glances and soft touches, the air between you crackling with anticipation. And by the time you reached your place, the need to be close to each other was almost too much to bear.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Matthew’s lips were already on yours, the urgency of your reunion clear in every kiss. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if to make up for the lost time. Meanwhile, your own hands fumbled with his jacket, eager to feel his skin against yours. You barely made it to the living room before clothes began to come off, a trail of discarded garments marking your path to the bedroom.

And once in the bedroom, Matthew’s hands explored your body, rediscovering every curve he had missed. His touch was both tender and demanding, his fingertips tracing the lines of your body with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. The kisses grew more passionate as he explored your skin, each touch igniting a fire within you.

He knew your body like a map he’d charted himself, but his touch faltered when he encountered a mark on your arm—a bruise that hadn’t been there before. So, he pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the bruise.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was rough, filled with concern and barely-contained anger. His jaw tightened as he looked at you, his protective instincts flaring up.

“It’s nothing, Matts,” you said, trying to downplay it. “Just some guy at a bar… it’s not a big deal.”

“No, this is something!” His eyes were fierce, the protective side of him coming to the fore. “A guy touched you? And bruised you?”

“It looks worse than it was…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle but firm grip on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

Matthew’s face softened slightly, but the anger in his eyes didn’t fully dissipate. “I don’t like thinking about someone else touching you.”

You sighed, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. “I’m alright. I’m here with you now. That’s what matters.”

His gaze remained intense, but then he leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a deep, passionate kiss that stole every bit of air from your lungs. His hands were rough yet tender, conveying the love and longing that had built up over the past weeks. And the kiss was an attempt to claim you, to remind you of his presence and devotion, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions in every movement—how his lips pressed against yours, how his hands held you close. It was as if he was pouring all the missed moments and unspoken words into that one kiss.

And then, Matthew’s focus shifted to ensuring your pleasure, his touch expert and attentive. He started by exploring your body with his mouth, trailing kisses down your jawline and along the valley of your breasts. He lingered briefly at each nipple before continuing downward, moving past your belly button to your core.

Light moans escaped you as he settled between your legs, his arms wrapped around your thighs. He then kissed around your needy centre, his touch both deliberate and tender.

“Please, Matts. I need you,” you whimpered softly, your hand finding his brown locks, as if to pull him closer.

But Matthew just smirked against your skin, tightening his grip before he finally indulged in the craving he’d been holding back. Skillfully, he licked up your folds, drawing moans from you—sweet music to his ears as he savoured your tasty honey.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out, your head sinking deeper into the pillow below you, your fingers gripping his hair. “Mmm, more…”

And your plea was his command. He licked you several times, making sure to explore all of your sensitive areas, before focusing on your sensitive clit. Sucking and nipping, he wasted no time in drawing louder moans from you. And as he sensed your light squirming under his touch, feeling the power he held over you, he worked his skilled mouth with determination.

“Mmm, taste so fucking delicious, baby,” he hummed huskily into your core as he ate you out you like a starved man getting his first meal in months.

“Fuck,” you cried softly as you felt the arousal build within you, a familiar wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You were approaching your climax, and the ecstasy intensified as Matthew continued to suck on your sensitive bead of nerves, making you shut your eyes tightly. And when he then added his long fingers into the mix, it didn’t take long before his skilled tongue pushed you to your first orgasm.

“I’m gonna cu—Matts, I’m coming!”

The sensation was intense, a welcome relief from the tension of your separation.

And as Matthew looked up from between your legs, urging you to meet his gaze, a satisfied smirk played on his lips. “It’s good to be home.”

You couldn’t suppress a smile either, the rush of your orgasm still lingering as he gently moved to hover over you. Feeling the need to shift positions, you then signalled for him to lie on his back.

And Matthew naturally obliged. He always enjoyed when you tried to take charge—emphasis on *trying*, as you both knew that even when you were on top, he was still the one truly in control.

Yet, as you positioned yourself on top of him, you led with fervour and passion. His length was larger than any man you’d experienced before, but whenever he was inside you, it felt like your bodies melded perfectly together. You rolled your hips smoothly, his hands guiding you gently, as your palms pressed firmly on his muscular chest, giving you support to increase your pace at his unspoken command. Then with his thumb pressing insistently against your sensitive clit, Matthew helped you reach another peak. Arching your back and clenching around him, you let his name slip from your lips in a deep moan.

It was a blissful moment as you reached your second orgasm. However, as the rhythm of your movements built, Matthew’s own desire surged. So, with a swift motion, he turned you around into missionary, where he effortlessly took control and began pounding into you with primal intensity. His movements were relentless, driven by his need for release. 

It had been too long. Too long since he had felt himself inside you, too long since he’d climaxed under your touch.

His breathing was erratic, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the echo of skin slapping against skin throughout the room. Your nails dug into the back of his shoulders, and the force of his thrusts pushed both of you to the brink, each touch and movement designed to make the experience as overwhelming and fulfilling as possible.

“Fuck baby…. Oh yes,” he groaned deeply as he spilled his release into you, gasping for air. Matthew knew he finished sooner than he’d usually do, but given the time apart, it was no surprise to either of you.

Besides, you were already satisfied with your own rather quick orgasms he’d caused you. 

You both panted deeply, surprised by how intense and satisfying the reunion felt, more so than you had anticipated. And as you lay tangled in the sheets, the aftermath of your intimacy left both of you spent but content. Yet, you could sense something lingering in Matthew’s demeanour—a worry that hadn’t quite been erased.

“What’s wrong, my love?” you asked softly, tuning slightly to face your incredibly handsome boyfriend, with his Arizona tan. 

But Matthew just brushed a strand of hair from your face, his voice tender and sincere. “I just don’t like thinking of someone else touching you.”

“Then don’t think about it,” you replied, resting a hand on his chest. “Nothing happened. I’m here with you now.”

“But still… if someone crosses you, they also cross me,” he said, his tone resolute and protective. “And I’m not going to let it go. If I knew who it was, I’d…”

“You’d what? Risk your career by punching a stranger in the face?” you chuckled lightly with a cocked brow. 

“No,” Matthew breathed out softly. “I just wanted to make them pay for doing anything like this to you…”

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, touched by his fierce loyalty. “You’re wonderful, Matts. But I can take care of myself when you’re not here. You don’t need to go around and punch people for me.”

“I know you can,” he said, gently pulling you even closer. “I just… I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. And… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me. Not now, not ever.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, reassuring him. 

Matthew’s arms tightened around you, a final, tender embrace as the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber. In that moment, all the fears and uncertainties of the past few weeks faded away, leaving only the certainty of your love for each other.

Well, Matthew, of course, couldn’t let it go completely. So, he interrogated your friends, pressing them for any information about who might have done this to you, earning light chuckles from all of you. However, as weeks passed, the bruises fading, and the hockey season began, the incident faded into the background.

[cosmicalls]

if you like dead poets society, you may like these!

just for fun: a little list of movies, shows, and books i like that i feel have something in common with dps. hopefully you'll find something you'd like, too!

not in any particular order. just the order that i thought of them in really

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A Separate Peace

by John Knowles - published 1959

a coming-of-age novel set at an all-boys new england boarding school. follows two boys, Gene and Finny, and their experiences during the summer and winter sessions of 1942. talks a bit about WWII and what role the boys may have to play in that, but it stays pretty focused on the school and the emotions involved during this time in one's life. all the growth and transformation and oddly homoerotic, perhaps very codependent, friendship of a bildungsroman that we love to look for.

one of my personal favorite books, even considering that it was assigned reading. i truly believe many of you would like it and i know for a fact some of you can vouch for me

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The Perks of Being a Wallflower

by Stephen Chbosky - published 1999 movie adaptation: dir. Stephen Chbosky - released 2012

follows Charlie and his general struggles of high school and with being, well, a wallflower. from goodreads: "Caught between trying to live his life and trying to run from it puts him on a strange course through uncharted territory. The world of first dates and mixed tapes, family dramas and new friends. The world of sex, drugs, and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, when all one requires is that the perfect song on that perfect drive to feel infinite."

very emotional. that's all! i preferred the movie, but i liked the format of the book being completely in letters that Charlie was writing. they're both good! (if you watch the movie, the english teacher's name is Mr. Anderson. so do with that information what you will...!)

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Matilda

by Roald Dahl - published 1988 movie adaptation: dir. Danny DeVito - released 1996 musical adaptation: dir. Matthew Warchus - released 2022

a young girl with an aptitude for reading discovers she has telekinetic abilities at the same time she begins attending school. unfortunately, the principal is an extremely harsh woman, and none of the students seem to enjoy it there. Matilda uses her courage and newfound powers to change her environment for the better, both at school and in her abrasive home.

such a good movie, a childhood favorite. the musical has a great soundtrack too!

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Good Will Hunting

dir. Gus Van Sant - released 1997

a janitor is recognized as a mathematical genius by an MIT professor, and he goes on an emotional journey to embrace his intellect. starring Robin Williams, our dearly beloved inspiration, as the therapist Will goes to see for much of the film.

i only saw it once and my description is lacking but ooh it hurt...... just trust me on this one

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A Series of Unfortunate Events

by Lemony Snicket - published 1999-2006 tv series adaptation: aired 2017-2019

JUST HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE okay. it's about a trio of siblings, orphaned, who are shuttled from one parental unit to another while being followed by a man after their immense wealth. they quickly discover they are in the midst of an intellectual conflict in a secret organization. they must rely on only each other, seeing as all the adults around them are wildly incompetent and/or unhelpful. and it is filled to the brim with literary references!!

both versions have really fun and witty narration, and the tv adaptation is extremely faithful. i don't know how else to describe it without going overboard so i'll settle for not descriptive enough! just trust me. yes it is a kids' series and yes it is one of my favorites ever. it's the vibes of it all

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If We Were Villains

by M.L. Rio - published 2017

about a group of Shakespeare theater students at a very pretentious arts school who find themselves in a very high-tension dynamic following a disaster that occurs after their halloween performance of Macbeth. lots and lots of Shakespeare, lots of dramatics, and the book itself is divided into five acts.

i finished this in about two nights and it was extremely creatively inspiring. it was a bit predictable, but that's not a bad thing. it still had me clutching my pearls and dropping my jaw

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"The Artist of the Beautiful"

by Nathaniel Hawthorne - published 1844

a romantic era short story about a man who feels utterly trapped by his occupation. he would rather concern himself with the delicate beauty of nature, and he attempts to realize this in his passion project - much to the disdain of the people around him.

a bit of a sneak sorry. i just think it's just in line with neil's whole thing you know. it's a lot of long and flowery sentences but it works really well i promise

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The Breakfast Club

dir. John Hughes - released 1985

the letterboxd synopsis really says it all: "They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. | Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. The disparate group includes rebel John, princess Claire, outcast Allison, brainy Brian and Andrew, the jock. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently – and when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same."

i don't have much to add and to be honest! kind of a stretch for this list! but i have faith

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obviously there are other shows and movies with the dead poets society leads, but i wanted to sort of branch out a bit for the bulk of this list. i will still list the ones i had in mind though

House M.D. (2004-2012) - tv series about genius diagnostician Dr. Gregory House and his team at a hospital in new jersey. Robert Sean Leonard stars as House's best friend and head of oncology Dr. James Wilson. very comedic but also very heartwrenching.

Tape (2001) - three friends meet at a motel room and dredge up and argue over unpleasant events of the past. starring Ethan Hawke and Robert Sean Leonard.

Before Sunrise (1995) - from letterboxd: "A young man and woman meet on a train in Europe, and wind up spending one evening together in Vienna. Unfortunately, both know that this will probably be their only night together." Ethan Hawke plays one half of the lead duo.

and yeah there's a LOT more but those are the ones i've seen and sincerely recommend. not to say others aren't good but this is a (very) curated list you see.

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phew that's not as many as i thought i had in my back pocket but it's still pretty good. plus, there's some things i havent read/watched yet that perhaps would have made it but alas! such is life

absolutely add to the list if you'd like!! let's all share our favorite stories

[poirott]

Agatha Christie's 'Towards Zero' tv series: First Look

The BBC has released the first pictures of Towards Zero, based on the classic mystery by Agatha Christie.

England, 1936. After a scandalous celebrity divorce, Nevile Strange and his ex-wife Audrey make the unthinkable decision to spend a summer together at Gull's Point, their childhood home and the coastal estate of Nevile's aunt, Lady Tressilian.

With unfinished business between the former childhood sweethearts, plus the presence of Nevile's new wife Kay, tensions are running high. Add to this a long-suffering lady's companion, a mysterious gentleman's valet, an exiled cousin with a grudge, a venerable family lawyer, an inquisitive orphan and a French con man, and soon there will be murder. A troubled detective must rediscover his purpose to untangle a toxic web of jealousy, deceit and dysfunction. Can he solve the crime before another victim meets their death?

The new pictures give a first glimpse at Lady Tressilian (Anjelica Huston), Inspector Leach (Matthew Rhys) and British tennis star Nevile Strange (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) - seen in the pics with the two ladies in his life: ex-wife Audrey (Ella Lily Hyland) and new wife Kay (Mimi Keene). The series is also starring Clarke Peters as Mr. Treves, an old friend of Lady Tressilian, Anjana Vasan as Mary Aldin, another party guest caught up in this disastrous mess, Jack Farthing as suspect Thomas Royde, Jackie Clune (Motherland), Grace Doherty (Call the Midwife), Khalil Gharbia (Mary & George), and Adam Hugill (Sherwood).

Towards Zero is expected to premiere on the BBC over the 2024 holidays and arrive on BritBox in early 2025. It's been adapted for screen by BAFTA-nominated Rachel Bennette (NW) and directed by the Olivier Award-winning Sam Yates (Magpie).

Source: BBC, Agatha Christie Official Instagram - October 1 2024

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

SECOND ROUND: 1st Tilt

Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark, Game of Thrones (2011-2019) VS. Bard the Bowman, The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014)

Propaganda

Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark, Game of Thrones (2011-2019) Portrayed by: Sean Bean Defeated Opponents: - Lurtz [Lawrence Makoare], The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003) - Prince Hamlet [Iain Glen], Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead (1990)

“This is one of the most noble characters I've ever seen in my life. To the point that it's a little astounding if you know anything about Game of Thrones. Ned Stark put his family first before anything, and wasn't afraid to cast away his honour and reputation to achieve that. He loves his wife dearly (enough to have 5 kids lol) and they rule Winterfell as equals. Also his big fur coat? I am going to nest in there.”

Bard the Bowman, The Hobbit Trilogy (2012-2014) Portrayed by: Luke Evans Defeated Opponents: - Perrin Aybara [Marcus Rutherford], The Wheel of Time (2021-) - Will Scarlet O’Hara [Matthew Porretta], Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

“He wins the Best Father in fiction while also claiming the title of Dragon Slayer. What's not to love?”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Ned Stark:

“Probably the only actually good person in the whole damn series, and a DILF to boot”

For Bard:

[joelmillerlover123]

A Gentlemen's Burden - A romantic regency era Joel Miller story - Part 1

This is going to be a series!!!! Yay!!!!

Description : Your typical life with your sister is thrown upside down as a handsome visitor catches your eye.

Warnings : Um idek if this would be considered a pre/no outbreak AU but I guess it is?? Sarah is a pretty prominent character. Female reader. No use of y/n. Age gap (Joel is like 35ish and reader is like 23ish). Regency!Joel? Tried to keep Joel's character pretty consistent but you know... creative liberties were taken for the point of story telling.

Word count : 3.2k

Let me know if you like it!

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You had grown up in rural England, your father’s sprawling fortune overshadowed by his ‘tragic’ lack of sons. Not that he hadn’t tried, though. After your mother died in childbirth with you, he had married a sleuth of eager, young women, all waiting and wanting to give him that son he so craved. And yet, none of them ever fell pregnant. After his fourth wife and divorce, your father gave up, retreating to his office to manage the estate and figure out who would inherit his fortune. 

That was when you were around thirteen. 

This left you and your sister, Julia, to practically raise yourselves. However, your sister was sixteen and entering the marriage mart. Her beauty and wit earned her a husband in a short time and in her first season. Your father was absolutely overjoyed, because now he may have an heir in a few short years. 

That was almost ten years ago, and your sister has popped out a male heir. In fact, she’s popped out about four children. Your nieces and nephews. They are wonderful. 

Your sister married an extremely rich man and she likes to spend her days traveling and meeting interesting people. Good thing she has an exceptionally soft heart for you, her perpetual spinster of a sister. 

You had entered the marriage mart, sure. Your first season came and went with nothing but uninteresting and shallow men at your door. 

“Not even one of them?” Julia had said, pressing you to take at least one visitor. 

“No,” You had replied, turning back out the window, “Send them away.”

“I’ll tell them,” Your sister had said sorrowfully. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to marry. Sure you did. Marriage between Julia and her husband, Matthew, was quite beautiful. He doted on her and she on him. He gave her anything and everything she wanted. She wanted to come stay with you and your father during your social seasons, and he allowed her. She wanted you to move in with them after your third season and he allowed it. She wants to go and see the world and leave the children with you and the staff for months on end and he goes with her. She lives a good life and you are so grateful to be able to peek in. 

Your sister often left you with her children and estate as she and Matthew went off to far lands and expensive travels. But you didn’t mind at all. Her children were delightful. You absolutely adored them. In order, it was Benjamin and then George and then Katherine and then the youngest, Ella. 

All of them were delightful and you loved them as if they were your own. Ben and George favored Matthew but Katherine and Ella were copies of you and Julia. They even had the same age gap. 

Julia was happy with her family and her husband, even if you find Matthew quite dull.

That’s the problem, you think. The men you’ve met have been quite dull. Conversations are all the same. Ranging from if you can play the pianoforte or if you can draw, nothing about your actual interests. You had grown bored of the marriage mart by your third season and stopped attending the balls and parties. Soon, the invitations stopped coming. 

You and Julia were sitting in the drawing room. Your nieces and nephews were all playing around the two of you, causing you and your sister to sit in the eye of the storm. You were reading a book, something by Shakespeare but you weren’t quite paying attention. Your niece, Katherine, was sitting at the pianoforte, trying desperately to play something pleasant and failing miserably. Your sister had just returned from a month long trip to Italy, having left you with the children and estate, as usual. 

“I think I’m going to host a ball,” Your sister’s voice pulled your attention from the empty words on the page. 

“What?” You said, placing the book face down on your lap. 

“Yes,” She said, her voice taking a thoughtful tone and her eyes growing wistful, “My time in Italy truly inspired me. They’re so free there, truly. They dance all night and wake up in the morning ready to do it all again,” She stopped to think and then turned back to you, “Yes. I’m going to host a ball, and there will be sprays of roses and begonias and lots of greenery, to transport me and all of us to Italy,” She clapped her hands together and stood, “Perfect. I was already growing quite bored.”

“Here?” You stood with her, your skirts ruffling and catching from standing so quickly. 

“Well, where else would I have it?” She asked you the question as if you were dumb. She started walking out of the drawing room, her heels clicking on the tile of the hallway, “Come, come, you will help me plan it!” She waved you on, moving you from your spot on the floor. 

“Julia, what about me? I don’t go to balls, I’m not a debutante anymore,” You said, silently begging her to not insist you come because if she insisted, you would go. 

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Julia waved a hand in the air, poking a head into the staff kitchen, no doubt looking for her housekeeper, Margaret, “Matthew and I will be the hosts and I am inviting you. You must come. And, since you are not a debutante, you will not be badgered by the men you so despise. I’m sure they will scurry away from you just fine, no avoidance needed,” Your sister had a way of saying things that made perfect sense and convincing you quite quickly. 

But a ball? That was the last thing you wanted to do. You have avoided them so successfully that people have stopped inviting you completely. That was the goal. It was perfect. You lived the great life of a pampered house cat and your nieces and nephews kept you sharp and entertained. You didn’t have to have painfully dull and long conversations with painfully unhandsome and dull men. 

However, now that you have been deemed a spinster by society, maybe the single bachelors would look the other way. You definitely didn’t look like a debutante anymore, you are more mature and grown than the young women chasing after young bachelors. You often dressed differently than the young women as well, your sister embracing your independence and desires to be comfortable. What would you wear? 

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The week that followed was a frenzy of glitter and colors and flowers. Your sister was absolutely in her element. She adored planning and being in charge. It was perfect for her. 

“Oh, Matthew!” Your sister came barreling into the drawing room, screaming and holding a piece of paper to her chest, “Your friend, Mr. Miller is coming into town, just in time for our ball!”

“Mr. Miller?” Matthew stood from his place on the couch next to George, “Oh, I haven’t heard from him in ages. What a treat.”

“It says right here he will be arriving tomorrow, if all goes perfectly well. Oh, I am positively overjoyed! Not only are we going to have a ball, but one of our most interesting friends is coming to visit!” She spun around with a smile on her face and Matthew smiled with her, as did you. Her joy was infectious. 

You had heard the two of them talk about Mr. Miller. A widowed father that lived on the opposite side of London. He was a successful businessman, owning multiple lumber companies and having fleets of ships to do his bidding. He hails all the way from America. Very interesting that he would want to settle here, especially since his daughter is also American, from what you hear. Hm. Maybe this ball wouldn’t be so dreadful, at least you could ask Mr. Miller questions about his life. 

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You wake the next morning with the estate abuzz. Even the staff dressing you can’t stop talking about your sister’s visitor from America. Don’t they know he’s not coming all the way from America? Anyway, you don’t stop their chittering or gossiping, you like to hear the rumors the staff start to, more entertaining to report to your sister and laugh about later. 

That is, until they insist your hair must be up for the new visitor. Wearing your hair up was positively dreadful as the pins poked and prodded your scalp. You refused and one of the younger maids frowned. 

“Pray tell,” You say, startling the maids, “Why must I wear my hair up for any old visitor? My hair is never put up in pins. Did Matthew or my sister have anything to do with you requesting this?” You scan each of their faces in the mirror, waiting for something to flash across any of them. 

“No, Miss,” They hung their heads in shame and you narrowed your eyes. 

“Then what is the point of dressing me so… well,” You peered down at the beautiful gown they dressed you in. This was not your typical everyday dress. 

“He’s a bachelor,” One of the younger maids blurted out. 

“Ah,” You smile in recognition. They wanted you and Mr. Miller to hit it off. “I will not wear my hair in any particular way just because the visitor is a bachelor, alright? I enjoy my hair being down and so I will leave it down. Besides, I’m not even truly available to men anymore, ladies. No need to impress them.”

The maids continued their work and you watched in the mirror as the shock at your refusal never quite left their eyes until they all filed out of the room. 

You look in the mirror before joining your sister and her family for breakfast and laugh slightly. Makeup was not something you wore regularly and this morning, your dressing maids had taken the liberty of putting some on you. How kind. 

You were still laughing when you entered the dining room for breakfast. 

“Oh my,” Julia watched you as you sat down next to her, “You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” You laughed again, “The staff wants me to marry this Mr. Miller.” 

“Oh,” Julia said, realization coloring her face, “Oh, makes more sense.” 

“Yes,” Matthew chimed in, digging into his breakfast and not particularly noticing you, “I heard some chatter about how you refused to put your hair up, yes?” 

“Yes,” You laugh again, taking a fork in your hand, “Oh, I guess good news travels fast.” 

You and Julia laugh together as you recount what you had heard them say about Mr. Miller and Julia took breakfast as an opportunity to gossip with the children about how rich Mr. Miller was. She even mentioned that Mr. Miller had a daughter that was to enter the marriage mart soon. Sarah, was her name. You listen as you eat your breakfast and soon find yourself floating from room to room, watching the staff flit about, still preparing for a ball and now a visitor. 

You wonder downstairs to where everything is coated in romantic flowers and greenery. You had to say, your sister had quite the eye for a ball. It was still your home and yet you felt as if you had been transported. She had done a truly wonderful job. You must remember to compliment her and Margaret. 

“Come now,” Julia’s hand slotted into your own, pulling you, “A carriage has pulled up and we must greet Mr. Miller.” 

Oh. 

The pressure of meeting this Mr. Miller slid off of you but you couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous. You’ve never met an American. 

You lined up with the rest of the family, standing between Margaret and Ella, your rightful place as the lady of the house’s sister. 

You cock your head as the most handsome man you’ve ever seen climbs out of the carriage. As he steps onto the ground, he smiles a warm smile towards Matthew and then turns again reaching a hand out to the carriage door to which a young girl allows him to help her out. She’s precious. Her dark curls framing her face and bouncing with her movements. 

“Mr. Miller,” Matthew announces, extending his arms. 

“Oh, no need for such formalities, old friend,” Mr. Miller rushes to Matthew and shakes his hand and then hugs him, laughing. His voice is deep and gravelly, but the smile on his face shoos away any sort of intimidation he might emit. 

“Mr. Miller,” Julia says fondly, “How wonderful to see you again.” “Lady Langford,” He extends a handshake to your sister, “You’ve added another one,” She looks to Ella, who’s standing proudly, smoothing her skirt a little. You smile, looking at her. Then, Mr. Miller looks at you and cocks his head slightly. “This,” Julia steps out of line and starts walking towards you, “Is my sister,” She takes your shoulders in her hands. “Hello,” You curtsy as best you can and smile at him, “Lovely to meet you.” 

The confidence Mr. Miller has falters slightly as he looks at you and he smiles politely. 

“Lovely to meet you as well,” He extends a hand, but not for a handshake. Instead, he grabs your hand and presses a gentle, quick kiss to your knuckles, returning your hand to its place at your side. 

“She’s unmarried,” Julia threw in, not so casually, “So, she resides with us and cares for the children while Lord Langford and I are away on holiday.”

“Oh, how I’ve missed English company,” He swiftly turns from you, smiling towards your sister. You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding as his gaze leaves your face. His casual, collected demeanor is a stark contrast to the emotions written across his face just moments before. Have you met before? Were you being rude in some way? Surely that isn’t just his face. 

“I’m Sarah,” His daughter’s melodic voice interrupted your train of thought as she curtsied to you, “Thank you Lady Langford for allowing us to visit.”

“Oh, of course!” Julia smiled from ear-to-ear at Sarah and then looked to Mr. Miller, “Come now, Lord Langford must surely want to give you both a tour.”

The four of them walked away, already chatting. You could have joined them for the tour of the estate but honestly, your brief interaction with Mr. Miller had thrown you for a loop. 

“Back into the house,” You placed a gentle hand on the backs of your nieces and nephews, “We will rejoin them for dinner, yes?”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀

As the few hours between Mr. Miller’s arrival and lunch passed on, you found yourself lost in thought wandering through the house again. You clutched a book in your hands but again, it was going unread. You couldn’t shake the thoughts of Mr. Miller. Of course, this was normal for anyone else. A strange visitor, a properly handsome one at that, with tales from America and you had barely scratched the surface. You allowed your mind to drift to daydreams of his American adventures as a businessman. Maybe he would have a tale of a daring adventure crossing the ocean. You thought of how he might look, a white billowy shirt on, see-through with water, pulling at heavy ropes and sails. You felt your chest grow hotter and you blushed at nothing. 

“Hello,” A deep, gravelly voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, completely startled. 

“Oh!” You turned toward the source and of course found Mr. Miller, “Mr. Miller, I see you’ve found,” You looked around quickly, taking in your surroundings, “The library. Lord and Lady Langford have quite the collection,” You tried your hardest to keep your voice steady but failed miserably. 

He smiled a gentle smile and looked around at the many books, taking steps into the room. 

“Yes,” He agreed, “Lady Langford showed me earlier. She enjoys a guest,” He looked at you again, your breath spilling out of you quickly. 

“Oh, she does indeed,” You smiled, dropping the book by your side. 

“You two are close, I presume?” His smile dropped as he turned towards you fully now, his broad frame appearing even broader as his jacket stretched across his large muscles. You allowed yourself a peak at his biceps and then met his eyes again, hoping he didn’t notice. 

“We are,” You said, a little too loudly. Why was he making you so nervous? “Best friends, we’d,” You faltered slightly, now answering the question truly instead of on auto-pilot, “We’d do anything for each other.” 

“Any other siblings?” He said, his arms still clasped at the hands in front of him. 

“No,” You replied, relaxing a bit into your stance, “Just us.” 

“Hm,” He said, in thought, turning away from you again and looking towards the books, “And these? These are your choices, I presume?” He motioned to the book in your hand.

“What?” You look down at the book in your hand, taking in the title quickly and looking back to Mr. Miller, “Yes, yes. I love to read. I love literature and an occasional poem.” 

“Really? I truly admire some of the new poets and their work. I actually just got back from France with Sarah where we met some wonderful new artists. Have you read anything recently published?”

“France? Wow. It must’ve been beautiful,” You mentally searched your mind for anything you’ve read that had been recently published, “On the Sea by John Keats.”

He nodded and smiled, “Yes,” He unclasped his hands and reached up to touch a book, “Quite a poet for someone your age.”

“Really?” You challenged, feeling your nerves melt away slightly, “Or is it just quite a poet for a woman?”

He laughed at that, retreating his hand from the shelf, “No, of course not. Just… I haven’t found someone under the age of thirty-five to read Keats.”

“Hm,” You purse your lips and return your attention to the book in your hand, “Well, I’d better go and get ready for dinner, it’s a formal occasion in this house.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from Lady Langford,” He smiled, almost laughing, “And, if you would, I’d love to discuss more poets with you. I have a female poet I think you’d love, if you like Keats.” 

You smile, almost blushing. 

“See you for dinner, Mr. Miller,” You turn on your heels out of the library, but not before allowing yourself a proper look at him. His dark hair was starting to curl at the edges, his graying beard was peppered across the bottom half of his face and his big, chocolate brown eyes were set in a permanent gentle smile. You committed the curves of his cheeks and regal nose to memory and allowed yourself to picture those brown eyes that night in bed as you lie awake. 

You smiled to yourself like an idiot as you let your mind wander to places that pictured you, Mr. Miller and Sarah all happily laughing and smiling at some sprawling estate. 

You silently begged yourself to find something wrong with him in the next coming days. 

You have never acted this way about a man, ever. But, they had never piqued your interest even slightly. 

Then, you silently hoped for a dream in which you and Mr. Miller were the main characters.

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Part 2 here!

[aswaki]

big mts [smt x reader]

seok matthew x reader | 1.5k word count | crack

“hanbin sets you up with his friend, ‘big mts’”

contains: short!reader, no gendered terms for reader, suggestive tone (at the end), cursing, blind date theme, family friend!hanbin, mention of choking, brief appearance of jiwoong

“sung hanbin, i am not going out with a guy called ‘big mts’,”

you gave the raven haired man in front of you a deadpan look. his phone was in your hand, a text notification displayed on the screen. it said, “i’m almost there!” and the sender’s name was indeed ‘big mts’.

okay— sung hanbin was a thoughtful person. you had never doubted that. not when he listened to your rants about how stagnant your life was on top of every other bullshit you’ve thrown his way. he made it his mission to be your guardian angel even when you didn’t ask him too. just like how he sent you to a string of blind dates.

it began when you were talking about how there was nothing exciting happening to you for the nth time. you had been so passionate in your rant; your face was flushed. your hands were moving as you talked. hanbin had been moved but jiwoong, who sitting beside him, was the opposite. he simply looked so done.

“you know what you need? you need to get fucked.” jiwoong had declared as he leaned forward. he put his hand on top of yours. a faux serious expression was painted on his features. you stopped ranting, obviously shocked at his words.

“hey!” hanbin slapped jiwoong’s arm. they did a slight stare off while you simply giggled at their antics.

“but you know… he’s not wrong. maybe you need to meet more people! not the fucking. do not listen to jiwoong. you don’t need to be fucking everyone.” his brotherly instincts coming out. his voice was almost far away. hanbin looked at you, deep in thought. you could almost see the gears working in his brain.

that was one random day a few months ago and then the rest was history. it led you to a series of hang outs and dates. you didn’t know hanbin knew that many people. most of these meet ups didn’t end well. you wondered if hanbin just had an ad of you on craigslist (especially with a date with that one person who you were sure you saw getting dogpiled on twitter before).

so it led you to today. earlier, you were over at hanbin’s apartment unit which was a few doors down from yours. you went there under the pretense of hanging out with him. when he opened the door at you, he merely declared, “you look terrible. go change.”

he pushed you out and led you back to your unit. you look down at your sweats. is it not acceptable to be in comfortable clothes on chill days? you opened your mouth to protest but he beat you to it, “you are going on a date!”

“not again!” you screamed.

you removed yourself from his hold and ran to your door. you were not going to lose a couple precious hours of your friday to go with a possible insufferable person you just met.

you felt victorious escaping hanbin. you sighed in relief as you put the key in your doorknob. the door opened with ease but before you could close it on hanbin, he caught up with you. he easily slid right in. oh, curse his long legs. you could only glare at him. the universe was unfair for giving him tall genes but skipped it on you.

hanbin called you by your full name and said, “you are going to change and go on this date. don’t you disappoint me.”

“do i have too? you know what happened the previous times. just give up.” you whined at him. seriously, you were convinced he was bored too, that's why he was trying to play cupid.

“go. change.” he told you as he placed his hand on your shoulders and directed you to your room. the both of you were really close, almost like siblings. you tried to be childish and put all your weight on your feet to stop you from moving. your attempts only failed.

“i swear, this time is different! he’s my friend. he’s really nice and adorable. you’d love him. he just came back from canada. that should be interesting enough for you. go talk about maple syrup or something.” you turned around and gave him a blank stare. 

“okay, maybe not maple syrup,” he backtracked, “but please, please. i showed my friend your photo already. he thought you were cute! if this doesn’t work out, i’ll lay off but he’s already on his way so you need to change!”

your eyes widened. this person thought you were cute? and already on his way? jesus, hanbin knew how to get you working. this person could be a freak but he did say you were cute. you knew hanbin could also be pulling things out his ass but hey, flattery works.

“fine. this is the last one.” you gave in. hanbin nodded excitedly. you went to your room to quickly change your outfit and prepare yourself. you wanted to exceed expectations. this was hanbin’s mysterious friend. you can’t afford to look stupid. plus, given the previous statistics, this could mean this would be your last blind date for a while. you weren’t hoping this would be it. you just wanted to get this over with. you didn’t think it was bad wanting to look good to celebrate the end of hanbin’s crazy project. an end of an era.

you looked at the mirror satisfied with your look. when you stepped out of your bedroom, hanbin wasn’t in your living room. his phone, however, was. it lit up signaling a message came in. you picked it up, scoffing at what you saw. he texted he was close by already but what got to you was the bold letters, ‘big mts’ that flashed on the screen above his message. you thought it sounded obnoxious. you didn’t want to be with someone obnoxious, even for a brief moment.

hanbin came out of the bathroom. before he could express approval at your outfit, you marched over at him and shoved his phone to his face. “wha-”

“sung hanbin, i am not going out with a guy called ‘big mts’. i draw the line here.”

he merely laughed at your words and at the look you sent his way. he knew you were going to give him another one of your rants.

you wiggled the phone in front of his face then you sucked in a deep breath before yapping, “he sounds repulsive. how could you be friends with him? what kind of nickname is that? who calls himself that? do you really want to send poor little me with a person who seems to be as ridiculous and egotistical as ‘big mts’? nevermind that he called me cute. are you even listening? stop laughing. i will call your mom.”

like a spirit drawn to the pleas of mortals, the doorbell rang interrupting your spiel. you sighed in defeat knowing ‘big mts’ is here. hanbin turned to walk over to your front door. you followed close behind him.

“seriously, hanbin, can’t we just ignore him? what kind of name is ‘big mts’?” you huffed as the doorbell rang again.

“you’ll see,” he cryptically replied. hanbin opened the door. he greeted his friend enthusiastically— “matthew!” —they hugged each other. when they pulled away from the hug, hanbin revealed someone who was not as repulsive as you thought.

you wish you could eat your words.

standing right there by your door was a man. he had a well bulked up build. a silver chain adorned his neck. his biceps were exposed by his sleeveless top. his chest stretching his shirt out. thoughts were racing in your head and none of them were pg rated. it wasn't your fault he had a very big... heart. you could only hope you didn’t look pathetic right now checking him out. you understood why he was ‘big mts’. you could see it with your own eyes. you wondered what else is big...

hanbin stifled a chuckle as he nudged you. well, shit, you probably did look pathetic right now.

“hi i’m matthew.” he said, looking at you with an amused smile. his adorable smile was a stark contrast to his body. holy fuck, you felt so shallow right now.

you looked down as he extended his hand at you. even his hands looked good. it would've looked even better if it was around your neck. (but what would be best if it was his biceps choking you.)

ah, you were about to cry. you were the freak, not him.

you grabbed his hand and shook it with no hesitation. you enjoyed his warm smooth skin. “you ready to go?” he asked after you shook hands.

“yes! i am! let’s go!” you replied with much eagerness that surprised all three of you. matthew nodded a goodbye to hanbin.

“jiwoong’s right,” you muttered to hanbin as you gave him a hug of thanks and farewell. hallelujah to the caring, determined (and nosy) sung hanbin for introducing you to his friend.

you gave a matthew a brief look, eyes moving over his handsome face and mouthwatering form, before whispering again to hanbin, “oh, i’m so going to fuck him.”

a/n: tgif! here's a silly little fic as dialogue practice because i truly feel my forte isn't with dialogues. i was actually writing another fic during my break earlier but then i decided to do this. when i remembered hanbin has matthew saved as big mts on his phone, it went downhill from that. i also didn't plan on posting this because i only wanted to put all my smut brainrot in this blog but then eh. sorry for my attempts at humour btw??? might do a part two if anyone wants???? smut???

divider credit: saradika-graphics

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

☁️ - fluff 🙈 - angst ‼️ - smut

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[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

Y'know, for a series that's themed so heavily around deception, misplaced trust, and things not being as great as they seem, it's so interesting to me how we have a total of three characters who have stories that involve a powerful, wealthy individual manipulating them and causing them or their loved ones harm during times of financial struggle or straight-up poverty XF-Ture Tech greeted the impoverish Jeung family with the offer to pay off all of their expenses, only at the cost of their daughter, Min, becoming the Ultimate Student 12 years down the line. This led Min from ages five to seventeen to work away her entire life to achieve this goal, turning her into the perfect image of an Ultimate that Hope's Peak Academy wanted to see, at the cost of her childhood and her autonomy.

Min: I don't know why that man would sponsor some random child, nor why it would be me of all people. And I never had the time nor space to figure out the answer to that question. Min: Failure was not something I even considered, because if I failed, then there would be no future for me or my family. Min: I had simply accepted for my whole life that I would be the Ultimate Student, and I lived my life accordingly. That's why the Academy chose me.

The Lacroix family was sent into a river of debt by their daughter Rose, and when all hope seemed to be lost, Richard Spurling offered to clear her charges and pay off her fines if she decided to work under him as a painter for the Spurling Foundation. Any semblance of herself in Rose's works has now dissipated, her sense of identity only tied to the contract she signed with an angelic devil.

Rose: Forever working to pay off my mistakes, and never being able to call my art my own... This isn't the life of an artist that I wanted. It's not what anyone would want. Rose: All I do is make paintings on others' beck and call. It's been so long that I don't think I remember how to paint something original anymore. Rose: That spark of vitality is missing from anything I make. Like this painting. And I can't help but feel like I'm missing a part of myself.

Little is known about the details of Xander's story at this time, but we know enough to know that he falls into this category too. The Matthews family lived in a town with an understaffed hospital and a river as their only water source, leaving them unprepared for an incident that would gruesomely wipe them out. Meanwhile, Duke Spurling, a wealthy man in extreme power being a politician, who instead of using his power for good was, from what we can tell, sitting on his dollar bills while the innocents around him lost function in their limbs.

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It's just really interesting to me how this is a theme across all three characters, and I can't help but wonder if this will carry over to some of the other characters as well.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 1 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Your Step Father would like to introduce you into high society but you're required to take lessons to learn how to play the part and from your instructor's perspective it seems like you have a lot of catching up to do. Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Explicit Language, not really anything else at this point lol a/n: Planning on turning this into a short series so please let me know what you think <3 p.s. this is horribly edited and was written in one sitting lol

"Why do I have to suffer the consequences of the decisions you made for this family?" I say chasing after my mother as she walks down the main hallway in our new home. "Y/n becoming a debutant is not a consequence" she says, making her way into the main living room.

"To me it is" I complain, dreading this entire ordeal already. "The whole process only lasts about a year so-" "A year? You expect me to be parade around in pretty dresses and entertain people I have absolutely no interest in just because you decided to marry a rich man? Yeah, no I'm not doing it" I say, watching as she takes a seat on the couch waiting for me to tell her my grievances, knowing that I won't back down easily. 

"It's not a huge commitment I promise. You'll have etiquette lessons twice a week, go to a fitting every once in a while and take dance lessons once a week. I'm sure you can sacrifice a few hours out of your week for this. "Your father wa-" "Step father" I cut her off, making my stance on the man known. "Your step father wants to introduce you as his daughter and the best way to do so would be having you come out at a debutant ball" she explains hoping to show me their reasoning behind it. "Oh I'm straight so don't worry I won't be needing a coming out event or anything like that" I say teasing her. 

"Very funny" she says clearly unamused, "I would really appreciate it if you just did this for us, and if you don't want to do it for us then do it for you, for your future. Do you know how pivotal this moment could be for you? A lot of important people go to these balls so if you want to make a name for yourself in this city then that's a great place to start" she says hoping to entice me, showing how this could benefit me as well. "Just think about it, okay?" she says standing up to leave the room and placing a hand on my shoulder as a sign of reassurance, leaving me conflicted. 

A few days later at the breakfast table I finally decide to give them my answer. "Um, dad" I say hoping to get his attention. "Yes honey?" he says putting down the newspaper that he had just been flipping through. "I think I want to go through with the whole debutant thing if you still wanted me to" I say playing with my sleeve, still unsure of the choice I've made but I guess theres no going back now. "That's great! I'll contact the agency and get all of your lessons set up straight away" he says quickly texting his assistant, asking them to get things set in motion.

"Would you prefer private lessons or would you like to take them with some of the other girls that are preparing to come out as well?" he questions, still looking down at his phone. "Oh it's okay don't worry about getting her pri-" "Private lessons would be great" I say cutting my mom off. The less interactions I can have with these spoiled rich kids, the better. I send her a tight lipped smile, telling her to back off before I change my mind and she does just that. 

"Alright, I have Matthew working on it now so we could probably get everything set up by the time your classes end. You finish up at four right?" he asks, catching me off guard, "You know my class schedule?" I question. "Of course I do! What kind of father would I be if I didn't pay attention to my daughter's academics?" he says, giving me a warm smile before taking one last sip of his coffee, standing up to go. 

"I've gotta head off, love you" he says giving my mother a quick peck and then coming over to me to give me a kiss on the top of my head. "Have a good day you two" he says to us as his final adieu, heading out to where his driver is waiting for him. "Thank you" my mother says, happy with the effort I'm putting into assimilating our family. "I'm doing this for you guys, but I'm also doing this for me like you had said, I guess I'll just have to suffer through it for the next year" I say, already questioning myself. 

"I promise you won't regret it!" she reassures me, reaching out for my hand across the table and I mirror her action. 'I sure hope not' I say to myself and give her a pained smile before leaving to head off to class. 

"You're what?" my friend Jesse say, not believing a word I just said. "I'm gonna start taking lessons to become a debutante" I say, repeating myself, hoping he'll just take in the information so we can move past it. "So you're blowing me off so you can go to Barbie school?" he says, still in disbelief. "It's not Barbie school" I say rolling my eyes at him before sitting down at the table we usually hang out at during our breaks. 

"Aren't they going to be dressing you up and making you all girly so you can go to tea parties and balls?" he questions, sitting across from me. "Yes..." I say trailing off not being able to prove him wrong. "Barbie school" he says satisfied with himself, taking a bite out of the apple he had just bought for dramatic affect. "Whatever" I say crossing my arms across my chest. "So when do you start?" he asks, suddenly curious about the topic. "Matthew sent me a text with the address I'm supposed to go to for my first etiquette lesson so I guess I'll be headed there after class. 

"And Matthew is...?" he questions, "My dad's assistant, I've told you this like five times already" I say rolling my eyes at him. "I'm sorry okay, there have been a lot of changes in your life and brand new characters added to the cast so it's hard to keep it all straight" he explains. "Name one other person besides Matthew that I've told you about" I say with a raised brow, curious as to who these 'new characters' might be. "Your step dad" he says proudly, not elaborating further. 

"Anyone else?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the cop out answer he gave me and he decides to sit in silence after putting little to no thought into anyone else I might've told him about. "Do you even know his name?" I scoff, feigning irritation. "Scott? No Thomas!" he says confident in his second answer. "It's James" I say standing up and grabbing my stuff so I can walk towards my next class. 

"I'm sorry, you know I have shit memory" he says throwing his arm around my shoulder after catching up to me, having only been a few steps behind. "I know" I shake my head laughing it off, "It's funny how clueless you are sometimes" I say, shrugging his arm off of me. "Hey!" he whines, semi offended. "It's okay though, I still love you" I say waving him off as we part in different directions and blowing a kiss at him which he bats off to the side, rejecting my love. "Later loser" he says and we head off to our respective classes.

After the lecture is finally over my professor calls me to the front. "Yes?" I question, waiting for what he has to tell me. "I read your paper last night" he starts, "I'm sorry Professor I had some other assignments due at the same time so I wasn't able to put in as much effort as I wanted to" I confess feeling guilty about putting that assignment on the back burner. "Well I was actually going to tell you that I was rather impressed with it" he says looking up at me from his seated position at his desk, fixing his glasses. 

"Really?" I question, surprised that it was good enough for him to even single out. "I wanted to ask if you would be interested in participating in this writing contest at the end of next month" he proposes and hands me the flyer showing all of the details. "You really think my writing is good enough?" I question, not even having considered signing up for something like this. "I wouldn't be speaking to you about it if I didn't think it was" he says laughing at my reactions. 

"This would be amazing thank you!" I say starting to skim through the details real quick. "You can take that with you if you'd like" he offers and at that I nod in thanks and say my goodbyes before walking out and heading out towards my car. 

"Now where exactly is this place?" I ask myself aloud, pulling up the text I got and putting the address into my gps. "45 minutes?" I say in astonishment, now slightly panicked seeing that even if I leave now I'll still be 10 minutes late. "What the hell Matthew?" I curse and put my seatbelt on, speeding out of the parking lot and down the street, praying that I'll be able to somehow shave a few minutes off the eta to make it in time.

"Punctuality is one of the most important aspects of proper etiquette" I hear the man say to me with his back turned as I walk into the area of his home he has dedicated to these lessons. "I'm very sorry I did not realize how far these lessons would be in relation to my University" I apologize hating that I've already made a bad impression which has clearly started us off on the wrong foot. 

"Proper planning is also something you must consider to be able to maintain a certain sense of decorum before arriving to your intended destination" he says still with his back to me. "I apologize again Mr. Jeon it won't happen again" I say using what I hope is the proper way he would like to be addressed. "See that it doesn't" he says finally turning around to face me. I nod my head in acknowledgement and he gives me a sour look showing he's displeased with my response. 

"One must verbally respond to properly communicate with one another" he says, placing his hands behind his back and interlocking his fingers while walking towards me and stalking around me like a predator sizing up his prey. "Understood" I respond and once he finally comes back around facing me he looks me up and down one last time before uttering another word. 

"For your next lesson be sure to come in a dress or skirt that sits at the knee as well as stockings and heels of some sort and a blouse of course to pair with the skirt. If one wants to act like a lady, one must dress like a lady" he says and turns away to grab something in the corner of the room. "Noted" I say under my breath already exasperated, "What was that?" he questions looking over his shoulder at me, sorting through a few books to bring over. "Understood Mr. Jeon" I say, trying to play along and follow his rules.

"Seeing as we need to start from the very beginnings of the art of etiquette I need you to read these books by this time next week" he says handing me five very large books weighing my arms down and requiring me to stumble back to regain my balance. "All of them in a week? That's almost a book a day!" I say surprised by the workload I've been given after not even starting the actual lesson yet.

"I was not aware of the fact I would be required to teach you everything from the very start so let's just say we both have a lot of work to do" he says and motions towards a place I can set my purse down along with my five new headaches for this next week.

"Take a seat here please" he now motions to a chair that he has placed in the middle of the room waiting for me to do as he says. I walk up cautiously and take a seat, sitting on it like I normally would, knowing that he's meant to critique how I sit to change it. "Sit up straight, roll your shoulders back" he says taking in my posture at all angles while I follow along with his orders. "Loosen the tension in your back and shoulders" he says placing his hands on my shoulders from behind making me tense up even more from the unexpected contact. 

"You've done the opposite of what I've asked you to" he says and I can hear how fed up with me he continues to be. "You startled me, I didn't realize you were going to do that" I say under my breath but loud enough for him to hear. "One must never mumble or talk back to anyone no matter the circumstances. Especially aimed to or in front of an authority figure" he says and walks back around to face me again. "So you see yourself as an authority figure to me?" I question, curious to see what his answer might be.

"I see myself as someone who deserves your respect and obedience" he says and tilts my chin up with his pointer finger maintaining purposeful eye contact. "And you will treat me as such". 

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[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 30]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 2.5k

ao3 link

A breeze rolls down the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and you tug your sleeves up to cover your hands to try to fight off the chill it sends through you. To your right, Karen’s long hair whips around her shoulders and she does not at all seem bothered by it as she continues on with her story. 

“So, we went back to the first bakery, and luckily, the lady there had seen it and took it behind the counter before anyone could snatch it up. Not that anyone would want a piece of shit flip phone, but still, having it floating around wouldn’t be the wisest thing.”

“Frank doesn’t seem like the forgetful type,” you comment, your lips turning down into a frown. The man who is the Punisher always seems so on top of everything whenever you see him, so the idea that he just left his phone on a table is very out of character to you. 

Karen huffs, “Oh, he isn’t, but that is the danger of a concussion. You have to keep an eye out.” 

You take the warning and mentally store it with a note to do a lot of research on the subject. You have already started a first-aid binder with step-by-step instructions for different types of injuries. You are going to have to have a full ‘chapter’ on concussions - it will match the one you’ve already done for minor stitches and wound cleaning. Soon enough, you are going to have a fully detailed guide and you will probably end up printing out copies for both Foggy and Karen as a just in case.

“I’m guessing having a helmet doesn’t help at all with that problem?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

The blonde gives you a side-eyed look before dryly replying, “he might as well be wearing the scarf.”

You shake your head fondly. So far, Matt hasn’t had any head injuries that you are aware of, but you’ve seen other bruises he’s gotten. Maybe his armor is in need of an upgrade. 

“How did the rest of the day go?” 

Karen just barely ducks her chin and this sweet, soft little smile forms on her face as stroll down the sidewalk, “it was really good. It was good to get out of the city, even just for a few hours. To pretend to be normal, you know? The market was nice - Max had a lot of fun. He got pretty spoiled in the treat department. Didn’t you, boy?” 

You both look down to the dog walking at her heel. Realizing attention is now on him, he looks up with his big square head and gives a wide doggy smile, his tail starting to go back and forth. You laugh at his sweetness.

“I bet he did. He’s a good boy.” 

Max is a very good boy - for your park trip today, Karen had joined you and Minnie had spent a good hour and a half playing with him. He had happily followed her all over the playground, going through tunnels and down slides until your daughter completely wore herself out. She passed out as soon as she had been secured into her stroller and now you and Karen were enjoying some Girl Time. 

“Did you get spoiled?” you follow up, curious if Karen bought anything for herself at the vintage market. You know she is looking for some new furniture pieces after some were ‘destroyed’ and you want to live a bit vicariously through her purchases. 

You don’t know if it was the tone of your voice or if her mind was elsewhere, but Karen says your name a bit scandalously before delving into giggles. Your cheeks heat up instantly and you start shaking your head.

“That isn’t what I meant!”

“Are you sure? Because I did get pretty Spoiled,” she teases, shimmying her shoulders for emphasis. You have to bite your lip, so you don’t burst into laughter. You haven’t had someone to just gossip and chat with in so long, but it is so easy to fall into a rhythm with Karen. She’s kind and has a good heart and you don’t need to hide anything from her - plus, she has so much boldness it counters your anxiety and meekness in such a good way. 

You are starting to think she might actually end up being a real friend to you as opposed to just a friend of Matt’s. 

“Or should I say, Frank did. Wait, look.” 

You pause as she pulls out her phone and begins tapping at it. You idly rock the stroller as you wait and a few moments later, Karen is handing you her phone. 

“Oh my God, Karen, you look at you!” you gasp as you almost unashamedly ogle the mirror selfie she is showing you. She is all dolled up to look like a vintage pin-up girl - her hair is curled and pinned, she’s got on bright red lipstick and has a sexy little cat eye, and she is in a set of deep blue lingerie complete with garters and sheer stockings. You can tell it was taken before her outing, as you can see the dress she wore laid out on the bed behind her. “You look hot as hell!”

“Thank you,” she preens as you return her phone. “Frank thought so as well.” 

“Did you send him that?” 

She laughs and shakes her head, “No, it was a surprise. But next time he’s out of town, I might send it as a little reminder to not use his head as a weapon.”

“That would be a good motivation,” you tell her as you begin walking again and you both fall into a fit of giggles. You can just imagine Karen sending the image off with a stern warning about being safe.

“Do you have any pictures of you in your dress?” Karen suddenly asks and you find yourself heating up again. 

While you think you looked pretty in the dress Matt had bought you for your date, you looked nowhere near as stunning as Karen did for hers. You had been so nervous about meeting the dress code that you had gone the minimalist route and taking a mirror selfie hadn’t even crossed your mind - you had no one to show it off to anyways. 

However, Minnie had insisted on taking a picture of you with Matt before you left for the night - a horror that reminded you of girls being ushered in front of doors for homecoming pictures. It wasn’t the most glamorous thing and Matt looked about a million times better than you. Nonetheless, you bring up the photo - shot from Minnie’s low point of view and at a Dutch angle - and hand over your phone.

Karen instantly cooes.

“You look stunning. Matt is going to want to frame this.” 

“I doubt he remembers we took it,” you mumble out, “It was a little hectic trying to leave. Minnie was so excited.”

“Of course she was,” Karen says as she gives you back your phone. “It was your first date! Matt was so giddy on Friday; it was so cute. I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before.” You feel her give you a look over then her voice drops to something a bit softer, “We dated, for a minute, before everything started to go sideways. He was cool and charming and nothing like he is when he’s with you. I envy you for that.”

You stop mid step and look with wide eyes at her, shocked by the new information. You had no idea they had previously had a relationship and insecurity bubbles in your stomach.

“You dated..?”

Karen nods, then gently hooks her arm with yours and nudges you to continue walking. 

“Just before the firm shut down - before Frank’s trial. It was...complicated. I didn’t know who he was, then. He was lying and hurting us - hurting me. He was focused on something else and once we started really getting the trial and…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Everything was a mess. He was a mess. We couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust him. I was in over my head with Frank’s case. Once that was over, and what he had going on was done, that was the end. It had nothing to do with the Devil and everything to do with him.” 

Your heart sinks and a tightness gathers in your throat. You are well aware Matt has had problems in the past regarding his second life clashing with his personal one, but you didn’t think it involved dating his co-worker and friend. You can hear the emotion in Karen’s voice - the hurt and the resolved anger and pain - and you don’t want to be you in a few years. 

You want to trust Matt.

Karen, as if sensing your discomfort, squeezes your arm. “That’s why I envy you. He’s trying so hard to be good enough - to not put you through what he did with us. I know there isn’t a storm surrounding us to make the boats rock right now, but when one comes, and there will always be a storm with this life, I don’t think he’s going to repeat his mistakes. Or I hope he won’t, because God knows I’ll shoot him myself if he does.” 

The words dig into your soul and part of you wants to shatter over how wrong she is. She sounds so confident in her words, but you know they aren’t true. 

“Karen, he’s being better for his daughter. He wants to be good for her. He wants to be a good father.” 

Karen tsks out your name, “You don’t really believe that do you? He glows when he talks about you. He was practically walking on air yesterday telling us about your dinner. And you can’t tell me that That,” she gestures to the ruby hanging from your neck, “is anything less than a confession.”

Your hand darts up to wrap around the pendant as blood starts to pound in your ears. You remember exactly how you felt when he had given it to you. 

You had felt special.

You had felt Wanted. 

((“I love you.”))

((“I’m yours.”))

((“I love you.”))

You quickly shake your head, “you’re looking into it too much. He said he wanted to make up for the dates he missed, of course he made it grand. He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t, pardon the expression, look at me twice if it weren’t for Minnie.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t true, considering you wouldn’t have Minnie if he hadn’t ‘looked’ at you.” 

You keep your eyes down, looking at the top of the stroller as you walk. Your desire to be wanted clashes with your self-doubt but you know you can’t let it win. 

You can’t let yourself be hurt like Karen says she was hurt. 

“It isn’t like that…” you whisper, and you feel Karen’s shoulders drop. She squeezes your arm again, but she doesn’t push the conversation. You walk in silence for the rest of the block, coming to a stop at a crosswalk, and you mentally tell yourself to get out of your head. 

You’ve known the truth, and you’ve accepted it - there is no need for you to be gloomy. 

Not when you are out having a nice time with a potential friend.

You force your gaze back up and focus it across the street, determined to come up with a new topic of discussion. As you wait for the light to change, you catch sight of a television in the window of the bodega on the corner.

Your lips dip into a scowl as Tony Stark sits at a roundtable, surrounded by people you have seen dominate the news lately, gesturing wildly while a ticker crawls across the bottom of the screen. You don’t need to be close enough to read it to know what it says - ‘the Enhanced debate’. 

You absolutely hate all the fear mongering the news has been doing and the narrative the country has taken. It reminds you of so many horrible stories you heard about in history class, and you cannot believe the discussions being had. 

But it is not hard for you to believe that people like Stark are advocating for there to be some sort of registry. He is at the top of the totem pole, and no one will come for him - and if they do, he can get out of it, as seen by his Committee Hearings years ago. You’ve heard his talking points about oversight and collateral damage and think it is all ridiculous. 

It is all ‘regulations for thee and none for me’. 

The light finally turns green, and you and Karen cross the street. As you pass the television, you glare at it, eyes going right to the Mayor of New York who is nodding along with Stark. You regret voting for him.

“I can’t believe they are proposing that shit,” Karen spits and you turn to see her looking just as angry as you feel. “Going after innocent people instead of the people who are actually dangerous. They just sit on their asses theorizing about potential destruction while real people are being hurt. They could go after drugs or guns or the predatory policies on housing, but no, that hurts their bottom line. They’d rather talk about gathering the DNA of newborns to test.”

Your stomach turns at the thought of a doctor taking Minnie’s blood and running it through one of Stark’s proposed machines. You know she has abilities, but would her DNA show her as an Enhanced? Would Matt’s? 

You know it is all beyond unethical - but when has the government ever cared about ethics? Everyone knows very well now, thanks to the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., that the everyday person is being watched to the nth degree. None of them have any problem looking into your phones or emails - why would they care about looking at your blood. 

It is all about threat detection to them. 

You bite your lip before admitting, “I’m more worried about what happens after they do the testing.” You tighten your grip on the stroller and drop your voice. “What if they try to take Minnie away?”

The words don’t even finish leaving your lips before Karen is giving you a hard look, with equally hard words, “Matt would never allow that. You would never allow that. Me and Foggy wouldn’t allow that, and Frank certainly would not allow it. You know we would fight it tooth and nail in court and out of it. No one is coming near you or your daughter.”

You look back to the faces of the men who are trying to destroy your small world and wonder if the Devil really could take them all on. 

You pray to God you will never have to find out. 

--

:)

--

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[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between the Ropes: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 39: Make you understand what the fuck is going on, pt. 3

December 31st, 2024 6:58 PM IAH Airport

Rhea smiled as Jeyce yelled “BONUS MOMMY!” while running toward her with his backpack bouncing on his back. Jaciyah followed closely behind, his bags swinging as he hurried to catch up. Rhea knelt down and lifted Jeyce into her arms, enveloping him in a big hug.

“Look at my shirt!” Jeyce exclaimed, beaming with pride as he pulled at the hem of his shirt to show it off. Rhea’s eyes lit up as she saw the vintage Monday Night Mami logo emblazoned across his chest.

“I love it!” she exclaimed, giving him an enthusiastic squeeze before setting him down.

Jey, leaning against the airport railing with a casual grin, ruffled Jeyce’s hair as he said, “We’re going to a party with Damian tonight. Are you guys ready for some fun?”

Jeyce’s eyes widened with excitement. “What are we going to do at the party?”

Jaciyah chimed in, his face lighting up. “Is Liv Morgan going to be there?”

Rhea laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What do you want with my best friend?” she teased.

Jaciyah shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “I just wanna meet her!”

“Uh-huh,” Jey said, crossing his arms with a knowing smile. “Just wanna meet her, huh?”

“She’s 30 years old, you know,” Rhea added, unable to hold back her amusement.

“I’m a few months shy of 18!” Jaciyah protested, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Just a few?” Jey replied, smirking at his son. “You’ve got to remember to keep it appropriate, alright?”

Jaciyah sighed but nodded. “Fine, fine. I’ll just be cool.”

“Just be yourself,” Rhea advised, glancing at Jey with a wink. “And if Liv’s there, maybe she’ll be cool about taking a picture with you.”

Jeyce tugged at Rhea’s sleeve, interrupting their playful banter. “Can we play games too? I wanna do the dance party thing!”

Rhea chuckled. “Absolutely! I’m sure there will be plenty of games. Let’s just make sure we don’t keep everyone waiting.”

As they made their way to the car, Jey looked down at Jeyce and said, “You ready to show everyone your moves tonight?”

Jeyce nodded enthusiastically, and Rhea felt her heart swell with happiness. New Year’s Eve was always special, but this year, it felt particularly vibrant with her family by her side. The laughter and excitement were a reminder of the love they shared, and Rhea couldn’t wait to ring in the new year together.

—

Flashback - Survivor Series: WarGames (November 25, 2023)

Survivor Series: WarGames was in full effect. The air was thick with excitement as fans filled the arena, eagerly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold. Backstage, Jey Uso and Cody Rhodes were busy warming up by Cody’s bus, their bodies stretching and their minds focused on the strategy for their upcoming match.

As they exchanged thoughts about how to execute their plan once Randy showed up, a sudden rise in voices caught their attention. Curious, they paused their conversation and leaned closer to the bus to listen. The scene unfolding before them was both familiar and unsettling.

There stood Rhea Ripley, dressed in her striking ring gear, her demeanor fierce and confident. However, the tension in the air was palpable as her fiancé, Matthew Addams, confronted her about her choice of attire. Matthew held a pair of black chaps in his hand, his face a mix of frustration and authority as he pointed out the white gear Rhea intended to wear.

“You don’t like it when I dress like a man, you don’t like it when I dress like a woman,” Rhea shot back, her voice edged with irritation. “You don’t like any fucking thing I want to wear.”

“Just wear these,” Matthew insisted, shoving the chaps into her hands. His tone shifted from annoyed to domineering as he added, “You always feel the need to show your fucking ass with that pretzel pin.”

Rhea’s expression hardened. “I’m with you, man! We’re supposed to be married in a few months, and I love you, but this protectiveness has got to stop!”

Cody and Jey exchanged worried glances, their concern growing with each heated word. “I think that’s possessiveness,” Cody whispered to Jey, his voice low but laced with disquiet.

Jey nodded silently, his gut tightening as he witnessed Rhea, usually so assertive, appear cornered by Matthew’s overbearing demeanor. “If she was my wife, I would let her wear whatever the fuck she wants to wear,” Jey muttered under his breath.

Cody agreed, his brow furrowed in concern. As the argument escalated, Rhea took the chaps and defiantly walked away from Matthew, her posture radiating determination. “It’s for our relationship!” Matt yelled after her, but Rhea continued walking, refusing to engage any further.

Jey and Cody exchanged glances, realizing they needed to make themselves scarce as Matthew’s anger flared. They quickly ducked into the bus, hearts racing as they heard Matthew’s voice grow more agitated.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Matthew called out, turning toward the bus just as Jey and Cody hid underneath the table. They held their breaths, straining to listen to the unfolding confrontation.

“Rhea!” Matthew shouted, frustration evident in his voice. “You can’t just walk away like this! You need to listen to me!”

The tension in the air was thick as Jey and Cody remained hidden, exchanging worried glances. They could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on them, a mix of concern for Rhea and uncertainty about the nature of Matthew’s protectiveness.

Cody whispered, “What do you think we should do?”

Jey shook his head, still focused on the scene outside. “We wait. She needs to handle this herself. But we’re not letting this go unnoticed.”

As they sat in the dimly lit space beneath the table, the muffled sounds of the argument echoed around them. Rhea’s voice broke through the tension, steady and clear. “I can take care of myself, Matt. I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

The resolve in her words provided a moment of relief for Jey and Cody, but they remained acutely aware of the complexities unfolding before them. As the argument continued, it became clear that the dynamics of Rhea and Matthew’s relationship were far more complicated than they had initially realized.

Jey felt a surge of protectiveness for Rhea, knowing that this moment would leave a lasting impression on all of them. He silently vowed to keep an eye on her, determined to ensure that the woman he admired would always have the space to be herself, free from the shadows of control.

Matthew leaned in closer, his tone taking on a softer edge, almost pleading. “Look, Rhea, I get it. You want to express yourself, and that’s cool. But you need to understand that there are people out there who won’t see you for who you really are. They’ll just see you as a pretty face and nothing more. I don’t want that for you.”

Rhea’s heart sank at his words, confusion swirling in her mind. “But I’m not just a pretty face, Matt. I’m a wrestler, and I’m good at what I do. I want to be respected for my talent, not just my looks.”

“I know you’re talented,” he replied, reaching out to cup her face with his hand, a gesture that should have been comforting but felt heavy instead. “But I’m your fiancé. It’s my job to protect you, to make sure that no one takes advantage of your talent or your looks. When you wear those revealing outfits, it puts a target on your back.”

Rhea felt a twinge of guilt, as if she was somehow responsible for how others perceived her. “So, you think I should change who I am to make you feel better?” she asked, her voice shaky. “That’s not fair.”

Matthew sighed, frustration creeping back into his voice. “It’s not about changing who you are; it’s about being smart. You have to think about the consequences of your choices. I’m just looking out for you, Rhea. That’s what love is about.”

“Love shouldn’t feel like a prison,” Rhea shot back, her heart pounding as she took a step back. But as she met his gaze, doubt seeped back in. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was just trying to protect her.

“Just wear the chaps,” he insisted, pushing them into her hands once more. “You’ll see. I’ll feel better knowing you’re covered up a bit. It’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Rhea looked down at the black chaps, feeling the weight of his gaze on her. “Fine,” she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll put them on.”

With a heavy heart, Rhea turned away to change, feeling the walls closing in on her. The moment felt like a surrender, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing part of herself. Meanwhile, Jey and Cody, who had been hiding under the table, exchanged worried glances as they listened to the exchange.

Once they were sure Matthew and Rhea were out of earshot, Cody nudged Jey. “This isn’t good. She fucking believed his bullshit.”

Jey nodded, a fire igniting within him. “We can’t let this go on. We need to talk to her. She needs to hear it from her friends, not just us.”

“Exactly,” Cody agreed, determination lining his voice. “I’ll talk to Damian and Finn. They need to know what’s going on, and maybe they can help get through to her.”

“Good idea,” Jey replied, his eyes narrowing in focus. “She deserves to know that she can wear whatever the hell she wants without being told what to do. She needs to feel empowered again.”

Just then, they heard Rhea’s voice coming from the other side of the bus. “Alright, I’m ready!”

Jey and Cody quickly ducked back behind the table, waiting to see how things unfolded. They watched as Rhea stepped back out, the chaps hugging her legs, a forced smile plastered on her face.

Matthew’s eyes lit up with a smug satisfaction as he took her in, his expression almost possessive. “See? Doesn’t that look better?” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Now you’re ready to show everyone what you’ve got, but still keep them at bay.”

Rhea shifted uncomfortably, the compliment feeling like a double-edged sword. “Yeah, I guess so,” she said, her voice lacking conviction.

Jey clenched his fists, barely containing his frustration. “We have to intervene,” he whispered to Cody. “This isn’t right.”

Cody nodded, resolute. “Let’s go find Damian and Finn. We need backup to make her see what’s really going on.”

As they prepared to leave their hiding spot, Jey couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time to help Rhea before the darkness of Matthew’s manipulation completely consumed her. She was stronger than this, but she needed to remember that strength before it was too late. Cody peeked his head to make sure Rhea and Matt had walked away and he gestured to Cody an ‘all clear signal.’

—

Jey and Cody moved through the bustling catering area, weaving past tables stacked with plates of food and wrestlers grabbing last-minute bites. Amidst the crowd, they spotted Finn, sitting at a table, happily munching on a bowl of fruit. His cheerful demeanor was a brief respite in the tense atmosphere, and Jey hoped he might have some insight on how to help Rhea.

“Hey, mates!” Finn greeted them with his usual infectious grin, waving them over.

“Finn,” Jey said, looking around to make sure they were out of earshot. “Have you seen Damian?”

Finn nodded, popping a grape into his mouth. “I think he’s talking with Drew in his locker room. Why? What’s going on?”

Cody gave a slight nod to Jey, signaling they needed to get serious. “Finn, can we talk to you about something… important?”

Finn’s expression shifted, his eyes sharpening as he looked between them. “What’s up? Is it about the match tonight?”

Jey shook his head, lowering his voice. “Not exactly. It’s about Rhea and Matt. Have you noticed… anything off with them?”

Finn frowned, setting his bowl of fruit aside. “What do you mean ‘off’?”

Cody took a breath, knowing he had to be clear. “Earlier, Jey and I overheard them arguing near my bus. It wasn’t just a little disagreement. Matt was… intense. He was pushing her to wear something she didn’t want to, and she was trying to tell him to back off, but he just wouldn’t let up.”

Jey added, “It wasn’t like they were just bickering. It was… controlling. Almost like he didn’t want her to have a say in what she wore. She seemed torn, trying to stand up for herself but also wanting to keep the peace.”

Finn’s expression grew darker, and he looked around, clearly uncomfortable having this conversation in such a public place. He glanced at the surrounding tables, seeing wrestlers within earshot, and then looked back at Cody and Jey. “Maybe we should talk somewhere private. Let’s head to Cody’s bus.”

“Absolutely,” Cody agreed, grateful for the suggestion. Finn grabbed a few extra pieces of fruit before following them out of catering and across the arena lot to Cody’s bus. Once inside, Cody closed the door behind them, and the three men settled into seats, the atmosphere tense and solemn.

Finn leaned forward, looking at them both seriously. “You’re not the only ones worried about Rhea. I’ve been keeping an eye on things for a while, but she doesn’t seem to see it the way we do. She thinks it’s just Matt being protective, but it’s way beyond that.”

Jey exchanged a concerned glance with Cody. “What happened at the photo shoot, Finn?”

Finn sighed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to find the right words. “During her promo shoot with Dom, Matt was there, lurking around like a shadow. He was watching her every move with Dom like he couldn’t stand their chemistry. It’s like he sees her as his property, not as a partner.”

“And that wasn’t the only time,” Finn continued. “We were all at a bar afterward, just unwinding, and Rhea was laughing, having a good time. But Matt couldn’t handle it. I caught him glaring every time she interacted with someone, especially when she was around us. He acts like she belongs to him alone, and it’s… uncomfortable.”

Cody leaned back, running a hand over his face. “How long has this been going on, Finn?”

“Long enough,” Finn muttered, frustration clear in his voice. “We’ve tried to talk to her. Damian and I have sat her down at least four times now, trying to get through to her. Each time, she just brushes it off as him being ‘protective.’”

“Four times?” Jey asked, dumbfounded. “And she hasn’t listened?”

Finn nodded sadly. “She’s in deep, man. She’s in love with him, and he’s twisted that love into something possessive. Every time we bring it up, she defends him, saying we’re reading too much into it. But it’s not normal, and she doesn’t see it.”

Cody shook his head, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. “This isn’t right. She deserves better than that. She’s one of us, part of the crew. We can’t just sit back and let him manipulate her like this.”

Jey glanced at Finn, thinking about his next words carefully. “Finn, what do you think we should do? We can’t force her to see it, but… maybe there’s something else we can try.”

Finn sighed, his eyes flickering with worry. “Look, Jey… the flirting you and Rhea do? The banter and the chemistry? It’s one of the things that sets him off. The third argument they had was because of you two. He saw you do your Welcome Back promo and when you said ‘We missed you.. we all missed you’. He just lost it. Me and Dom were practically uncomfortable as hell just listening to the way he was talking to her. It’s manipulative. He’s twisting her emotions until she thinks she’s the one in the wrong.”

Jey’s face softened with guilt as he nodded, absorbing Finn’s words. “If I knew that was triggering him, I would have dialed it back. I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“It’s not your fault, Jey,” Finn said firmly. “But maybe if you and Rhea ease up on the flirting, it’ll help take some of the pressure off. I hate suggesting that, but right now, we need to protect her in whatever way we can.”

Cody clenched his fists, determination hardening his expression. “So, we lay low, but we keep a close eye on her. And if things get worse, we intervene again. Damian, you, me, and Jey. We can’t let him keep getting away with this.”

Finn nodded, grateful to have his friends on board. “Agreed. I’ll talk to Damian and fill him in. We can’t save her from everything, but we can be there for her. Maybe, if she hears it enough, she’ll start to see the truth.”

The three men sat in silence for a moment, a shared resolve forming between them. This wasn’t just about wrestling anymore—it was about loyalty, friendship, and protecting one of their own. And as they looked at each other, they knew they were in this together, for better or worse.

Flashback: January 15, 2024

Jey stretched out his legs, loosening his muscles as he mentally prepared to step into his “Main Event” character for an upcoming promo. He hummed a tune to himself, letting the rhythm and energy flow through him, helping him channel the right attitude. But his focus wavered when he heard a muffled voice—no, not just a voice, yelling—coming from down the hallway.

Curious, Jey followed the sound, weaving past equipment and turning down a quieter hallway. As he got closer, the voice grew louder, more distinct, and unmistakably familiar. It was Rhea’s voice, filled with frustration and tension, coming from an empty locker room.

He hesitated, unsure if he should intrude. But he couldn’t help himself; he moved just enough so he could see her through the slightly open door, sitting on the bench, her back to him. She was gripping her phone, her shoulders tense, oblivious to Jey’s silent presence nearby. Her voice wavered with a mix of anger and sadness as she spoke to the person on the other end.

“Why are you still questioning my clothing choices?” she demanded, her tone exasperated. “I told you, it’s part of the character. It’s who I am. It’s my job, and you know that. I’m so fucking tired of having this conversation, Matt.”

Jey rolled his eyes. Of course, it was Matt again, he thought, annoyance bubbling up. This wasn’t the first time he’d overheard Rhea defending her choices to Matt, and each time it seemed to take more of a toll on her. He knew all too well what it looked like when someone’s spirit was slowly chipped away by criticism masked as concern.

As he kept watching, he heard a faint set of footsteps behind him. Jey turned slightly and saw Finn approaching, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. Jey gestured for Finn to come closer, silently pointing toward the door. Finn’s gaze softened with concern as he listened, hearing the heated exchange between Rhea and Matt on the other end of the line.

After a moment, Finn tugged on Jey’s sleeve, signaling that they should step away and give her some space. They moved down the hall, just far enough to speak without her hearing them.

“I’ll talk to her privately,” Finn assured Jey, his tone low but resolute. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll check in on her.”

Jey nodded, trusting Finn to handle the situation with the care it needed. Rhea and Finn shared a bond that ran deep, a friendship built on years of shared struggles and victories. If anyone could get through to her, it was Finn.

As Jey turned to leave, he paused, catching a glimpse of Finn quietly reentering the locker room, his expression full of empathy and determination. Just as the door was about to close, he heard Finn’s voice, gentle and steady. “Rhea…”

Jey continued down the hallway, but his mind lingered on Rhea. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something unresolved between them. Despite all the backstage moments, all the playful banter and shared laughs, he’d never actually sat down and had a real, deep conversation with her. He knew her as a friend, as a colleague, but he didn’t know the full story—what she hid beneath her confident exterior, or the struggles she dealt with behind the scenes.

Maybe it was time for that to change, he just needed to find a time and place.. however what he didn’t know? That time and place would be Anaheim, California… February 19th, 2024.

—

Present Time 8:22 PM

The sun had already begun to set as Rhea and Jey pulled up to Damian’s Airbnb in Katy, after the horrible traffic. The suburban lights flickering against the evening sky. It was New Year’s Eve, and the house was alive with music and chatter, emanating a welcoming vibe. Rhea could already feel the tension she’d been carrying all day start to ease. This was going to be a night of fun and family, a break from everything that had weighed on her.

As Jey parked the car, he turned to his two sons, Jaciyah and Jeyce, both of whom were buzzing with excitement in the backseat. “Alright, boys,” Jey said, his voice taking on that parental tone, “remember, if y’all get tired or need anything, go find Damian, alright? He’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

Jeyce and Jaciyah, already eager, barely listened, nodding quickly while their eyes sparkled with anticipation. They’d heard about the game room Rhea had excitedly mentioned on the drive over, a room outfitted with a PS5, an air hockey table, foosball, and even Dance Dance Revolution, courtesy of Austin Creed. The boys could hardly contain themselves.

Before Jey could say anything more, Damian swung open the front door, grinning as he took in the whole group. “Hey, hey!” he called out, laughter lacing his voice. But Jaciyah and Jeyce were already off, racing past him like rockets. Damian chuckled, stepping aside to let them through. His gaze landed on Rhea, and his expression softened.

“Hey, Rhea,” Damian greeted, opening his arms. She stepped in, letting him pull her into a warm hug. “How you doin’?”

Rhea sighed, letting herself relax against him for a moment. “Better once I eat,” she replied with a smirk. “I’m starving.”

Damian laughed, releasing her and gesturing her toward the inside of the house. “Well, you’re in luck. The girls went all out and set up a feast in the kitchen. You’ll find everything you need in there.”

Without a second thought, Rhea hurried off, her mind solely focused on satisfying her hunger. She gave a quick, playful wave to Jey before disappearing down the hallway toward the kitchen. Damian closed the door, turning back to Jey with an arm slung around his shoulders.

“Let’s get you a drink, Uce,” Damian said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jey grinned, feeling the relaxed, welcoming energy around him. “Man, I won’t say no to that.”

They made their way into the living room, where laughter and conversation filled the space. Friends and family filled the rooms, each person bringing their own warmth to the gathering. Damian led Jey to a bar set up in the corner, a selection of top-shelf liquor lined up, along with mixers and garnishes that seemed more than ready for a night of celebrating.

“What’s your poison?” Damian asked, reaching for a glass. He raised an eyebrow at Jey, who was glancing at the options with an amused smirk.

“Surprise me, D,” Jey replied, settling onto one of the stools. Damian nodded, starting to mix a drink as they fell into an easy conversation.

Across the house, Rhea found herself in the kitchen, her eyes lighting up at the spread. Plates of food lined the counter—everything from mini sliders and chicken wings to gourmet charcuterie boards to mountains of cakes and brownies. The girls had truly outdone themselves. Rhea wasted no time, grabbing a plate and loading it up with an assortment of bites, her stomach rumbling in appreciation.

As she piled her plate, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Liv, grinning widely.

“Girl, I knew you’d head straight to the food!” Liv teased, pulling Rhea into a quick hug.

“Look, I can’t help it!” Rhea laughed, gesturing to the plate. “I’ve been craving something like this all day.”

They shared a quick laugh, Rhea’s heart feeling lighter in the warmth of familiar faces and friendly banter. This was the kind of night she’d been looking forward to—a night where she could just be Rhea, surrounded by people who knew her, who cared about her.

Rhea and Liv decided to get cozy on the couch, the noise of the New Year’s Eve party bustling around them, but in their little bubble, it was just the two of them, lost in laughter and secrets.

Liv’s jaw dropped, still not over the news. “I still can’t believe it—you’re actually pregnant!” Her eyes sparkled with excitement for her friend.

Rhea chuckled, resting a hand on her belly. “Yeah, I am! I will send you a picture once I get the sonogram.”

Liv nudged her playfully. “What are you hoping for?”

Rhea’s face softened, her eyes hopeful. “A boy. I mean, I’ll be thrilled either way, but… yeah, I’d love a little guy.”

Liv smiled warmly. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom, Rhea. I’m so happy for you.”

Rhea gave her a grateful look. “I never got a chance to thank you, you know, for standing up for me with Kelani. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Liv waved her hand dismissively, grinning. “Worth every penny of that fine! Besides, someone had to put her in her place.”

They both laughed, the tension from past conflicts dissolving into shared humor. Rhea took a sip from her cup, then leaned in, her expression mischievous. “So… did you ever ask Dom out?”

Liv’s cheeks turned pink, and she let out a long, exaggerated “Girlllllll…”

She looked around quickly, scanning the room to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then leaned in close. “Okay, so… Dom is, well…” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Well endowed.”

Rhea burst out laughing, trying to muffle her giggles. “Oh my god! Liv!” Her laughter was infectious, and Liv joined in, both of them grinning like teenagers with a juicy secret.

Liv shrugged, pretending to be innocent. “Hey, just putting it out there! Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about!”

Rhea smirked, her cheeks flushed as she admitted, “Well… Jey is too.”

The two friends erupted into more laughter, playfully nudging each other. Liv leaned back, shaking her head. “So, how are you handling all the pregnancy hormones?”

Rhea groaned, rolling her eyes. “Girl, I’m all over the place. The other day, Jey and I were shopping for our New Year’s outfits, and… let’s just say I pulled him into the dressing room for a quickie.”

Liv gasped, smacking Rhea’s arm. “Rhea! You sly dog!”

Rhea laughed, raising her hands in mock innocence. “Hey, don’t judge! Look at you! How long have you and Dom been dating? A week or so? And you already know he’s packing in that department.”

Liv’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, but she grinned, biting her lip. “Okay, fine, guilty as charged. We were in the dressing room, just making out… and then things kind of escalated.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Let’s just say I did some… servicing, if you catch my drift.”

Rhea’s eyes widened in shock. “Liv! What if someone saw?!”

Liv laughed, waving it off. “Please, we had the door locked!”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so… y’all haven’t actually done it yet?”

Liv shook her head, a soft smile on her face. “Not yet. I want to wait a bit, you know? Just make sure it’s the right time.”

Rhea nodded, her face softening with understanding. “That’s smart. Dom’s lucky to have you, you know.”

Liv blushed, glancing down with a small smile. “Thanks, Rhea. And Jey… he’s got one hell of a catch too.”

They both exchanged a warm look, their friendship strengthened by shared secrets, laughter, and the excitement of new beginnings. As they leaned back into the couch, comfortable and content, they each silently toasted to love, laughter, and the promise of the year ahead.

— 9:58 PM

The energy in the room was electric as Jey, Jon, Finn, and Damian lined up for another round. Each of them held a shot over a beer, ready and determined to prove their drinking prowess. Carlito, acting as the self-appointed referee, had been keeping track of each round. Currently, they were tied 2-2, and the entire room had chosen sides, cheering passionately for their respective team.

Carlito raised his voice over the crowd, yelling, “Go!” In an instant, the guys dropped their shots into the beers and started chugging. The crowd erupted in cheers, encouraging each gulp. Within seconds, Jey and Jon slammed their empty glasses on the table, victorious. The crowd around them went wild, chanting their names, while Finn and Damian laughed, giving them props for the win.

As they celebrated, Dominik slipped through the crowd and called out, “Hey, guys! Need some help out here!” His grin was mischievous, and the glint in his eyes hinted that he had something up his sleeve.

Intrigued, Jey, Jon, Finn, Carlito and Damian followed Dominik out of the house, their curiosity piqued. The cool Texas night air hit them as they stepped outside, and the distant sound of music and laughter from inside the house created a perfect backdrop. JD stood by a car with a sly grin, motioning for them to come closer. With a bit of dramatic flair, he popped open the trunk.

As the trunk lid lifted, a colorful array of fireworks was revealed, stacked high and waiting to be set off. Damian’s eyes widened, and he let out an enthusiastic “Wepa!” His voice echoed into the night, and the excitement in his tone was contagious.

Jey laughed, shaking his head. “Bro, you went all out!”

JD chuckled, shrugging. “Only the best for New Year’s Eve. You know how we do!”

Jon clapped his hands together, looking like a kid in a candy store. “Alright, let’s get this party really started!” he said, grinning as he picked up a firework.

— 10:14 PM

Rhea called up the stairs, her voice carrying with excitement. “Jeyce! Jaciyah! Come down here!”

“Just a minute!” Jaciyah’s voice echoed back, but Rhea knew they were probably caught up in some game or distraction.

“We have fireworks!” she added, hoping to entice them down. Almost immediately, a wave of kids came rushing down the staircase, their laughter filling the air. Rhea stepped aside to let them pass, scanning the crowd for her stepsons.

“Liberty!” Brandi Runnels shouted, chasing after her 3-year-old daughter as she bolted away from her. Rhea quickly scooped Liberty into her arms, saving her from an imminent tumble.

“Gotcha!” Rhea said, chuckling as Liberty giggled in surprise.

“Thank you!” Brandi exclaimed, taking Liberty back into her embrace. “I appreciate that! She’s got a lot of energy; it’s hard to keep up!”

Rhea smiled. “No problem at all! I don’t think we’ve officially met, though. I’m Rhea.”

Brandi laughed, nodding. “I’m Brandi. I’m usually home with this little one, so I can’t exactly always tag along with Cody when he’s out.”

Rhea could relate, remembering her own moments juggling motherhood and her career. “It’s a balancing act for sure! But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Brandi’s eyes sparkled as she glanced around the lively scene. “This is such a great way to ring in the New Year. The kids are so excited about the fireworks!”

Rhea nodded enthusiastically. “They’ve been waiting all night! We should get them outside soon before they burst with excitement.”

Just then, Jeyce and Jaciyah finally appeared at the top of the stairs, their faces lit up with curiosity. “Did someone say fireworks?” Jeyce called, bounding down the last few steps with Jaciyah close behind.

Rhea grinned, motioning for them to hurry. “Absolutely! But we need everyone outside first, okay?”

The boys exchanged excited glances, then rushed to join the crowd as Rhea and Brandi followed. As the chaos of kids grew louder, Rhea couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging.

—

April 16th, 2024 11:38 AM

Rhea lay back in bed, feeling the emptiness around her. The room was eerily silent, the stillness a different feeling to the usual chaos that accompanied Matt’s presence. She hadn’t slept well, her mind racing all night, filled with lingering questions and the unresolved tension that seemed to shadow their relationship more each day. Matt wouldn’t be back until Friday, leaving her alone with her thoughts for the rest of the week.

With a deep sigh, she reached for her phone, hoping to distract herself with the mindless scrolling of social media. But as soon as she unlocked it, her heart clenched seeing the multiple texts from Jey.

Each message was a gentle plea, asking to talk, asking for clarity. “We need to figure this out, Rhea.” “I don’t want things to end like this.” “I just need to know what you’re feeling.” Every message seemed to dig into her, making her heart ache in ways she hadn’t expected.

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the first message, re-reading it one last time. Part of her wanted to respond, to pour out her confusion, her doubts, her hurt. But a stronger, more stubborn part reminded her of the path she’d chosen—the commitment she’d made to Matt, even if it was starting to feel like a shaky foundation.

With a tight swallow, she began deleting each message, one by one, feeling a sense of guilt and sadness settle in her chest with each swipe. As the last message disappeared, she set her phone down beside her, turning away from it as if distancing herself from the temptation.

Her mind, however, refused to let go. A lingering question echoed within her—Did I choose the right person?

She closed her eyes, trying to shake off the thought, trying to ignore the gentle pull she felt toward Jey, the warmth he brought into her life that Matt seemed unable to understand. In her heart, she knew she couldn’t deny the connection she felt with him, but she also knew she’d made her choice.

—

April 19th, 2024 10:30 AM

Matt’s arrival home was supposed to bring a sense of comfort, a familiar routine she could settle into. But when he leaned in and kissed her, Rhea felt an unexpected jolt, her mind drifting to Jey almost involuntarily. The warmth, the spark—it was there, but it didn’t feel like it was with Matt. For a split second, she allowed herself to linger in that feeling, imagining what it would be like if it was Jey.

Realizing where her thoughts had gone, she quickly pulled back, snapping herself out of the trance. She forced a small smile and cleared her throat. “How was your flight?” she asked, hoping to steer her thoughts away from the comparison that haunted her.

Matt gave her a smirk, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “It was okay,” he replied, his voice lowering suggestively. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about getting my hands on you.”

His words were meant to be affectionate, seductive even, but instead, they felt almost hollow to her ears. There was something in his tone that didn’t quite reach her heart, a spark that didn’t quite ignite the way it used to. But she pushed the thought aside, forcing herself to stay in the moment. She’d chosen this path; she had to commit to it, didn’t she?

Rhea leaned back slightly, letting out a small laugh that felt more forced than she intended. “Well, I hope you’re not too exhausted from the trip,” she teased lightly, trying to bring herself back into the rhythm of their relationship.

Matt’s eyes darkened with a familiar intensity, pulling her closer. “Exhausted or not, you’re worth every second of my energy.” He pulled her close, his hands trailing down her sides, attempting to spark something between them.

Rhea smiled, but internally, she felt herself pulling away, her thoughts drifting back to Jey and the unresolved feelings she kept locked inside. Part of her hated herself for it, but a deeper part wondered—could she keep pretending forever? Matt led her to the bedroom and closed the door behind the two.

“God, I've missed you," he groaned, pulling her into his arms and crushing his lips to hers.

Rhea kissed him back, her hands automatically working at the buttons of his shirt. She needed to feel his skin against hers, needed to remind herself of the connection they shared.

But as she stripped him down and led him to the bed, her mind began to wander. She couldn't help but think of Jey. She imagined Jey's tongue on her clit, his fingers pumping in and out of her pussy. She imagined him fucking her from behind, his hard dick slamming into her over and over again. She imagined him taking her in the shower, the hot water cascading down their entwined bodies as they fucked each other senseless.

Matt seemed to sense her distraction, and he pulled back to look at her, his brow furrowed in concern. "Rhea, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, forcing a smile. "Nothing, I just missed you so much," she lied, pulling him back down for a kiss. Matt smiled against her lips as the two adjusted themselves in the bed.

Matt pulled away and he reached for a condom in the nightstand, he tore off the opening and pulled it out to adjust it on his dick, he then he climbed on top of her, settling between her legs. Rhea felt a pang of guilt as she looked up at him, his chiseled abs and thick cock on full display. This was Matt, the man she loved, the man she had been with. She shouldn't be thinking about anyone else.

But as Matt entered her, she couldn't help but imagine it was Jey's dick filling her up, Jey's body pressing down on hers. She closed her eyes and let out a moan, her mind focused on the illicit fantasy playing out in her head.

Matt's thrusts grew more urgent as he picked up on her arousal, and Rhea felt herself growing closer and closer to the edge. She imagined Jey's hands on her breasts, Jey's lips on her neck. She imagined him whispering dirty things in her ear, telling her what how she feels, telling her how he can’t get enough of her.

And then, with a final thrust, Rhea came hard, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Matt collapsed on top of her, his own orgasm following close behind. Rhea lay there, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her climax. She had cheated on Matt, had betrayed him in the worst possible way. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to regret it. The thrill of her affair with Jey, the illicit nature of their encounters, had only served to heighten her desire for him.

As Matt pulled out of her and rolled onto his side, Rhea couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. For now, she had to force herself to enjoy the feeling of his warm body next to hers, and try to ignore the gnawing guilt in the pit of her stomach.

June 26th, 2024

As the wedding day dawned, Rhea felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her harder than ever before. June 26th was supposed to be a day of joy, a milestone in her life that she’d dreamed of, but as she paced in her black wedding dress, her mind was consumed by a storm of conflicting emotions. Her hair and makeup were perfectly done, and from the outside, she looked every bit the beautiful bride. But on the inside, she felt like she was on the verge of crumbling.

She could barely bring herself to check her phone, even though it buzzed relentlessly with messages and missed calls from Jey. It had been like this for weeks—Jey’s attempts to reach her had become so constant that she’d changed his contact name to Julie, just to keep Matt from growing suspicious. But no matter what she did, Jey’s presence lingered in her mind, an ache that refused to go away.

Sinking down to the floor, Rhea buried her head in her hands, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Why won’t he just leave my mind? she thought helplessly. Every day for the past two months, Jey had haunted her thoughts, filling her with doubt, longing, and regret. It was like he had woven himself into her very being, a part of her that she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she tried.

Sitting there in silence, the realization finally crashed over her, cold and unforgiving—she had chosen the wrong person. Matt was a constant in her life, stable and familiar. But Jey… he was the one who made her heart race, who filled her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. He was the one who stayed in her mind, who made her question everything.

She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. Was she really about to walk down the aisle, knowing that her heart didn’t truly belong to the man waiting for her? Could she ignore the way she felt, bury those feelings, and go through with this?

The weight of her choice settled on her shoulders, nearly suffocating her.

As the knock on the door echoed through the room, Rhea’s heart skipped a beat. She quickly wiped at her face, trying to pull herself together before the door opened, revealing her parents. They entered with warm, loving expressions, but their faces shifted to concern as they took in her frazzled state.

Her mother stepped forward, gently placing a hand on Rhea’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.

Rhea’s eyes filled with unshed tears as she looked between her mother and father. “You’re going to hate me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her father shook his head, stepping closer and taking her hand. “Demi, we could never hate you,” he reassured her firmly. “We love you, no matter what.”

Taking a shaky breath, Rhea blurted out the truth that had been tearing her apart. “I think… I think I may have fallen in love with the wrong person,” she admitted, the weight of her words pressing down on her. Her voice cracked, and her mother squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

Her father’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand. “What do you mean, Demi?”

“I just… did I choose the wrong person?”

Her mother and father exchanged a long, thoughtful look, their faces filled with compassion. Finally, her mother spoke, her voice gentle yet firm. “Demi, sweetheart, you need to follow your heart. This is your life, and you deserve happiness. We know this decision isn’t easy, but we’ll be here for you no matter what.”

Her father nodded in agreement. “No one can make this choice for you, but we want you to know that we support you—whatever you decide.”

Their words, simple but filled with love, washed over her, offering a moment of clarity amidst the storm of emotions.

As Rhea’s parents took their seats, prepared for a wedding or a called off wedding, Rhea stood alone in the bridal suite, the weight of her decision pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. She stared down at the bouquet, the symbol of a future she was choosing, even as Jey lingered in her heart. She felt a pang of guilt and a swirl of emotions that threatened to pull her under, but she steeled herself, straightening her shoulders as if to armor herself from the conflicting thoughts swirling within.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the vanity and dabbed at her face, wiping away any trace of tears. She applied a fresh layer of makeup, the ritual grounding her, making her feel somewhat in control. She reached for the eyedrops, blinking a few times until the redness disappeared, and glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked perfect, poised, every inch the bride. But inside, she was anything but sure.

Finally, she picked up her bouquet, the delicate flowers a walk in the park compared to the turmoil in her heart. She took another deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the steps ahead, one foot in front of the other. This was the path she’d chosen, and she was determined to walk down it.

As she approached the door, she paused for a moment, clutching the bouquet tighter. The image of Jey’s smile flashed in her mind, a warmth and ease she’d never quite felt with anyone else. But she pushed the thought away, closing her eyes briefly to collect herself.

The soft murmur of voices reached her ears as she took her place at the beginning of the aisle, waiting for the music to cue her entrance. She could hear the guests shifting, everyone eager to witness the ceremony. Somewhere out there, Matt was waiting for her, and she could feel the weight of his anticipation, his love, in the air.

With one final, steadying breath, she took her first step down the aisle with the world’s most forced smile..

—

As the reception boomed with laughter and music, Rhea decided to slip out of her wedding dress and into her reception dress for a bit of fun. She felt the weight of the day pressing down on her and longed for a moment to breathe and be herself. In the bridal suite, she began changing, eager to embrace the festive spirit of the evening.

Just as she was pulling the dress over her head, she heard the door creak open. Rhea quickly covered herself, a rush of surprise flooding her. Matt stood in the entryway, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Matt, what the fuck?” she exclaimed, her heart racing as she scrambled to adjust the fabric.

He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m just basking in the ambiance of my new wife.” He closed the door behind him, stepping into the room with an air of confidence that made Rhea’s skin crawl.

Before she could respond, he approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a kiss. Rhea broke away, trying to catch her breath. “We have to get back out there,” she insisted, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Why are you changing?” Matt asked, eyeing the reception dress with disdain.

“It’s my reception dress,” Rhea explained, rolling her eyes. “You already know this.”

“Just put on the wedding dress again,” he said, his tone taking on a sharper edge. “I don’t like the reception dress anymore.”

Rhea felt a familiar unease settle in her stomach as he spoke. His words felt like a command, not a suggestion, and she hesitated, glancing at the vibrant dress hanging on the chair. “But I wanted to wear this. It’s festive and fun—”

“Rhea,” he interrupted, stepping closer, his voice low and commanding. “The wedding dress is what everyone came to see. You should want to show off what I chose for you, what we chose together. It’s about us, not some other dress.”

The way he spoke made Rhea’s heart sink. A part of her wanted to fight back, to assert her independence, but another part was weighed down by his persuasive words. She felt the creeping guilt he was sowing within her.

“Look, I just want to make you happy,” he continued, his voice smooth and disarming. “You know I want what’s best for you, right? Just trust me. The wedding dress is perfect. It’s beautiful on you, and it’s what everyone expects to see.”

Rhea felt her resolve wavering, the excitement she’d felt about the reception dress diminishing under the pressure of his expectations. Matt’s hand came up to cup her chin, tilting her face toward him as he searched her eyes for any hint of resistance.

“Just wear the wedding dress for me, for us. You don’t want to disappoint anyone, do you?”

A wave of doubt washed over her, and she felt herself nodding despite her initial determination. “Fine,” she whispered, feeling the weight of his desires pushing her deeper into submission.

Matt’s eyes lit up with triumph as she let go of the reception dress, allowing it to slip onto the chair beside her. “Perfect,” he murmured, a satisfied grin stretching across his face. “That’s my girl.”

Rhea took a deep breath, her heart heavy as she reached for the door. The weight of the wedding dress felt more burdensome than ever, each step toward the celebration carrying a hint of reluctance. She forced herself to smile, burying the growing doubt as she prepared to face the guests, the man she had chosen… and the man she had allowed to manipulate her choices.

— June 29, 2024

As Rhea and Matt were enjoying their honeymoon, basking in the glow of the beach and each other’s company, Rhea’s phone buzzed in her bag. She grabbed it, her heart racing as she saw it was Damian calling. She answered it excitedly, her voice lighting up the moment. “Hey, Damian! How are you?”

But before she could say much more, Matt reached over, snatched the phone from her hand, and held it away from her. “Damian, just call her back later,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Matt!” Rhea exclaimed, feeling a surge of frustration. “Give me my phone back!”

He tossed her phone into her bag without a second thought and turned to her, crossing his arms. “We’re on our honeymoon, Rhea. Why are you talking to everyone? Can’t you just enjoy this time with me?”

Rhea stood up, her heart racing with anger and confusion. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she shot back, the heat of the moment fueling her defiance. She felt a mix of irritation and disbelief at how he was treating her. “I want to talk to my friends! I’m not going to just sit here and pretend I don’t have a life outside of you.”

Matt’s expression hardened as he stepped closer, his grip tightening around her wrist as he pulled her back down to sit. “Sit down,” he commanded, his voice low and serious.

Rhea felt a knot form in her stomach, a blend of anger and fear rising within her. She wanted to stand her ground, to fight back against his control, but the intensity in his eyes made her hesitate. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” she murmured, looking away, conflicted.

“Look, I get it. You’re excited to talk to your friends, but we’re supposed to be making memories right now. Just put your phone away,” he said, his tone softening slightly, but the possessiveness lingered.

Rhea’s heart raced as she considered his words, torn between her desire to maintain her independence and the reality of her situation. She wanted to enjoy their honeymoon, but she also felt a growing unease about Matt’s controlling behavior.

“Matt, I don’t want to feel trapped,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t what I envisioned for us.”

He stepped back, releasing her wrist but still holding a stern expression. “I’m not trying to trap you, Rhea. I just want us to focus on each other. Can you do that for me?”

Rhea took a deep breath, the weight of his request hanging heavily in the air. She knew she needed to find a balance between being a good partner and staying true to herself. “I’ll try,” she said cautiously, unsure if she was compromising too much of herself in the process.

Matt smiled, relief washing over his features. “That’s all I ask,” he replied, the earlier tension easing slightly. Rhea managed a weak smile in return, but deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a struggle to keep her identity intact while navigating her new life.

— Later that night..

Damian and Finn were currently in a game of Connect Four while drinking tequila in their Boston hotel room. They had arrived early to Boston, taking advantage of the quiet before the storm that was RAW on Monday. The tension of the previous few weeks hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere.

As they played, Damian furrowed his brow, pushing a piece into place. “You know, something is off,” he said, glancing at Finn.

Finn raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “About what?”

Damian sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Matt. He’s never picked up Rhea’s phone and told me to call her back later. That’s not like him.”

“Should we call her back then?” Finn suggested, not fully understanding the weight of the situation.

“I don’t wanna push Rhea anymore,” Damian replied, shaking his head. “It’s like every time we talk to her, she doesn’t listen. I’m worried about her.”

Just then, Finn’s phone rang, the screen illuminating with a Tampa area code. “Hello?” he answered cautiously.

“Finn! It’s Rhea,” came her voice, a wave of relief washing over him.

“Why didn’t you call on your cell?” Finn asked, his heart racing with concern. He could hear the tension in her voice.

“I don’t want Matt to see me on the phone,” Rhea replied quietly.

Finn quickly pressed the speakerphone button, glancing at Damian, who looked eager to hear from her. “Damian is here too,” Finn said, his voice a mix of relief and concern.

“Hey, Rhea,” Damian said, his voice steady but concerned. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” she said quickly, but there was an edge to her voice that told them otherwise. “I just wish he didn’t grab my wrist today.”

“That’s a big no-no,” Finn said, his tone turning serious. “That’s not okay, Rhea.”

Damian leaned in, trying to be as gentle as possible. “Rhea, I know it might be hard to see, but I really think you’re being manipulated by Matt. You deserve so much better than this. You need to leave him.”

Rhea hesitated, the silence stretching painfully on the line. “I… I don’t know, guys,” she finally replied, uncertainty lacing her words. “We are married..”

“Marriage shouldn’t hurt, Rhea,” Damian insisted, his voice rising with emotion. “You shouldn’t have to question yourself or feel scared in your own marriage.”

Before they could say more, the call disconnected, leaving Finn staring at the phone in disbelief. “Should we call her back?” he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Damian sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m terrified to call her back. I don’t want to push her away, but we can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“Maybe we should give her some space,” Finn suggested reluctantly. “Let her process everything.”

“Space?” Damian echoed, his frustration boiling beneath the surface. “She needs someone to fight for her! What if this is the last time we hear from her?”

Finn took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic. “We’ll keep our phones close. If she calls back, we’ll be ready. But we can’t overwhelm her right now.”

“Right,” Damian muttered, though he didn’t feel convinced. “But I won’t stop fighting for her. We need to make sure she knows she’s not alone in this.”

As they sat in the quiet hotel room, the weight of the situation hung heavily between them, a shared determination solidifying in their hearts. They wouldn’t give up on Rhea, not now, not ever.

—

Rhea hung up the hotel phone, her heart still racing from the conversation with Finn and Damian. She heard the shower turn off and quickly slipped under the covers, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her mind. She felt a mix of guilt, confusion, and a desperate longing for clarity.

Moments later, Matt emerged from the bathroom, water droplets glistening on his skin, his hair tousled and damp. He climbed into bed next to Rhea, the sheets cool against her warm skin. He turned to her, his expression softer than it had been earlier. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a hint of regret. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. I promise, moving forward, I’ll never lay a hand on you or talk to you like you’re beneath me.”

Rhea’s heart ached at his words, a part of her wanting to believe him. He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers, and the kiss felt familiar, yet distant. “I love you,” he murmured against her mouth, his eyes searching hers for confirmation.

Rhea, having mentally checked out, felt the weight of his affection but couldn’t fully embrace it. The memories of her conversation with Finn and Damian echoed in her mind, pulling her in two different directions. Despite the confusion and turmoil inside her, she responded with a soft, “I love you too.”

The words slipped out almost automatically, and she felt a pang of guilt afterward. Was she being honest, or just saying what he wanted to hear? She turned her head slightly, avoiding his gaze, and pulled the covers tighter around herself. The warmth of the bed contrasted sharply with the cold realization that she wasn’t entirely sure what love truly felt like anymore.

Matt wrapped his arms around her, sensing her hesitation but attributing it to stress. “We’ll work on this,” he said softly, as if his words could smooth over the cracks in their relationship. “I want to make you happy, Rhea. You’re my everything.”

Rhea swallowed hard, a knot forming in her throat. She wished she could feel the same way, but the shadows of her doubts loomed large, and the weight of her unexpressed feelings pressed heavily on her chest. As Matt held her close, she lay there in silence, the chasm between them growing wider, each heartbeat a reminder of her unresolved heartache. She wanted to believe in his words, but the thought of Jey lingered in her mind like a ghost, refusing to fade away.

—

July 9th, 2024 2:57 AM

Rhea sat on her hotel bed, staring at the blue lingerie in her hands, contemplating her decision. She slipped into it, feeling beautiful but unable to shake thoughts of Jey. Despite Matt’s recent kindness, she longed for the tenderness Jey had shown her.

After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed her robe and checked the time—it was almost three in the morning. A mix of guilt and desire washed over her as she closed her door and headed to Jey’s room. Each step felt rebellious, but the thrill of possibility overwhelmed her doubts.

Standing in front of Jey’s door, Rhea raised her hand to do a soft knock, heart racing. This could change everything, but she was finally ready to embrace what she had been denying for too long.

—

I encourage all of you to re read chapters if something doesn’t make sense to you. To help you all the ending of this chapter would have been inserted in Chapter 22… I’ve also received a dm asking why I chose Non Linear. As a big fan of Quentin Tarantino I always appreciated out of place story telling. It sometimes can be confusing but in the end everything always gets answered.

💜

[misshoneyimhome]

GM☀️ imagine Willy participating in no nut November and inexperienced reader pushing his boundaries to break his rules and wearing the beautiful outfits to his games to remind him what’s he’s missing. Another to thing add is that his brother is there it adds to challenge. I love the dress she has on because it features his favorite her bum lol I just know a fan might say something about it during game love some jealous William.

https://www.instagram.com/emma.powell/p/C-54fNWyn4t/?img_index=5

Oh my gosh, yes! 🙌🏼 I know I’ve said my requests are closed because of the Sexy Christmas series, but I just couldn’t resist this one 🙈 It’s not much, but this would definitely work as an Inexperienced!reader x Willy scenario 😉

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, No Nut November, teasing!reader

Word count: 1.1K

➼｡ﾟ

No Nut November I inexperienced!reader x Willy ✐

William Nylander had a problem, and that problem was you.

When he’d agreed to participate in No Nut November, it had seemed like a harmless challenge. A bit of fun, a test of willpower, perhaps even an exercise in self-discipline. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you—his endlessly tempting, sweetly mischievous girlfriend—becoming the ultimate distraction. At first, you hadn’t meant to test his resolve. But once you realised the effect you had on him, it became far too tempting to push his boundaries.

And the real tipping point came on game night against the Islanders. You knew William loved when you dressed up for his games, always the supportive partner who effortlessly turned heads in the players’ family section. But tonight, you’d decided to take things a step further.

The dress you chose was daring, and you knew it. Black velvet, with spaghetti straps and a figure-hugging design that left little to the imagination. It framed your curves all the way to the ankles, accentuating your legs, while the clinging fabric hugged your bum in a way you knew William couldn’t ignore. It was classy, yet undeniably sexy—exactly the sort of outfit that would linger in his thoughts all night.

As you walked into Scotiabank Arena, the atmosphere seemed to shift. You definitely didn’t look like someone who was meant to fit it. Heads turned as you made your way to the players’ family section, your heels clicking against the tiled floor. Tugging lightly at your jacket—worn only to shield you from the chill—you carried yourself with an assured smile. You felt the weight of lingering stares, but they didn’t matter. Your focus was on William.

You found your seat and settled in as warmups began. At first, William didn’t notice you—he was focused on his drills, skating with that effortless grace that never failed to leave you in awe. But as he glided past your section, his eyes finally landed on you.

His reaction was immediate. His blue eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightened, and his gaze lingered on you. He faltered for the briefest of moments, recovering quickly, but not before you caught the telltale shift in his expression. The usual confident smirk he wore during warmups had disappeared, replaced by something darker, more intense.

You smirked to yourself, satisfied. Mission accomplished.

Throughout the game, you couldn’t help but notice William sneaking glances in your direction whenever he had the chance. His focus wavered during pauses in play, his gaze flickering to the stands as if he couldn’t help himself. His teammates didn’t miss it either.

“Bro,” Matthew Knies muttered on the bench, nudging his teammate with his elbow. “What’s got into you tonight?”

“Nothing,” William replied curtly, adjusting his helmet in a bid to appear unaffected.

But Matthew followed his gaze, easily spotting you in the stands. His eyebrows shot up, a low whistle escaping his lips. “Ah, I see now. You’re screwed, man.”

William scowled, brushing him off, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

The game was already intense for William, but you had made it downright impossible to focus. The black velvet dress you’d chosen for the night wasn’t just bold—it was practically a weapon. The open back and figure-hugging cut were designed to turn heads, and William’s brother, Alex, sitting not far from you in the family section, didn’t miss it.

“Bold choice,” Alex commented when you arrived, a teasing grin on his face. “You trying to give Willy a heart attack before the game starts?”

You smirked, brushing off the comment. “Just showing my support.”

Alex chuckled knowingly but didn’t push it further, though his occasional glances during the game suggested he knew you were up to something.

In the first period, William caught sight of you as he skated past, his eyes lingering just a second too long on your seat. His usual cool composure faltered ever so slightly, and Alex leaned forward with a smirk.

“Nice job distracting him,” Alex quipped, his voice low enough to keep it private. “We might lose the game because of you.”

You couldn’t help but grin, leaning closer. “He’s doing just fine. Besides, I thought a little motivation never hurt anyone.”

Alex shook his head with a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

Things took a turn in the third period. During a brief pause in play, a fan seated a few rows behind you decided to make his opinion on your outfit known.

“Nylander’s got good taste off the ice!” the guy hollered, loud enough for half the section to hear. “That dress should be illegal!”

Your cheeks flushed as a ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. You glanced at Alex, who looked just as amused, but when your eyes found William on the ice, the amusement stopped.

He’d heard it.

William’s head turned sharply toward the stands, his jaw tightening as his gaze locked on the fan who’d spoken. His glare was icy, his displeasure evident even from where you sat. His lips pressed into a thin line before he skated back to the bench, but not before throwing one more look in your direction.

“Uh-oh,” Alex said with a low whistle, leaning back in his seat. “That’s the look. Someone’s in trouble—and it’s not just that guy.”

The game ended in a win for the Leafs, but as you made your way to the hallway to meet William, you could feel the weight of his gaze before you even saw him.

He emerged from the locker room, his damp hair slicked back and his suit perfectly tailored, but his expression was anything but calm. His blue eyes burned as he walked straight past Alex, who raised his hands in mock surrender, and came directly to you.

“What was that about?” he asked, his voice low and tight.

Feigning innocence, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “What was what about?”

William’s lips twitched, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, his grip firm. “Don’t play coy. You knew exactly what you were doing. And that guy—” He cut himself off, clearly still irritated by the comment.

“Jealous, are we?” you teased, unable to hide your grin.

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

Before you could respond, Alex walked past, clapping William on the shoulder. “Relax, bro. She’s just keeping you on your toes. Besides, I think she deserves a reward for helping us win.”

William shot his brother a glare, but the tension eased just slightly as he focused back on you. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you love it,” you replied with a cheeky smile.

He sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get out of here. You’ve got some explaining to do about that dress.”

The possessive look in his eyes promised that you were in for a long night—and you weren’t complaining one bit.

[scoobydoodean]

also brett matthews was Crazy for not only implying assault can turn you gay but then writing dean hurting his stepson after being turned into a vampire (gay) like. brett matthews your homophobia is unmatched

like yeah the fans who insist the monsters represent gay people have a point but it's literally this singular episode and it's done in a way that is so deeply homophobic it's crazy

sorry if that last ask was too much but it drives me insane whenever people ignore the insane amount of homophobia in twi-hard.

Okay so here's the thing. I'm not a particular fan of the tone of Brett Matthews episodes. I don't mind exploring non-consensual themes but I think he has a very odd fixation on them. At least in "Live Free Or Twi-Hard", this serves a purpose to the larger storyline surrounding soulless Sam and what he's willing to do, as well as the alpha monsters and how the alpha vampire is building an army. It even gives us some insight into Samuel's moral framework and his perception of Sam and Dean. It also unburies memories of some of Dean’s past experiences being used as bait by his family (or using sex to get them information). In "Caged Heat", Matthews repeated references to non-consensual sexual acts just feel like edgy set dressing for the most part.

The thing is that I also don't think Brett Matthews means to imply anywhere in "Live Free Or Twi-Hard" that being assaulted makes you gay or that Dean's gayness then harms Ben/the family. I think I understand how one can build that reading out of the episode, but I do not ultimately accept that reading. I also don't think monstrosity or vampirism is inherently queer. I do not accept that premise. Monstrosity in general or vampirism in particular certainly can represent queerness, and vampirism has been used as a metaphor for queerness in media many times, but vampirism doesn't inherently represent queerness. If it did, then almost every piece of media about vampires ever made would arguably be sowing the same uncomfortable homophobic narratives because vampirism has been connected with sexual assault from Dracula onward, and vampires in stories are almost always people who were turned against their will at some point in their life or have turned others.

I do not think any kind of monster in Supernatural has to and always represents queerness anymore than I think Sam having powers/feeling lonely makes his storyline inherently queer (which I don't). I understand that there are at least a couple of metas connecting Dean's experience in this episode to queerness not just because it involves vampires but because it also leads to Lisa and Dean's breakup and because Boris also clearly has a sexual interest in Dean, but while I respect these interpretations (as well as the choice to read vampirism as a metaphor for queerness in the episode) I don't personally find these metas that alluring (at least what I have seen of them). This has partly to do with (1) me having a VERY different take on Dean and Lisa than most of spnblr (I don’t dismiss their relationship as “comphet” for example) and (2) having a different take on Dean's relationship to his sexuality up to this point in the series than a lot of people, but it also has to do with (3) me disliking how this reading of 6.05 leads to uncomfortable linkages between queerness and rape that do not spark joy for me and that I do not think deserve to be treated as a forgone conclusion.

Some of the things I have read before from fans regarding this episode feel a little too close to saying "Dean was attacked by a bisexual man who wanted to fuck him and that means Dean is queer" which I do not find logical and which I think aligns with some pretty harmful ideologies, and if fans choose to believe that Matthews intentionally connects the story with those ideologies (either because he himself believes them or thinks Dean does) that's their prerogative, but I don't think it means when other fans reject that reading or fail to absorb it, that they're ignoring some kind of interpretive forgone conclusion about the "meaning" of the episode or what Dean being turned must represent. This is all media analysis. It is ultimately subjective. There are different takes and perspectives here. I don't think there's an inherently right and correct reading and I do not believe this is the only reading of the episode, and while I'm happy to see people play in the sandbox writing whatever metas they'd like about it, and I think one can build up a lot of support as desired, and there's certainly commentary one can make about this episode being homophobic/biphobic regardless, I don't personally think what Brett Matthews wanted me to get out of this is that being assaulted makes you gay and ruins families.

I do think this episode has a lot to say about Dean's relationship to his body and how it has been objectified and used because he has been treated as a weapon or a tool for almost his entire life, and how Dean has internalized that. I do think this episode has a lot to say about internalizing blame as a victim of a variety of non-consensual experiences—the fear that the things that have been done to you throughout your life have "sullied" you and made you a danger who needs to be put down/who will harm the people you love. This episode has a lot to say about Dean's overactive sense of responsibility and guilt, his tendency to internalize blame for things he can't control, and his failure to see that he was a victim in many MANY situations where he was absolutely victimized. From my perspective, vampirism in this episode serves as a metaphor for all of Dean's trauma (from hell, from being raised as a hunter and never having any other choices, from all the people he's lost, from a variety of non-consensual experiences, etc) and how he internalizes the effects of that trauma on himself psychologically as something that has turned him into a monster who cannot grasp happiness or safety and instead will ruin everyone else's if he tries. It is devastatingly tragic and painful to watch. This is also why I happen to be very uncomfortable with a lot of deanlisa takes that criticize Lisa for (in usually nicer words but nontheless) allowing a filthy animal like Dean into her home and how she should have known he was disgusting damaged goods.