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shuenkio · 3 days ago

Text

Lover Demon — 제이크

Paring: Jake!Demon X M!reader

Synopsis: Summon the wrong type of demon consequences with something you never thought would ever happen.

Genre: Smut without plot. Cw: curse, smau.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Witchcraft is a quiet, curious thing—something that seems to catch only your eye. In a world so full of technology and science, there’s little space left for whispered stories, magic, or the old myths that once felt so real. Those tales have grown faint over time, gently brushed aside by facts and reason, leaving behind a world that’s slowly forgotten how to dream.

Yet you can’t help but gather books on witchcraft—magic, power, rituals, spells, summoning—anything that catches your curiosity, even if most of them are likely just clever tricks for profit. But that doesn’t really matter. It’s enough to quiet your mind, to feel that familiar comfort in studying, in learning about the things that draw you in, no matter how unreal they might seem to others.

The sun sank below the horizon, leaving the sky to rest as a radiant full moon took its place, flooding the earth with silver light. It was the perfect night—the kind you’d been waiting for. Months of study led to this moment, the chance to perform a ritual, to summon a demon that haunted your thoughts. Wishes you’d longed for danced on the edge of possibility. Whether the books were lies or truth didn’t matter. It was worth the risk.

Behind your grandparents’ backyard, surrounded by trees that whispered in the night breeze, lay the perfect place for this ritual. Hidden from prying eyes and safe from interruption, it was the ideal spot to summon the demon that had lingered in your thoughts. Under the full moon’s watchful gaze, the air felt heavy with possibility.

“Finally, I’ve been SUMMONED—” the demon stretched, his body cracking with a sound that echoed through the small, broken-down house. He sighed, clearly relieved to be back in the human world. His glowing eyes scanned the room before landing on you. He blinked, his expression shifting from smug to surprised. “Wait... you’re a guy?” he asked, pointing at you with one sharp claw.

You stood there, clutching the book to your chest, heart pounding as you stared at the towering figure. His horns nearly brushed the ceiling, and his presence filled the room with an aura that made it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard but forced yourself to stand tall. Clearing your throat, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What’s wrong with being a boy?” You scoffed, turning your nose up just a little. “You know damn well you can’t do anything to me since I’m the one who summoned you.” You tried to sound confident, hoping he couldn’t see how your hands were trembling just a bit.

The demon looked at you for a long moment before rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. So what do you want? Must be something big if you went through all that trouble.” He crossed his arms, his muscles flexing under his dark skin. “Just so you know, my name’s Jake, and I’m the Demon of Love.” He paused, his face twisting into a scowl. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I know it doesn’t sound all that terrifying, but it’s not what you think. I’m no damn cupid.”

You stared at him, your mind blanking for a moment. Demon of... Love? Your stomach sank as the realization hit you. You’d summoned the wrong demon.

“Uh... hey, so... I think I made a mistake summoning you,” you started, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure. “I was... actually looking for a wish demon, not... um... a love demon.” You could feel your face heating up with embarrassment. “So... can you, like... go back by yourself? Or do I have to, uh, do another ritual or something?”

Jake’s glowing red eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. For a moment, you were convinced he was either furious or just incredibly disappointed, but then he let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Of course. Should’ve known. A rookie,” he muttered, his voice echoing with that eerie double-tone that made your skin crawl.

He crossed his arms, his massive form leaning against the crumbling wall. “You humans never read the fine print, do you?” His eyes roamed over you, lingering just long enough to make you uncomfortable. “Alright, since you’re... kind of handsome and clearly clueless, I’ll tell you the truth. There’s only one way to send me back.”

You waited, holding your breath.

“Mating,” Jake said lazily, as if he were discussing the weather. “Since you’re my summoner, we’d have to... you know, perform a ritual of love. It’s my rule.”

Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak. “W-What?” you finally managed, voice cracking in disbelief. “You’re kidding... right?”

Jake just smirked, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Hey, don’t blame me. You summoned the Demon of Love. What did you expect?”

////

Right on the spot, your body was naked where your clothes had been torn into pieces by the love demon. The moment you couldn't even take time to react, that was when it changes to the state that you're in right now, completely butt out and length kiss the cold air. However that's just the beginning, The love demon— shape shift himself into the human version of his, in order to intimate the rule he just spit, for a better saying was to FUCK Jake to send him back.

A flash red light flickering, before Jake stands proud in front of you with his exposed flesh. His build masculine body makes you question whether this is a reward or a punishment? Not to mention in detail was that— even though Jake was a demon, he understood the human need... A bit all too well for how lustful they are in bed, and he isn't any better from humans, Jake likes it more than they ever would.

The 12 inches cock hanging between his legs, the balls are covered in a heavy skin stretching like a cauliflower. Jake's tense thighs only to fuel your desire to just kneel right there before him and begging for his to fuck your brain out of you.

Yet you made no move. In a blink of an eyes you find yourself on the red comfortable mistress to the unknown, the dark absorbed any surrounded which all you see is blank plain ancient walls around.

Jake wastes no time before Lough into your smaller frame which caused you to yelp in a surprise manner. As your back hits the cold bed before his hip enters your closet personal space. Your groin of course. The demon itself tends to know a lot of people's daily life and stuff, nevertheless he doesn't know how to kiss, to intimate more sexual love making, to bond more yet all he knows was to mate and fuck, that's all he's good at.

"If you dare to PUSH me off right now darling, I'll be forever stuck here with you for a century, and boy—I do not care if you have a manhood to make children, i fuck whoever summon ME!" Cool sweat dripping down on your forehead, with a shriek were heard inside the chamber once Jake's enormous largely cock entered the tightness of yours.

For once in his whole life— Jake could finally find pleasure for the first time in humans, resulting in him throwing his head back, goosebumps running down in his vein as his both reds glow eyes disappear into white. The pleasure of his cock burying the inside of your hole alone already turning Jake into a wild animal.

"Holy Demon— mhmm why is it SAUR GOOD I fucking love it, need to BREED with my fucking FERTILIZER SEED ARG" The demon shriek to the undeniable lust he felt in this moment, his growling alluring through your ear drum.

"Unghh... fuck! So goddamn tight...!"

Your eyes turn white of the intense pleasure, my ass hole is too taunt better than a vice, make him fold into two even though he was pounding me just like demon possessed. It was too much for us yet it was too overstimulated for Jake, to hold on to the point he needed something to hold on.

The taller frame grunts and pants harshly, sweat beading on his brow as he struggles to maintain his relentless pace, your incredibly tight hole clenching and fluttering around his pistoning cock like a silken vise. "Shit... M/n... your fucking ass... it's too goddamn tight!"

He snarls through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The couch creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he tries to find some semblance of stability. His hot, ragged breaths fall against your neck and ear, his lips latching onto your skin to bite and suck. He's quickly losing himself in the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock, his movements becoming more erratic and desperate.

Suddenly, he hilts inside you, grinding his pelvis flush against your ass, his heavy balls slapping lewdly against your taint. He stays there for a moment, just savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed in your clenching channel before he starts rolling his hips, stirring his thick cock around inside you.

His hand snakes around your body, grasping your own weeping erection, squeezing and stroking it in time with his relentless thrusts. "Unghh... fuck... I can feel every throb, every twitch of this greedy little cunt... like it's sucking me in fucking deeper...!" Whimpers sniff painted his face, he's absolutely destroying himself.

He changes the angle of his thrusts slightly, aiming straight for that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. With each snap of his hips, he grinds against that spot, determined to make you fall apart on his cock.

The pressure builds rapidly in his heavy, churning balls as he chases his pleasure, his strokes becoming shorter and sharper, his grip on your hips tightening. He's getting close... too fucking close. But he won't stop, not until he's pumped every last drop of his hot, thick seed deep into your guts.

His hips slap against your ass with brutal force, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room along with his animalistic grunts and groans. The bed creaks and shakes beneath you with the force of his thrusts, threatening to topple over.

Jake collapses heavily against your back, his entire body shaking and twitching with the force of his intense orgasm. A guttural, almost feral roar tears from his throat as he empties his aching, overstimulated balls deep inside you, painting your inner walls white with thick ropes of his scalding cum.

His cock jerks and pulses wildly as it pumps what feels like an endless stream of jizz into your spasming hole, the sheer volume of it causing some to leak out around his shaft and drip down onto the couch. He grinds against you, making sure to push his load in as deep as it can go, marking your insides with his essence.

But the overwhelming sensations and the intense pleasure pushing him over the edge also have an unintended consequence. As he's lost in the throes of his release, feeling your body clench and milk his spurting cock, he loses control of another bodily function. A warm, unfamiliar sensation rushes through his shaft, and suddenly, he feels a strong, forceful stream of piss erupting from his cock, mixing with the thick cum already flooding your ass.

Panic rises in his chest as he realizes what's happening, but he's too far gone, too consumed by the all-encompassing pleasure radiating from his core. He can only let out choked, strangled groans as he continues to empty his overstimulated body into yours, the heat of his piss momentarily startling you, even as it washes away the excess cum.

After what feels like an eternity, his release finally starts to taper off, leaving him slumped against your back, both of you coated in sweat and the remnants of his spending. His softening cock, still buried deep inside your cream-filled hole, gives a few last weak pulses, a few last drops of piss and cum dribbling lazily into you.

The man remains in place, his entire body heavy and sated, his breathing slowly returning to a somewhat normal pace after the intense workout. He nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin, a rare moment of gentle intimacy. He's utterly spent, but a part of him is still marveling at the incredible tightness of your body, the way it took everything he had to give and then some.

"cum... It's coming...."

Jake could feels the hot spurts of your release splattering against his fingers and your stomach, mixed with the sweat and other fluids already covering both of your bodies. A slow, satisfied smirk spreads across his face, his chest rumbling with a deep, approving groan. "Heh... that's it, M/n... come for me just like the needy little slut you are. I can feel you fucking soaking my hand with it...— I guess I won't fucking leave this human world you're now forever mine— My you"

The slave mark appears on your lower tummy.

A/n: Some part might be confused so I'll left into your imagination. This was inspired by bff of mine— from my famous friend @angelsfat3

Funtalk: Dare to get rail by demon Jake?

184 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 18 hours ago

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Helloooo!!! Sorry to bother, but Could we get a part two of your Yandere!Mydei x Neko! Reader? Its really given me interest and I think it’d be cool, them marrying and all and how would reader react to it? How would it go? Would reader end up enjoying the marriage or suffer in it?

Yandere!Mydei x Neko!Reader [2]

Visit [part 1]

Days turned into weeks, then months, life at Mydei’s estate had become… normal. At least, as normal as it could be when you lived under the same roof as a man who seemed hellbent on making your life difficult—in the most infuriating ways possible.

The maids now treating you with respect (if not a little wariness, given your close relationship with Mydei). You had found small ways to be useful, helping organize documents, assisting in the gardens, and occasionally running small errands for Mydei’s work.

You had gotten used to everything.

Except him.

Because somehow, no matter how much time passed, Mydei always found new ways to tease you. And you never saw it coming.

One morning, you were walking through the hall when

“My, my. Has anyone told you how adorable you look when you’re lost in thought?”

You flinched, ears twitching violently as you whirled around. Mydei was leaning against the wall, watching you with that damn smirk of his.

“You—” You exhaled sharply. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?!”

“I wasn’t sneaking” he said. “You were just too distracted to notice.”

“What do you want?”

He stepped closer, towering over you. “Nothing much. Just enjoying the view.”

“Stop saying things like that!”

“Oh?” His smirk widened. “Would you prefer if I whispered it instead?”

You bolted. You can hear his laughter followed you down the hall.

Another time, you were in the library, trying to reach a book from a high shelf. Just as you were about to grab it, a hand easily plucked it away. You huffed, turning—only to see Mydei flipping through the pages, his expression casual.

“…Mydei.”

“Yes, pet?”

You held out your hand. “Give it back.”

He hummed, tapping his chin. “I don’t know… What will you give me in return?”

“It’s my book!”

“And I’m simply holding it,” he mused. “Now, if you really want it back, perhaps a little please, my dear lord might do the trick?”

You lunged for it.

He lifted it higher.

You jumped.

He stepped back.

This continued for a full minute before you finally grabbed onto his arm, using your weight to drag him down.

Both of you tumbled onto the couch, you landing half on top of him.

You stiffened as Mydei’s arms settled around your waist, his breath warm against your ear.

“Well, this is quite bold of you, pet” he murmured. “If you wanted to be in my arms, all you had to do was ask.”

You flew off him.

The book?

You completely forgot about it.

His victorious chuckle haunted you for the rest of the day.

No matter how much time passed, no matter how comfortable you became in his estate—you would never get used to him.

----

You had woken up expecting another normal day.

Instead, you found yourself curled up in the blankets, significantly smaller than usual.

Your ears twitched. Your tail—wait, your tail?!

You looked down, and instead of hands, you had small, soft paws.

You had… transformed. It was rare—so rare that you barely even remembered the last time it happened. But maybe, just maybe, it was a side effect from when you had sacrificed one of your lives to save Mydei.

Panic flickered in your chest.

You had to find a way to change back before Mydei saw you like this.

The bedroom door opened.

“Pet—” Mydei’s voice started casually before he stopped, scanning the empty bed.

A deep frown tugged at his lips. “Where did you run off to this time?”

Your fur bristled. He was already assuming the worst.

…Well.

Maybe this was an opportunity.

He doesn’t know it’s me.

If he thought you had simply gone out, then you had time to figure things out. A little harmless wandering wouldn’t hurt, right? And so, you took full advantage of your new form, slipping out of the room undetected.

For the first time in forever, you explored the estate in your small, feline form.

You darted between the hallways, slipping past the maids’ feet, leaping onto high bookshelves with ease. You even snuck into the kitchen and stole a snack—not that anyone could blame a harmless little cat, of course.

But the best part?

Watching Mydei suffer.

He waited in the main hall, arms crossed, golden eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Still not back...” he muttered, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.

The longer you stayed hidden, the more irritated he became.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair before grumbling, “When they come back, I swear I’ll keep them locked in my room for a week.”

Maybe you should stay like this a little longer.

You continued your little adventure, enjoying the rare freedom that came with being small and swift. The estate was huge, and in this form, it felt even bigger. You weaved through the garden, basked in the sunlight by the windowsill, and even had a little fun swatting at the occasional falling leaf.

It wasn’t often you got to just… relax without Mydei teasing you every five minutes.

Speaking of him, you found him near the entrance of the estate, still looking for you.

You perched on a high wall, ears twitching as you observed him. He looked mildly annoyed.

“They’re still not back” he murmured to himself, fingers running through his hair. “Where in the world did you run off to, pet...”

You watched, amused. If only you could tell him.

That’s when his gaze flicked up and locked directly onto you.

“A cat?” Mydei tilted his head, his irritation fading into mild interest.

Your tail flicked.

He didn’t recognize you.

Perfect.

You were about to hop away when suddenly—

“Come here” Mydei said, his voice taking on that damn smooth, commanding tone.

Your body reacted before your brain did.

Before you knew it, you had leapt down.

Right into his arms.

…What?

You blinked, startled at yourself.

“Well, well. Aren’t you obedient?”

You screamed internally.

Why did you listen?! It had to be instinct—some part of you still used to following his commands.

Noticing your frozen state, Mydei chuckled, gently scratching behind your ears. “You’re quite the cute little thing, aren’t you?”

He brought you inside, casually petting your fur as he read through paperwork.

“You’re quite the well-behaved cat” he mused, fingers lightly scratching under your chin. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

You flicked your tail against his hand in protest.

At dinner, he set a small dish of food beside him.

“For my little guest” he said.

You glared at him but ate anyway.

At some point, he held you up, his eyes analyzing you closely.

“…Why do I feel like you remind me of someone?”

Maybe it was time to run.

The moment you finished eating, you bolted.

Mydei barely had time to react before you dashed out of the room, paws barely making a sound as you disappeared into the halls.

For a second, he just sat there, blinking at the now-empty space beside him.

“Running away already?”

His amusement didn’t stop him from standing up, golden eyes glinting as he chased after you.

You weaved through the garden, slipping through bushes and around hedges, your small form making it easy to avoid detection.

Or so you thought.

Because when you finally made it to a tall tree at the edge of the estate and climbed up to safety, a shadow loomed below.

“There you are.”

You looked down.

Mydei stood at the base of the tree, arms crossed, an expression of clear amusement on his face.

“You really thought you could escape me?”

Then, to your absolute horror, Mydei climbed up after you.

Your instincts screamed at you to move, to get higher, to escape.

So when Mydei finally reached up to grab you, you lashed out.

A startled scratch landed on the back of his hand.

You froze, realizing what you had just done.

He looked at his hand, a small scratch marking his skin.

Your ears flattened, guilt washing over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and licked the wound.

Mydei went completely still.

“That’s not how you treat a wound” he said, though his voice was more amused than scolding. “Honestly, are you a cat or a troublemaker?”

You huffed, lightly swishing your tail.

With an exasperated shake of his head, he reached out—this time, more carefully—and scooped you into his arms.

“You’re coming inside. No more running off.”

Even as he carried you back, even as he got someone to properly treat his hand, even as he kept you close for the rest of the evening—

You had a feeling he was never going to let you live this down.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You shifted slightly, feeling warmth pressed against you—something solid, something comforting.

Your ears twitched.

Wait.

Your ears?

Your tail?

Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly looked down at yourself.

Hands. Fingers. A normal-sized body.

You were back to normal.

Which meant—

A slow, sinking realization hit you as you felt the steady rise and fall of someone else’s breathing right beside you.

You turned your head—

And came face to face with Mydei.

His arm was draped around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

You were in his bed.

What. The. Hell. How did this happen?!

You wracked your brain, trying to recall the night before—but all you remembered was him carrying you back inside. At some point, you must have fallen asleep, still in your small form.

Which meant—he had probably taken you to his bed to keep an eye on you.

But now that you were back to normal, you had to get out of here.

Slowly—very slowly—you tried to move.

The moment you even shifted, Mydei’s arm tightened around you.

“Mm… Trying to escape again, pet?”

“I—I wasn’t—”

“Then why are you trembling?”

You were trembling. Your body was practically vibrating with embarrassment. This was not good for your heart.

“I—um—”

Before you could say anything else, he suddenly reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“…Back to normal, hm?” His voice was softer now, “Shame. I rather liked carrying you around.”

Nope. You were leaving.

You quickly tried to roll away—only for his grip to pull you back.

“Ah, ah. Not so fast.”

You squeaked. He chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.

With a sigh of mock disappointment, he finally loosened his hold. “Fine. I suppose I can let you go… for now.”

You didn’t waste another second, bolting from the bed.

You had spent the entire day hiding.

The embarrassment from that morning still burned in your mind, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let Mydei see you again so soon.

Unfortunately, your stomach had other plans.

By the time evening rolled around, hunger had fully betrayed you.

Your ears flattened as you peeked out from your hiding spot, making sure the path was clear before sneaking towards the kitchen. If you were quick, you could grab something to eat and disappear again.

You didn't believe in your own eyes. Standing at the stove, sleeves casually rolled up, was Mydei himself. You nearly turned around immediately, but your stomach let out a small, betraying growl.

Mydei didn’t even turn around.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up. Hiding all day must’ve been exhausting.”

You swallowed down your embarrassment and shuffled over, cautiously standing beside him.

“…You cook?”

He smirked, stirring the pan. “Occasionally.”

The warm scent of food filled the kitchen, and despite your shame, your tail gave the tiniest flick of anticipation.

Noticing this, Mydei chuckled.

“You must be starving.”

You refused to answer, but your stomach growled again, exposing you.

Without warning, he picked up a piece of the food with a fork and held it up to your lips.

“Here, eat.”

You hesitated.

He raised a brow. “What, suddenly shy?”

Your ears twitched in protest. He was doing this on purpose!

Still, hunger won in the end.

You leaned forward, taking a bite.

…It was good.

Really good.

Your tail swayed slightly before you could stop it.

Mydei noticed immediately.

“You like it?”

You quickly turned away, trying to hide your reaction. “It’s… decent.”

He chuckled, clearly seeing right through you.

But instead of teasing further, he simply fed you another bite.

And another.

Until you realized—

You hadn’t even picked up a plate.

You were just standing there, letting him feed you.

Just as you were finishing your meal, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your ears.

A man strolled into the kitchen, dressed in deep navy robes embroidered with intricate golden thread. His jewelry glimmered under the warm candlelight—rings, necklaces, even a few delicate chains woven into his sleeves.

Your ears perked up.

Shiny.

The man exuded a regal yet laid-back air, his dark brown hair tied back loosely as if he didn’t care much for appearances, despite the wealth he clearly carried.

“Mydei!” the man greeted smoothly, giving a short nod. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Mydei sighed. “That depends. If you’ve come to dump your problems on me again, I may have to reconsider allowing you in.”

The man laughed. “Oh, don’t be so cold. I bring interesting news.”

You barely paid attention to their conversation because you were too distracted by the gold. It wasn’t your fault! It just—sparkled.

You stood behind Mydei, eyes locked onto the shimmering rings as the man casually gestured while speaking. The way the candlelight bounced off the metal, the soft clink they made whenever he moved his hands—

Your tail flicked in fascination.

Mydei noticed. His golden eyes glanced over his shoulder at you, catching the way you were so entirely focused on his guest’s accessories.

And yet, you didn’t care.

You just kept staring.

A chuckle escaped his friend. “Well, aren’t they an interesting one?”

That was when you finally snapped out of it, realizing how obvious you had been.

Heat rushed to your face, and you quickly straightened up, clearing your throat as if that would erase the past minute.

The man smirked in amusement before offering a slight bow. “Elias Von Luthen. A pleasure to meet you.”

You hesitated for a moment before murmuring your own name in response.

He smiled, then added, “I must say, I don’t often see Mydei with company. You must be rather special.”

Your ears twitched, and Mydei merely sighed. “Don’t start.”

Elias ignored him, continuing, “Actually, I came here because I’ve been dealing with a rather elusive group. My companion has been helping me, but we could always use more sharp senses.”

He paused, glancing at you.

“If you’re interested, you could accompany me. It would be beneficial to have another of your kind along. You’d be well compensated, of course.”

You blinked. You weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. The thought of traveling, using your skills, and even learning from another hybrid was tempting.

But before you could even consider it, Mydei spoke first.

“They’re not going anywhere.”

Elias raised a brow. “Oh? I wasn’t aware you had them bound to you.”

“I don’t. But if you think I’d let my dear companion run off with you so easily…”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking toward you.

“…Then you clearly don’t know me well enough.”

Elias finally stood, stretching his arms as he let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, this has been quite the pleasant visit, but I should be on my way. My friend is probably wondering if I got kidnapped.”

He turned to you with a smirk. “If you ever change your mind about my offer, you’re always welcome to find me. Though… judging by Mydei’s reaction, I doubt you’ll get far.”

Your ears twitched, and you glanced at Mydei, expecting a sharp remark or at least a smug retort.

But strangely… he said nothing.

He merely watched Elias leave with an unreadable expression before turning on his heel and walking off without a single word to you.

Weird.

Usually, he’d at least tease you about your staring or make a sarcastic remark about Elias’ offer. But this time? Nothing.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious.

Hours passed, and you didn’t see Mydei again.

At first, you assumed he was just busy. Maybe he had some business to attend to. Maybe he was just giving you space.

But when you asked the maids if they’d seen him, one of them hesitated before replying:

“His Grace? He left the estate for something. We’re not sure what, but he seemed… oddly pleased about it.”

…That definitely set off alarms in your head.

Because if Mydei was pleased about something, it always meant trouble for you.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the city’s underground market, Mydei was browsing through a selection of rare and enchanted artifacts.

He held up a small, shimmering vial, speaking smoothly to the vendor.

“This,” he mused, watching the liquid shift inside, “will definitely do the trick.”

Oh, he wasn’t letting you off that easily.

If you thought he’d forget how easily distracted you were by shiny things…

Well. You were about to sorely underestimate him.

That night, you were restless. Mydei still hadn’t returned, and the silence was starting to get suspicious. You knew he wasn’t the type to just disappear without reason—especially after Elias’ visit.

Something was definitely up. But no one knew where he went, and that was even worse. Just as you were about to give up and retreat to your room, the main doors finally creaked open.

Mydei strolled inside, his coat draped lazily over one shoulder. He looked too pleased.

You immediately took a cautious step back. “...Where did you go?”

His smirk widened. “What, no ‘welcome home’?”

“You’re up to something.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, delicate vial filled with a swirling, shimmering liquid.

Your eyes caught the way it sparkled under the chandelier light.

Your instincts locked onto it immediately.

Shiny.

Wait.

You forced yourself to blink and look away. “...What is that?”

Mydei hummed, casually twirling the vial between his fingers. “Oh, just something interesting I found. Nothing too important.”

“If it’s nothing important, then put it away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Does it bother you?”

You knew that tone. That was his teasing tone.

Which meant he definitely had bad intentions.

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Hmm.”

The next thing you knew, he popped the cork open.

The scent hit you instantly.

Your instincts flared.

Your pupils dilated before you could stop them.

The air carried something sweet, enticing, almost hypnotic. Your tail twitched, and your body suddenly felt too warm.

“What—what is that?”

You took a step back, but your body felt wrong. Your senses were sharper, your ears picking up even the faintest rustle of fabric as Mydei took a step closer.

Your claws itched to grip onto something.

Oh hell no.

You spun on your heel to run.

But before you could even take another step, Mydei effortlessly caught your tail.

“My, my,” he mused. “Are you reacting to it?”

“Y-you—this—this is—!”

He gave the slightest tug on your tail, and your breath hitched.

Your instincts were screaming at you, but not in a way you could control. The warmth in your chest made you restless, and Mydei’s smirking face only infuriated you further.

So, you did the only thing that made sense in the moment.

You bit him. A sharp chomp right on his wrist.

“Ah—” Mydei barely reacted, only letting out a small chuckle, though you felt the slight tension in his arm. “Oh? That’s adorable.”

You glared up at him, ears pinned back.

“I hate you” you hissed, teeth still sunk into his skin.

“You sure about that? Because you’re still holding on.”

Your tail bristled, and you finally let go, stepping back with a sharp huff.

Unfortunately, you moved too quickly, causing something to topple over.

A loud clatter echoed through the hallway.

“My lord?” A servant’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

Your ears flattened in panic. If they walked in right now, they’d see the absolute mess you had caused—your ruffled clothes, Mydei’s slightly scuffed sleeves, and the very clear bite mark on his wrist.

You lunged for the door and quickly locked it before she could push it open.

Mydei chuckled, leaning against the desk like he was thoroughly enjoying this. “Hiding the evidence now?”

You shot him a glare.

“Everything’s fine!” you called out, trying to sound normal.

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Then, reluctantly, the servant’s footsteps faded as she left.

You let out a breath of relief.

But your problems were far from over.

Because Mydei was still holding that damn vial.

Your eyes flicked toward it.

Surely… surely it wouldn’t do anything to a human, right?

You lunged.

Mydei’s eyes widened slightly at your sudden movement, but before he could react, your hand smashed into his, knocking the vial loose.

Time seemed to slow.

The shimmering liquid tumbled through the air. It spilled all over him.

The scent immediately intensified, and before you could even process what had happened—

Your instincts snapped. Your ears twitched. Your body moved on its own. You pressed yourself against him and, without thinking—

You licked him.

Right on the neck.

Mydei was more than shocked.

You, however, did not stop.

Your tongue dragged over his collarbone, your hands clutching onto his coat as you instinctively nuzzled into him, your body overcome with warmth and an undeniable urge to—groom.

You had never been this overwhelmed before.

And yet, all you could focus on was how good he smelled, how nice he felt, and how much you wanted to—

“Ah.”

His voice rumbled in amusement.

You froze mid-lick.

Slowly—very slowly—you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

Golden eyes gleamed with pure satisfaction.

“My, my,” he murmured. “This is far better than I expected.”

Your soul left your body.

You tried to move away.

You really did.

But your body betrayed you, instincts still running rampant, and instead of pulling back—

You licked him again.

---

Finally, finally, it was over.

Whatever effect that damn vial had on you finally faded, leaving you exhausted, drained, and wanting nothing more than to curl up and disappear from existence.

Your body gave out, and before you could stop it, you instinctively popped back into your full cat form—small, fluffy, and completely sprawled out on top of Mydei.

You were too tired to care.

And, surprisingly… he didn’t move you.

You barely registered the way his hand rested against your fur, his fingers giving one last teasing scratch before he finally drifted off.

By the time morning arrived, you were back to normal.

And Mydei was gone.

You sat up, ears twitching, eyes darting around the room in slight panic.

He wasn’t here.

Lucky.

You weren’t sure if you could face him right now—not after what happened. Your tail flicked, a deep shame curling in your chest as you remembered every single embarrassing thing you did.

You licked him.

Multiple times.

You needed to erase that from history.

But more importantly—

You needed to ban that damn vial from existence.

Without wasting another second, you bolted out of bed, snatching up a pile of blank parchment and a stick of charcoal.

You were going to make it very clear that such a thing was never allowed in this house again.

It took hours.

But by the time you were finished, the entire estate was plastered with your angry little sketches—hastily drawn pictures of the accursed vial, each one crossed out with a big, aggressive “X.”

Some were on the doors.

Some were on the walls.

Some were even on Mydei’s office desk.

And to your absolute satisfaction, no one stopped you.

The servants said nothing.

Mydei—who had definitely seen them—said nothing.

He probably thought it was hilarious, but at least he wasn’t teasing you about it.

Yet.

For now, you stood back and admired your work, hands on your hips, tail flicking in satisfaction.

Good.

That thing was never coming back.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #mydeimos #mydei #hsr mydei #mydei x reader #honkai star rail mydei

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snowysosturn · 15 hours ago

Text

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 22

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, feeling of betrayal, mentions of loss of appetite, arguments, this ones a looooooong one

The sun is beginning its slow descent by the time I finally drag myself out of bed. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world in my chest. I need something, anything, to ground me, and right now, a cup of tea sounds like the only thing that might help.

That’s the plan. Go to the kitchen, make it, and come straight back up to my room. I’ll sit on my balcony and watch the last bits of sunlight disappear while I think about what to do next.

But my main goal: avoid Matt.

I slip out of my room, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. The house is silent apart from the distant murmur of voices outside on the patio. I catch a glimpse through the window, figures sitting around, but I can’t make out exactly who. Not that it matters. I’m not stopping to find out.

The only sound that gives away my presence is the low whirl of the kettle. I stand there, staring at it as it heats up, feeling every second drag out like an eternity. I grab a mug and put the tea bag in it so as soon as it clicks off, I can pour the water and milk, moving quickly but carefully. Just get in, get out.

Successfully, I make my tea.

Mission accomplished.

Now, I just need to make it back upstairs.

But just as I start up the steps, the sound of the patio door sliding open sends a jolt of panic through me.

Shit.

I don’t even turn to see who it is, I just pick up my pace, practically going up the steps two at a time.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, then..

BAM.

I nearly spill my tea everywhere as I slam into someone, my breath catching in my throat. I look up, and my stomach drops.

Matt.

For a split second, time slows. His eyes lock onto mine, searching, but I don’t give him the chance. Like I’m on autopilot, my feet keep moving, my mouth stays shut, and I walk right past him without a single word.

I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I reach my room, step inside, and lock the door behind me.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my mug a little tighter. I try my best to shake it off. It was just a few seconds. Just an unfortunate encounter in a house that now feels way too small.

I know I’m going to have to face him sooner or later. There’s no avoiding it forever. But I’m not ready right now, not for a one on one, not for the inevitable conversation.

So, instead of dwelling on it, I step onto the balcony. The sun is slowly dropping lower, so I sit here and try an appreciate the sky, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe..

Until there's a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No. No, no, no. If this is Matt, I swear to god.

But then I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n? It’s me.”

Nick.

Relief washes over me so quickly it almost knocks me over. I exhale, setting my tea down on the small table before walking back inside. I hesitate for just a second before unlocking the door.

Nick steps into the room, his expression soft but searching mine. "How you doing?"

I shrug lightly, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay.. I just made a cup of tea. Was gonna sit out on the balcony while the sun sets."

Nick nods, his eyes flicking toward the open balcony doors. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not" I say, stepping aside so he can follow me out.

We settle into the chairs. The silence between us is comforting, a huge difference to the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

After a minute, Nick clears his throat. "I ran into Matt coming up the stairs."

My body stiffens, fingers tightening around my mug. "Oh."

“I just asked if he had spoken to you yet, and he said no."

I huff out a breath, looking back toward the view. I take a slow sip of my tea before turning back to Nick. "So, what's your plan for the night?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm gonna go meet that guy."

I raise an eyebrow. "That guy? You’ve been talking about him for days, and I still don’t even know his name."

Nick hesitates, his expression shifting slightly. He looks at me like he's bracing for something.

I narrow my eyes. "Nick.. what?"

He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "His name is.. George."

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, we both burst out laughing.

"George?!" I manage between laughs.

"I know! I know!" Nick groans, covering his face. "I was hoping you wouldn’t ask."

"I'm sorry, but that’s just- " I laugh harder, shaking my head.

Nick grins, finally giving in. "I know I never pictured myself with a George but I swear, the way he is makes up for it though!"

"I'm sure it does.." I say, still giggling. "It's just.. George."

We end our fit of laughter and I don’t bother asking what everyone else’s plans are, especially after overhearing Chris earlier. My guess is he’s going to meet Rachel. Whether Matt tags along to meet Christina too is a different story. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m not moving from this room.

Nick doesn’t press the conversation any further, and I appreciate that. Instead, we sit there, laughter lingering in the air between us. I'm glad Nick came into me because suddenly I feel a little bit lighter.

Eventually, he checks his phone and sighs. "I should probably start getting ready."

I nod, still staring at the sunset. "Yeah. Have fun."

Nick hesitates for a second before standing. "You sure you’re good?"

I glance at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m good." I mean it is a lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

He squeezes my shoulder before heading out. I exhale, setting my empty mug down on the table beside me. I know I should eat something, try to distract myself, maybe even attempt to sleep, but I don’t move. I stay curled up in my chair, staring at the fading sky, wondering how everything changed so fast.

When I finally move to my bed, I pull the covers up around me, but even laying here feels weird. The sheets feel awful against me now, tainted with memories that once brought comfort but now only make my stomach churn. My mind spirals, picturing how easily our history could be replicated in his bed, with someone else. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting it all to stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the same place, the same questions, the same ache in my chest that refuses to go away. How could he do this? Did any of it mean anything? Was I just another passing moment for him?

I need to make it stop.

I turn onto my side, curling into myself, exhausted from it all. Being honest, my eyes hurt that much from crying, I don’t find it hard to fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning determined to be a new woman. I have a shower to wash away all of yesterday's sorrow, before pulling out the smallest blue bikini I could find. I make my way downstairs and throw myself together a small breakfast, considering I haven't eaten in over 24 hours but not forcing myself too much as my appetite still isn't fully back yet.

I take my breakfast outside to the patio and I settle onto a lounger, my plate resting on my lap. The villa is silent. Everyone must still be asleep, sleeping off their drunken choices, their reckless mistakes.

Good. I need the peace.

I take a slow bite of my food, staring out at the water. The pool glistens under the morning light, the water undisturbed. Today is a new day. A fresh start.

I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out after putting my plate under my lounger, determined to soak in the sun and let it warm the parts of me that feel cold and bitter. If anyone sees me out here, I want them to see that I’m unbothered. That I’m fine.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the sliding door creak open behind me. I don't turn to look. I don't react.

I realise it’s Nate and Nick coming out, both looking more awake than I expected.

"Morning" they say in unison, and I greet them with a small smile “Morning early birds.”

I turn to Nick first. "Soooo? How was your night with George?"

Nick rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s holding back his excitement for my sake. "It was good" he says simply.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nick."

He sighs, then finally lets the grin slip through. "Okay, fine. It was great, actually. We got drinks, had a laugh. He’s funny, really easy to talk to."

I smile at him, genuinely happy. "That’s what I like to hear. You deserve a good time."

Nick gives me a look, like he’s checking if I really mean it. I do. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean I want everyone else to be miserable with me.

I turn to Nate next. "And what about you? What were you up to?"

Nate stretches his arms over his head, looking far too well rested. "Didn’t move from my bed. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

I laugh. "Of course you did. You look like you just got back from a spa retreat while the rest of us look like we barely survived the night."

The three of us settle into conversation, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the lightness of it. But in the back of my mind, I know this moment won’t last. The rest of the villa is still asleep, for now. And soon enough, I’ll have to face the reality I’ve been trying to avoid.

"Is Chris up?" I ask Nate, trying to sound casual.

Nate shakes his head. "Don’t think he even came back here last night."

I swallow hard, nodding slowly. "Oh right"

There's been no sign of Matt either. That tells me everything I need to know.

Guess that means he went out with Chris and stayed with Christina last night again.

I should’ve expected it, but expecting something doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For the rest of the morning, it stays just me, Nick, and Nate chilling outside. The sun climbs higher, and the villa remains quiet, no sign of Chris or Matt. I sip on my water, listening to the distant waves crashing on the shore, slipping in and out of conversation with Nick and Nate as a distraction.

By midday, that peacefulness is interrupted. I hear the sliding door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

I lift my head slightly, peering through my sunglasses. Chris and Matt step outside together. Just seeing them like this, together, appearing at the same time, only further confirms what I already knew.

Matt was with Christina last night.

I can feel my heart break over again, but I refuse to let it show.

Without a word, I rest my head back down on the lounger, keeping my sunglasses on, blocking them out. I’m not ready for any type of conversation. Not yet.

Nate and Nick casually greet them, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Chris stretches, rubbing the back of his neck, and asks if anyone’s hungry.

My stomach twists at the thought of food. The second I saw Matt, my appetite vanished again. So I keep my mouth closed.

Nate says he is and disappears inside with them, leaving just me and Nick alone by the pool.

The quiet settles between us for a moment before Nick turns to me. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?” His tone sounds like he wants me to be there, even though he understands If I don’t want to.

I hesitate. The idea of sitting at a table with Matt, pretending everything is fine, feels impossible. I open my mouth to say no, but Nick is already cutting me off.

“You don’t have to talk to him at all” he reassures me. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

I exhale, chewing on my bottom lip. I do feel bad if I don’t go. It’s just dinner, right? I mean, the tension between Matt and I is like old times, nothing I haven’t had to deal with or experience before. The only thing is, the feeling in my chest is a hundred times worse than it ever was before.

“Okay” I finally say. “I’ll come.”

Nick grins, tapping my arm lightly. “We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift.

By now, it’s nearly 3pm, and the sun has drained me but nowhere near as much as the situation with Matt has. The exhaustion clings to me, both physical and emotional, and I know if I don’t rest now, I’ll be useless later.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap” I mumble, pushing myself up from the lounger.

Nick gives me a small smile. “Good idea. I’ll wake you if you’re not up in time.”

I nod again, grateful, and make my way inside. The second I hit my bed, the world around me fades.

When I wake up, the air in my room feels heavier, the remnants of my dreams still in my brain. I shake them off and head straight for the shower.

By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, I feel better. Maybe, tonight won’t be as bad as I think.

I walk out and go to sit at the vanity, but I feel like I need to lift the vibe even more.

A drink and music.

That’s what I need if I have any chance of enjoying myself tonight.

Still in my towel, I make my way downstairs, moving quickly so I don’t run into anyone. I pour myself a vodka lemonade, throwing pieces of ice into the fancy glass.

Running back up to my room, I shut the door, take a sip, and set my speaker on full blast. I turn on It’s ok, i’m ok by Tate McRae, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I let the music drown out my thoughts as I start getting ready, determined to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for tonight.

I move through my routine on autopilot, letting the music and the slight buzz from my drink carry me through. I’m not overthinking my outfit, my makeup, or my hair, yet somehow, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look effortlessly put together. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just given up on caring, but either way, I feel like this is the best I’ve ever looked.

I pick up my phone and text Nick, asking him to come to my room to take pictures. It barely takes a minute before he’s knocking on my door, slipping inside with an approving grin.

“Damnnnn!” he says, dragging the word out. “You look amazing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips. “You have to say that.”

“I really don’t” he laughs, already pulling his phone out. “We need evidence of this moment.”

We take a few pictures together, Nick hyping me up between shots, making me laugh just enough to keep it natural.

When we’re satisfied with the pictures, I wonder where it is we’re actually going to eat. “So, where are we even going for dinner?”

“Some Italian place Chris booked” Nick says, glancing at his phone. “He said he made the reservation earlier.

I nod, I love italian food, so I’m hoping this whole thing is just easy. I grab my purse, double checking that I have everything, phone, keys to the villa, money. I take a deep breath before heading downstairs with Nick.

The moment we step into the foyer, I see them. Chris, Nate, and Matt are all standing together, talking casually like nothing has changed, like the last few days haven’t flipped my world upside down. Matt looks up first. For the briefest second, our eyes meet, and I swear I see something flash across his face, it’s something, but I can’t make out what. But I don’t let myself dwell on it.

I adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder, forcing my expression to remain neutral. This is the closest I’ve been to Matt since the nightclub, since everything, but I refuse to let it get to me. Not tonight.

I tilt my chin up slightly, gripping onto my confidence like it’s my lifeline, and step forward like I don’t have a care in the world.

I stay locked in conversation with Nick as we leave the villa to make our way to the restaurant, trying to distract myself from the tension in the air. Chris lingers back slightly, eventually matching my pace as we walk. His presence next to me is quiet at first, almost hesitant, before he finally speaks.

"You okay?" His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but feels the need to ask anyway.

It’s a weird one. I haven't heard from Chris since everything went down. He’s been distant, not in a hostile way, but in a way that tells me he didn’t know how to approach me. And now, here he is, finally asking.

I glance at him briefly, weighing my response before settling on, "I will be."

Chris nods slowly, seeming to accept that answer. “Can we talk later? About everything?”

I exhale softly, not quite ready to dive into whatever everything entails but knowing that it’s overdue. I don’t think there was any malice from him in this situation. And I’m not mad at him at all. I would like to know what his thought process was throughout all this. And maybe, he's actually done me a favour. “Yeah,” I agree. “Later.”

That seems to be enough for now. The group keeps moving, making our way toward the restaurant. When we arrive, the guys step inside ahead of us, but I notice them mumbling amongst themselves, their voices low and almost hurried, like there’s some sort of confusion.

Something about their body language makes me pause, and I follow their line of sight before realizing exactly what has caught their attention.

Rachel and Christina.

They’re seated at a table near the back. Five empty seats are pulled out beside them, waiting.

A sharp, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.

Of course.

Of course they’re here. It was already bad enough having to see Matt, to sit across from him and pretend I wasn’t still breaking, but now, this?

I don’t even have to look at him to know. I can feel his presence, his hesitation. I wonder if he knew they’d be here. If this was always the plan.

My fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my purse as I will myself to keep my composure.

This night just got a whole lot harder.

Nick squeezes my hand gently, a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this. “What do you wanna do?” he asks quietly, his voice just for me.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Sit at the other end” I say, keeping my voice even, refusing to let this shake me any more than it already has.

Without hesitation, Nick follows my lead, guiding me toward the farthest end of the table, away from Rachel and Christina. I slide into my seat, positioning myself as far as I can from them, while Nick sits beside me, his presence like a barrier between me and whatever mess is sitting across the table.

Matt and Chris take their seats. Chris next to Rachel and Matt next to Christina. Whether it was planned or just happened naturally, I don’t know, but it doesn’t make a difference, the damage is done.

The tension is suffocating. You could cut it with a knife. I never thought at the start of this trip I’d be sitting diagonally across from Matt and another girl.

Nobody speaks at first. There’s an awkward shuffle of menus being picked up, the quiet clinking of silverware as waiters move around us, but no real conversation.

I keep my gaze down, focused on the menu even though I’m not really reading it. My appetite had started to come back earlier, but now? Completely gone again.

Nick, ever my lifeline in this nightmare, leans in slightly constantly making sure I’m okay. “You good?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod once, though I’m not sure if I mean it. “Yeah” I lie. “I’m fine.”

But we both know I’m not.

I try to keep my focus on the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the options, but it’s impossible to ignore Christina. She is relentless, shifting in her seat so she’s angled toward Matt, her body language screaming interest. The way she leans forward, the way her fingers reach out casually to graze his forearm as she talks, it’s all so intentional.

“Oh my God, Matt, you look so good tonight” she purrs, tilting her head as she studies him. “Did you do something different? Your hair? A new cologne?”

Matt barely reacts, only offering a tight lipped smile as he glances at her briefly. “Uh, no. Same as always.” he replies, going back to his menu.

But Christina isn’t deterred. She lets out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “God, I can’t believe we’re all in Hawaii together. It feels like such a movie moment, don’t you think?” She flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes. “Like, if this was a movie, we’d be the main characters.”

Matt huffs a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, don’t really take myself as the main character type of guy.” His tone is light, but there’s no real engagement. He’s keeping it neutral.

She’s not giving up, though. She leans in again, dropping her voice to something more sultry. “You know, I had so much fun the other night” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

My stomach twists, but I don’t react. I refuse to. Instead, I lift my glass of water to my lips, taking a slow sip as if I’m completely unbothered.

Nick shifts beside me, subtly kicking my foot under the table as if to say don’t react. I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for me to crack, but I won’t.

Chris, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly clears his throat. “Christina, didn’t you say this was your first time in Hawaii?”

It’s so obviously a distraction tactic, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to get her off Matt’s back or because he knows I’m sitting here, silently absorbing every word.

Christina finally tears her gaze away from Matt and glances at Chris. “Oh, yeah it is.” she says, waving a hand dismissively.

Matt doesn’t say anything. He just flips a page of the menu, like none of this is even phasing him. Meanwhile, Rachel is watching me like a hawk, waiting for a reaction.

I meet her eyes for a split second and give her the most nonchalant look I can muster before turning to Nick. “What are you getting?” I ask, my voice steady.

Nick glances at me, eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness before answering, “Probably the carbonara.”

I nod. “Good choice.”

Nate, ever the sweetheart, seems to pick up on everything, the way I’m keeping my head down, the way Nick keeps a protective presence beside me, the way Matt and Christina’s exchange is unfolding just within earshot. Without missing a beat, he slides into conversation with me and Nick as he’s seated opposite us, as if we’re in our own little bubble, separate from the tension on the other side of the table.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Nate asks, leaning forward with a smile. “I was thinking of heading down to the beach early. Maybe rent a jet ski or something. You two in?”

Nick catches on immediately, grateful for the shift in attention. “Absolutely. I’d love to see you wipe out within the first five minutes.”

Nate pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse you, I’m actually a professional. Very experienced!”

I can’t help but smile at their antics, grateful for the distraction. “Professional, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Nate smirks. “Oh, you will. And when I leave you both in my wake, don’t come crying to me.”

Nick scoffs. “Yeah, okay, Nate. Keep dreaming.”

As we laugh, it’s almost easy to forget the rest of the table exists, almost. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris sitting stiffly, glancing between me and the rest of the group, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hasn’t even touched his menu. He just sits there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he’s caught in the middle of something he never signed up for.

At one point, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something,to me, but then he hesitates, pressing his lips together instead. His fingers drum restlessly against the table. It’s almost like he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but he can’t.

I keep my focus on Nate and Nick as everyone gives their orders, letting them carry me through the moment, keeping me occupied. And for now, that’s all I need.

The food arrives shortly after, and I focus on my meal, keeping my eyes down, keeping my composure. If I just get through dinner, I’ll be fine.

But Christina doesn’t make it easy.

She just doesn’t stop, her voice carrying just loud enough to ensure I hear every flirtatious remark, every exaggerated giggle. It’s all so obvious, the way she leans toward Matt, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

“Oh my God, Matt, you’re so funny” she forces, brushing her fingers against his wrist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hasn’t even said anything that funny.

“We should totally do something after this!” Christina continues, tilting her head. “Maybe check out that tiki bar? It would be so fun.”

Matt doesn’t commit. “Maybe.”

Maybe.

That single word twists something in my stomach, because it means he hasn’t outright said no. And I know it shouldn’t matter but that doesn’t stop the sting.

As everyone starts discussing where to go next, I stay quiet, already knowing my answer. The only place I want to be right now is home. I only ever agreed to dinner, nothing more. The idea of trailing behind while Christina continues her performance, while Matt does whatever he’s doing, is unbearable.

I lean toward Nick and quietly tell him, “I’m heading back.”

He nods in understanding, not even questioning it. “That’s fair. I’ll go for one drink, then I’ll be home after. We can debrief, I’ll try to get more info.”

I manage a small smile at that. If there’s anyone I can count on to feed me the details later, it’s Nick.

We both stand, and I feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. If he wants to talk, he can find me when I’m not on the verge of either snapping or crying.

Nick walks me to the taxi rank just outside the restaurant, following behind me as we weave through the crowd. I should want to stay out, to drown out my thoughts with drinks and distractions, but all I want is to be alone.

“You sure you’re okay going back on your own?” Nick asks as we wait for a taxi to pull up.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just over it.”

Nick doesn’t push. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

A taxi pulls up, and he opens the door for me. Before I get in, he squeezes my hand briefly, just a reminder that I’m not alone in all of this.

I nod my thanks, slide into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I pull up to the villa and thank the taxi man, paying him for the fare. I step out of the car and as I do one pulls up directly behind me.

I freeze for a second, my stomach tightening as I watch Matt step out of the taxi behind me. Of all people, of all times, it has to be him.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I turn toward the villa, walking quickly up the steps, my heels clicking against the cobblestone pavement. I take my keys out of my bag, unlocking the front door.

I can hear him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, like he’s debating whether to call my name.

“Wait” Matt’s voice finally breaks the silence, and I feel his presence closer than I expected. “Can we talk?”

I let out a slow breath before turning to face him, the front door slightly open behind me. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to figure out where my head is at.

“Talk about what, Matt?” My voice is steady, but I can feel the exhaustion creeping in.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost.. nervous? “About this. About everything.”

“I’m not too sure what there is to talk about” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ve seen it all. I saw Christina in your bed. I saw how she was with you tonight.”

Matt’s face falls, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“And now, what? You think you can stand here and make some sorry excuse for your actions? Do you even realize how disrespectful that is?” My voice rises slightly, frustration taking over. “You can’t just act like nothing happened, Matt. You don’t get to do that.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, it’s a bit too late for that now.” I say, my voice sharp.

"I’m sorry." he mutters.

I let out a short laugh. "Yeah. So am I.”

Matt stands there looking at me, almost confused.

“I'm sorry I let you play with me for so long. Sorry I let you in, that I actually believed there was something real between us. But it’s clear now, isn’t it? Whatever tension was there, it was only ever sexual for you."

Matt steps forward, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"So what now?" I snap, my voice shaking with anger. "What’s your next move? You feel bad for how you’ve treated me, so you’ll do what? Buy me flowers? But never actually give them to me? Did you ever track down Christina’s ex to get her locket back too? Or was that just a special little stunt for me?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And don’t you dare try to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since that night in the house. Christina basically spelled out what happened in Vegas to me at the club.”

Then realisation hits me. “It makes sense to me now, the real reason you customised your jacket that way. You didn’t do it because you felt something for me. You did it so if the topic of her in Vegas came up, you had something to sway me from believing it, so you could keep stringing me along.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please listen to me? I didn’t even know they were coming out here” he says quickly, almost desperately, like that one fact will make any of this better.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot” he insists, stepping forward. “Chris was the one that brought them out here, he has a thing with Rachel and probably just-”

"-wants to smash?" I finish for him, my voice sharp.

"Yeah, Matt, I know. Just like you said before, that Chris only gave me a job because he wants to smash?" I tilt my head, watching as realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. I heard you when you said that."

Matt shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant that" he mutters. "I swear, I didn’t mean it like that."

"Oh really?" I fold my arms, my patience running dangerously thin. "How exactly did you mean it then, Matt?" My voice is sharp, no bullshit. "Because it sounded a lot like you were trying to discredit any of the work I do."

Matt exhales sharply, looking away. "It wasn’t about that, okay?" His voice is tight, like he’s struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I was jealous, maybe I was pissed off at the whole situation, maybe I just-" He stops himself, his jaw locking.

"Maybe you just what?" I push, my voice rising slightly.

His silence is louder than anything he could say. And then, it hits me.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Oh my god. It was projection, wasn’t it?" I take a step closer, my words like a slap to the face. "You said Chris only gave me a job because he wanted to smash, but really, that was just you speaking for yourself. You only ever kept me around because that’s what you wanted."

I take a breath, my heart pounding. "And congratulations, Matt. You got it."

Matt’s face falls completely.

"And then you got it from her too, only a matter of hours later." My voice is laced with disgust, and I see the tears welling in Matt's eyes, but I don’t stop. "It’s obvious to me now, you never had feelings for me. You never cared."

I take another step closer, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve kept inside. "I know you saw me leave the club that night. I know you saw me walk out. And not once did you check on me. Not once did you care enough to see if I was okay. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. I disappeared, and you moved on like I was nothing."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "And then you brought her back here, to the same villa I’m staying in, to rub it in my fucking face? Like this is some sick joke to you?" And then to keep doing it, over and over again, like it wasn’t enough to break me once?" My voice shakes, but not from weakness, from the sheer weight of the betrayal burning inside me. "You didn’t just move on, Matt. You made sure I saw it. You made sure I felt it. Like twisting the knife wasn’t enough, you had to keep pushing it in, again and again."

I shake my head, my breathing uneven. "And for what? To prove a point? To get back at me for something you thought I’ve done? Or was it just fun for you? To watch me fall apart while you played pretend with her?"

Matt’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but I cut him off before he can even try. "No. Don’t. Because there’s nothing you can say that will make this okay. Nothing you can do that will undo the fact that you chose this. You chose to hurt me. And I’m fucking done." I spit, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve held back.

"Because all you’ve ever done is choose to hurt me. Over and over again, like it’s second nature to you." I stop for a second to catch my breath, realising how pointless this all is. "I don’t even understand why you’re standing in front of me right now, when what you want is down at the bar with everyone else. Stop bothering me, and go back down there and get it."

Matt looks at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he wants to argue. Like he wants to fight his case. But he doesn’t get to, not now. Not after everything.

"In fact" I breathe out a bitter laugh, shaking my head, "don’t ever think of speaking to me again. Because it’s clear now, Matt, we were always better off when we didn’t speak. When we just ignored each other. Maybe that’s what we should’ve stayed."

My heart is hammering in my chest, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me.

I turn around and storm into the villa, slamming the door so hard behind me that the walls seem to shake with the force of it. But he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even try. Probably heading straight back down to the bar to get exactly what he wants. What he’s always wanted.

My blood is boiling as I march into my room, every step fueled by the sheer rage burning inside me. I feel like a bull, seeing red, ready to destroy everything in my path. But I don’t, because I don’t have time to waste on any of this anymore.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers, my vision blurring from unshed tears as I unlock it.

I can’t stay here.

I refuse.

I pull up the American Airlines website, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling too fast. I don’t even hesitate as I search for the first available flight back home.

The sooner, the better.

And when I find one, first thing tomorrow morning, I don’t even think twice. I press confirm before I can second guess myself, before the pain can catch up with me.

I’m leaving.

I’m done.

a/n : OOOOF. thats gotta sting.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

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how-do-i-write-that · 12 hours ago

Text

I do feel like this post gives solid base adivce but lacks some context that is helpful to understand why certain choices work. I would recommend beginner writers to try to understand what effects certain choices have, or rather, what sounds good to them personally when reading! And once you've figured out what sounds good to you, replicate it in your own writing.

I'm just going to put some of the points in a bit of context (in regards of my own personal opinion!) to hopefully help with understanding how they work.

1. "the floor shifted beneath her feet" is not showing, it's idiomatic. it still works better than using "she was sick with shock" as it draws more of a picture for the reader to imagine in their head. If you truly want to show and draw a bigger, more detailed picture, you can combine idiomatic language with some telling elements i.g. "Her breath was stuck in her throat and though her feet were frozen in place, it felt as if the floor shifted beneath them." Makes it easier for the reader to imagine what exactly is happening without saying "yeah she's shocked"

2. I have no gripes with scene breaks but for the love of god, do not put several asterisks or other random ass symbols in a row. They are a nightmare for screen readers, so if your writing is supposed to be read from a screen just don't use them. Put only one single one if you absolutely must (or if whatever you're using to upload/publish allows you to use dividers that can be parsed by screenreaders use those instead). Also if you really have to use them, be mindful that you're not breaking up paragraphs and topics that belong together. I personally also believe you don't have to rely on extra visual cues to inform your readers about a pov or scene change. Use words. Use line breaks and paragraphs. That's more than sufficient.

5. Don't end every chapter on a cliffhanger but always give a glimpse of what's next. You can conclude an entire subplot at the end of a chapter, with no action that needs to be cut right there and simply letting your character say something like "I managed to do X, now the next step is Y." Getting a bit of a glimpse of what's happening next without detailing it will help raise your readers' curiosity.

6. and 7. Yeah, you should focus on the important stuff in a scene instead of every single detail that lead up to it, but GoT is a great example why always subverting expectations might not be the wisest choice. Adding to point 10 here: just write whatever is fun to write to you. If you have fun, it is likely going to reflect in your writing. And if that means writing your character going grocery shopping and all goes according to plan, then so be it. Your readers might find it boring, true, but not every single little scene has to be the most interesting and impactful scene if you're just starting out.

8. Epiphets are not the devil, but you should only really use them for characters that have not yet been introduced or whose names will never be revealed. You wouldn't talk to your friend about "the blonde man" if the blonde man was your mutual friend Max you've both known for years. You'd just talk about "Max". So if your character's name is known, use it. If not, epiphets that describe the new character's most prominent features are fine.

Overall, write whatever is fun to write for you, no matter how well received it is, particularly if you're just starting out. If you want to improve on a technical level, read books from different time periods, different genres, different authors, different cultures and see what you personally like about them. Read fanfiction. It doesn't matter. You don't even have to read the whole thing if you end up not liking it or not finding enough time. But figure out what you like and then try to replicate that. (Be it sentence structures, usage of many/few adjectives, certain phrases, how chapters are structured, narrative voice, dialogue, how characters are described or characterized, etc. etc.)

No matter how small it may be, if you find a certain something in a writing you find awesome, try to write in that something, too. And if it's about your cat making a big meow meow fuss because food!! then that's fine, too.

tldr; read shit + find out what makes it good to you -> try to write something with theGood -> own writing sounds good to you -> happy + fun (-> reader also happy and fun)

my 10 holy grail pieces of writing advice for beginners

from an indie author who's published 4 books and written 20+, as well as 400k in fanfiction (who is also a professional beta reader who encounters the same issues in my clients' books over and over)

show don't tell is every bit as important as they say it is, no matter how sick you are of hearing about it. "the floor shifted beneath her feet" hits harder than "she felt sick with shock."

no head hopping. if you want to change pov mid scene, put a scene break. you can change it multiple times in the same scene! just put a break so your readers know you've changed pov.

if you have to infodump, do it through dialogue instead of exposition. your reader will feel like they're learning alongside the character, and it will flow naturally into your story.

never open your book with an exposition dump. instead, your opening scene should drop into the heart of the action with little to no context. raise questions to the reader and sprinkle in the answers bit by bit. let your reader discover the context slowly instead of holding their hand from the start. trust your reader; donn't overexplain the details. this is how you create a perfect hook.

every chapter should end on a cliffhanger. doesn't have to be major, can be as simple as ending a chapter mid conversation and picking it up immediately on the next one. tease your reader and make them need to turn the page.

every scene should subvert the character's expectations, as big as a plot twist or as small as a conversation having a surprising outcome. scenes that meet the character's expectations, such as a boring supply run, should be summarized.

arrive late and leave early to every scene. if you're character's at a party, open with them mid conversation instead of describing how they got dressed, left their house, arrived at the party, (because those things don't subvert their expectations). and when you're done with the reason for the scene is there, i.e. an important conversation, end it. once you've shown what you needed to show, get out, instead of describing your character commuting home (because it doesn't subvert expectations!)

epithets are the devil. "the blond man smiled--" you've lost me. use their name. use it often. don't be afraid of it. the reader won't get tired of it. it will serve you far better than epithets, especially if you have two people of the same pronouns interacting.

your character should always be working towards a goal, internal or external (i.e learning to love themself/killing the villain.) try to establish that goal as soon as possible in the reader's mind. the goal can change, the goal can evolve. as long as the reader knows the character isn't floating aimlessly through the world around them with no agency and no desire. that gets boring fast.

plan scenes that you know you'll have fun writing, instead of scenes that might seem cool in your head but you know you'll loathe every second of. besides the fact that your top priority in writing should be writing for only yourself and having fun, if you're just dragging through a scene you really hate, the scene will suffer for it, and readers can tell. the scenes i get the most praise on are always the scenes i had the most fun writing. an ideal outline shouldn't have parts that make you groan to look at. you'll thank yourself later.

happy writing :)

#general #advice #i derailed a bit in the end sorry #i also mean no hate with this i just believe it isn't as black and white with some of these points

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 1 day ago

Text

For the Both of Us

Where Y/N trains for a marathon with Harry, but an injury leaves her waiting for him at the finish line.

Word Count: 2,493

Content Warning: mentions of injury

It starts as an offhand comment, something I don’t fully think through before saying it.

“We should run a marathon.”

Harry doesn’t even blink. “Alright.”

I pause mid-bite of my sandwich, glancing up at him from across the kitchen island. “Just like that?”

He shrugs, casually tying his hair up as he leans against the counter. “Why not?”

I squint at him. “No questions? No protests? No ‘that sounds miserable, why would we do that to ourselves’?”

He grins. “I like running.”

Of course, he does.

I narrow my eyes, setting my sandwich down. “I thought this was going to be one of those things where I had to convince you, and then you’d be all dramatic about it.”

Harry smirks. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Unbelievable.”

Still, there’s no backing out now. And if I’m being honest, I don’t want to.

Training in New York happens because we’re here, and it makes sense. Early mornings in Central Park, the world just waking up as we weave through runners, cyclists, and dogs too eager for their own good. The air is crisp, the pavement familiar under our feet, and for once, I don’t hate running as much as I thought I would. Maybe it’s the routine of it, the way my body adjusts to the movement, or maybe it’s just Harry, a few strides ahead, turning back every now and then with an easy grin like this is the most natural thing in the world.

“You alright back there?” he calls over his shoulder.

“Shut up,” I pant, pushing forward.

He laughs, slowing just enough to match my pace. “You’re getting better.”

“I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not.” He bumps his arm against mine. “One day, you’re gonna love this.”

I glare at him, sweat dripping down my back. “Doubt it.”

But then we go to Italy, and everything shifts.

We run because we’re already there, because it feels right, because some part of me—some stubborn, determined part—wants to prove him right. The streets are quieter in the early morning, the sun just starting to stretch across the sky as we move through small villages and winding hillsides. It’s different here, softer somehow. The air is warm, carrying the scent of citrus and fresh bread from the bakeries just opening up for the day. There’s no urgency, no dodging commuters or stopping at crosswalks, just open road and the steady rhythm of our feet against the earth.

Harry doesn’t speak much when he runs, but I can tell he’s in his element, moving effortlessly like he was made for this. I watch the way his shoulders stay relaxed, the way he breathes in even counts, the way he looks completely at ease, and for the first time, I get it.

At some point, I stop thinking about how much I want to stop and start thinking about how much I want to keep going.

And when Harry turns his head, catching my eye with a knowing smile, I realize he knew this would happen all along.

One evening, long after the sun has set and the warmth of the Italian day has settled into something softer, we sit on the terrace of our rental, sipping wine and watching the lights flicker in the distance. My legs ache, but it’s a good kind of ache, the kind that reminds me of everything we’ve done today, of the miles we’ve put behind us.

Harry stretches his legs out, rolling his shoulders before turning his head toward me. “We should do Tokyo.”

I blink at him, processing. “Do Tokyo?”

“The marathon.” He tilts his glass, watching the wine swirl before looking back at me. “We’ve done all this training. Might as well put it toward something.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “You said that way too casually.”

He grins. “Because I already decided.”

I arch a brow. “You already decided?”

“Mhm.” He takes another sip. “Figured if we’re gonna do a marathon, might as well make a trip out of it. Stay for a bit, sightsee. The weather will be nice.”

I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious. “And when, exactly, did you decide all this?”

A lazy shrug. “Somewhere between mile six and seven today.”

I groan, letting my head fall back against my chair. “I knew that second wind of yours was dangerous.”

Harry laughs, nudging my foot under the table. “Come on, you have to admit it’s a good idea.”

I lift my head, watching him. He’s relaxed, loose-limbed and comfortable in the way he always is when he’s made up his mind. And the worst part? He’s right. It is a good idea.

I sigh, feigning reluctance. “I can’t believe you’re using my own tactics against me.”

His smile grows. “So that’s a yes?”

I shake my head, unable to stop my own grin. “That’s a yes.”

He clinks his glass against mine. “Good. Because I already started looking at flights.”

The decision is made, and just like that, Tokyo becomes the destination, the marathon the reason—but not the only one. Training continues, days blending together with long runs, ice baths, and Harry reminding me that we actually signed up for this.

The trip comes quickly, faster than I expect, and before I know it, we’re stepping off a plane into the crisp Tokyo air, the city sprawling out before us in endless color and movement. It’s different from anywhere we’ve been—bright, electric, alive in a way that feels both overwhelming and exhilarating.

We settle in easily, our days leading up to the marathon filled with late-night ramen stops, temple visits, and walks through neighborhoods that feel like they belong in a different time. Harry’s the one who insists on going to every convenience store we pass, fascinated by the rows of neatly packaged snacks and drinks. I let him, if only because it means I get to watch the way his face lights up every time he finds something new.

“Are you ever gonna eat the food you actually buy,” I tease one night, watching him place yet another snack onto our growing pile.

He grins, unapologetic. “Eventually. Maybe.”

I shake my head, shoving a bag of matcha-flavored candy at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he says, tossing a Pocky stick into his mouth, “you love me.”

I don’t dignify that with a response, but the corner of my mouth twitches despite myself.

The night before the race, we sit on the floor of our hotel room, stretching out our legs and pretending not to be nervous. Harry leans back on his hands, rolling out his ankles. “You ready?”

I exhale, pressing my palms against my thighs. “I think so.”

He watches me for a beat, then nudges my knee with his. “You’re gonna do great.”

I glance at him. “You sound very sure of that.”

“I am.” His voice is steady, certain. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Something in my chest tightens, but I push past it, knocking my foot against his. “Don’t go leaving me in the dust tomorrow.”

He smirks. “I’d never.”

It’s a lie. He absolutely would.

But for now, I let myself believe him.

The morning of the marathon comes quietly, the city still stretching awake as we make our way to the starting line. The air is crisp, the kind of cool that settles into your lungs without biting. There’s an energy around us, a nervous hum of anticipation that thrums through the thousands of runners gathered, their breath visible in the morning chill.

Harry stands beside me, bouncing on the balls of his feet, loose and ready. He looks completely at ease, like this is just another run, another morning, another challenge he already knows he’ll conquer.

“Last chance to back out,” he teases, tugging lightly on the sleeve of my jacket.

I scoff, shaking out my arms. “Not a chance.”

His grin is wide, proud. “That’s my girl.”

And then the countdown begins, the crowd buzzing, the excitement thick in the air.

Three.

I exhale, steadying my breath.

Two.

Harry shifts beside me, the warmth of him grounding me.

One.

The horn blares, and we run.

Tokyo unfolds around us, the streets lined with spectators, their cheers blending into the steady rhythm of our feet against the pavement. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating all at once, the city alive with movement, the energy unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

Harry stays beside me, keeping pace with effortless ease, checking in with a quick glance, a subtle nod. I feel good, strong even, my body moving in sync with the course, my mind focused.

We pass temples and skyscrapers, bridges stretching over quiet rivers, the neon of Shibuya just a distant blur. The kilometers tick by, each one a small victory, each step bringing us closer to the finish.

And then—

It happens fast.

A misstep, a shift in the pavement, the sudden, sharp twist of my ankle. Pain shoots up my leg, white-hot and immediate, and before I can fully process it, I stumble forward, catching myself just before I hit the ground.

“Shit.”

Harry is there instantly, his hand on my arm, steady, solid. “What happened?”

I clench my jaw, testing my weight. It’s bad.

“I—” I try to step forward and nearly collapse. “—I think I’m done.”

Harry’s face darkens, his grip tightening. “Okay, let’s—”

“No.” I shake my head, inhaling sharply. “You have to keep going.”

His brows furrow, his jaw tightening. “I’m not leaving you here.”

I look at him, my chest rising and falling too fast. “Harry.” My voice softens, pleading. “You have to finish. For me.”

He hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll get to the medical tent, but you need to keep going.” I force a smile, swallowing against the frustration rising in my throat. “You trained too hard for this. You need to finish.”

His jaw clenches, his eyes scanning my face, searching for any reason to stay.

“Please,” I whisper.

A beat. A breath. And then he exhales, nodding once.

“Alright.”

He hesitates for just a second longer before reaching out, cupping the side of my face briefly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Don’t move too much, yeah?”

I nod, watching as he pulls away, glancing back one last time before taking off down the course.

A volunteer helps me over to the medical tent, their voice calm as they ask me basic questions—where it hurts, how it happened, if I can still move my foot. I answer automatically, my focus still on the course, my heart still pounding from the rush of adrenaline and frustration.

The tent is efficient, a blur of movement as runners come in and out, quick assessments, ice packs, stretches, taped-up ankles. One of the medics kneels in front of me, carefully rotating my foot as I wince.

“Doesn’t seem broken,” they say, pressing gently along the side of my ankle. “Probably a bad sprain. You’ll need to rest it for a while.”

I nod, barely processing their words as they wrap it up and hand me an ice pack. “Can I still walk on it?”

“Carefully. But you shouldn’t put too much pressure on it.”

I exhale, shifting in my seat. My race is over, but Harry’s isn’t. I glance toward the tent’s entrance, the noise of the marathon still pulsing just beyond it.

“Do you need to call someone?” the medic asks.

I shake my head, gripping the ice pack tighter. “No.”

Because I already know where I need to be.

I thank them quickly, carefully testing my weight before hobbling out of the tent, determination burning through the dull ache in my ankle. I won’t make it to the finish line in time to see him cross, but I’ll be there when he does.

Because if I can’t run this race, I can still be waiting for him at the end.

The journey to the finish line is slow, each step sending a dull ache up my ankle, but I push forward anyway. The marathon course winds through the city, but I take a more direct route, slipping through gaps in the crowd, careful not to put too much weight on my injured foot. My heart beats faster—not from exertion, but from anticipation.

By the time I reach the finish area, the air is thick with celebration. Runners stumble past the line, gasping for breath, clinging to each other in exhausted relief. The crowd swells with applause, cheers rising and falling like waves. I scan the finishers, my gaze moving quickly, searching.

And then I see him.

Harry moves through the last stretch, his strides steady despite the exhaustion weighing on his frame. His curls cling damply to his forehead, his arms pump with one final push, and when he crosses the finish line, his head drops forward, chest heaving as he slows to a stop.

A volunteer approaches, draping a medal over his neck, but he barely reacts. His hands find his hips, his head lifting as he drags in a deep breath—then, as if pulled by something unseen, his gaze shifts, scanning the crowd.

Looking for me.

I don’t move, don’t call his name. I just wait.

His eyes flick from face to face until they land on mine, and the moment they do, his entire body exhales. He doesn’t hesitate.

He moves toward me with purpose, stepping around other runners, dodging spectators without so much as a glance. When he reaches me, his hands find my face before I can say a word, his palms warm and firm, thumbs brushing just beneath my cheekbones. His breathing is still uneven, but his voice is steady when he speaks.

“Are you okay?”

I nod, swallowing against the tightness in my throat. “Yeah.”

His gaze drops to my wrapped ankle, his brows knitting together. “You shouldn’t be standing.”

I huff a soft laugh. “I had to be here.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I know,” I admit, and it’s quiet, because I know how much he means it.

He lingers, his fingers curling slightly at my jaw like he’s anchoring himself to me. His touch is careful, like he’s making sure I’m real, like he’s still coming down from the high of the race and the low of worry.

Neither of us speaks for a long moment, the noise of the world muffled around us. Then, finally, his lips twitch—not quite a smile, but something softer.

“So…” he murmurs, voice teasing but tired. “Do I get to pick our next stupid challenge?”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that slips through. “Not a chance.”

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh, and though his hands drop from my face, his fingers brush against mine before he steps back.

And even though I didn’t cross the finish line, I don’t feel like I lost.

Because I was here.

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saintvainglorious · 2 days ago

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Fics I Enjoyed in February - DC Comics Fic Rec List Part 3

To the shock of precisely no one, I'm still in DC Comics hell. Enjoy the fruits of my labor (reading so so many fics)

Here's fic recs Part 1 and Part 2!

Individualized Education Plan by @cowboysorceror & @deadchannelradio (General Audiences, 7k, 2024) Dick goes to Damian's parent-teacher conference. Damian endures the consequences of Dick being an extraordinarily attractive man. Left me wheezing on my bus ride to work, this fic is hysterical.

“Richard,” he says, in tones of the deeply suffering, “this place is a hostile environment. I must be collected post-haste, as after this latest indignity I am dropping out. Come at once, or I may die here.”

In Service by @smilebackwards (Teen & Up, 13k, 2023) Bruce refuses to let Tim be Robin. Tim, still determined to help, asks Alfred to let him train to be Bruce's next butler. I could not stop squeeing as I read this, deeply wholesome and great worldbuilding to boot.

Tim rings the doorbell of Wayne Manor for the third time in as many days, and for the third time, Mr. Pennyworth opens the heavy oak door. He looks tired and careworn and Tim knows for certain that he’s choosing the right thing now. Mr. Wayne isn’t going to let him anywhere near the Robin suit, but maybe Tim doesn’t need it. There’s another tack he can try.

this year's love by @flybynightwing (Teen & Up, 20k, 2023) A thoughtful and tender exploration of how Dick and Kory might get back together post-Infinite Crisis, featuring Tim being a little troll, Dick & Kory having So Many Issues to work through, and Donna not getting paid enough to deal with this.

Dick and Kory get back together while on vacation. It goes beautifully. If only vacations could last forever.

descartes by @deadchannelradio (Teen & Up, 5k, 2024) Jason finds out how weird Slade acts towards Dick. Yet another fic by deadchannelradio that had me cackling out loud.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jason decides aloud. “Next time I see that man, I’m gonna kill him.” “No, Jason, do not,” Dick says in the same tone Jason uses to tell his dog not to chew on his boots.

The Threat by @jackhawksmoor (General Audiences, 2k, 2022) Damian has some pointed opinions about the way Bruce treats Dick. A gripping Damian POV fic - I love a Damian who expresses how much he cares by via emotional manipulation, and Bruce's reaction is equally tantalizing.

"What are you talking about?" His father sounded puzzled. He had that tone in his voice that Damian always hated to hear. That careless, American tone. His father had never needed to earn his place in a family, so the idea that someone could take it away from him if he wasn’t worthy of it hadn't even occurred to him. Not yet.

A Talon After My Own Heart by @wildsofmarch (Teen & Up, 13k, 2022) A surprisingly well-adjusted Talon!Dick goes on a mission for Slade. I rec the whole How to Train Your Talon series, but this one's my personal favorite. They're so damaged your honor it's great.

There’s a Talon lying on his floor, guzzling his good whisky, when Slade walks into his safe house in San Francisco. “What are you doing here?” he says as he draws his sidearm and slides the safety off. Robin — Dick, he reminds himself — showing up unannounced is never a good thing. “Relax. I’m not here to kill anyone,” says Dick.

Leap, Fall, Fly by @malcyon (Explicit, 15k, 2019) Post-Red Robin, Tim and Kon go on patrol together, and then they go home. This fic is 100% my headcanon for how Tim and Kon would get together if they didn't start dating while Tim was Robin. Gorgeous, peak, no notes.

He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” Tim looks at him, amused. “Dude. I have, like, four.” Kon figures some stuff out. Tim helps.

Putting both hands over my mouth, I can only hope nothing's gonna come out by @hmslusitania (Teen & Up, 26k, 2024) Tim and Jon (now both in their 20s due to Jon's canon aging-up) pretend to date. Kon and Damian proceed to lose their minds. Funny, angsty, and ultimately really heartwarming.

“How unethical would it be to let him keep thinking we’re dating just to try and figure out what the hell is wrong with him?” “On a scale from ‘this is completely hinged behaviour and not weird at all’ to ‘cloning him unsuccessfully ninety-nine times’?” Tim nods. “I don’t know,” Jon says. He thinks about it. “Probably like a four.”

Shoulders by @bluegarners (General Audiences, 4k, 2024) Robin!Dick has a close call on patrol. Bruce is catastrophically bad at expressing love. I rotate Bruce's choices and dialogue from this fic around in my mind like a rotisserie chicken.

It’s as he’s assessing Goon #1’s shoulders that he hears it. Grhk. The sound of someone choking. (You are ten-years-old, and the world is wide open before you. You don't yet know how to worry for yourself. It is your father's job.)

Truth Serum is The Worst by @jackhawksmoor (General Audiences, 3k, 2022) Bruce is truth serum-ed and is very unwell about it. Nightwing!Dick is there to help. Bruce's stream-of-consciousness dialogue (and Dick's reactions) are totally engrossing; the love they have for each other looms large here.

Batman gets dosed with a truth serum and unexpectedly spends most of the time talking about how desperately he loves his children, how awesome they are, and how he wishes he was better at being a father.

i'll grab my light (and go with you) by @havenesc (General Audiences, 3k, 2024) Dick helps Robin!Jason after the kid gets into a fight at school. Sweet, spot-on-characterization for both of them.

“Come again?” “I…” Now, the tone is sullen, even in hesitation. “I got into a fight.” Dick glances at his far wall, still a little sleep-hazed as he puzzles together what exactly about a scrap requires a phone call. “With Bruce?” Dick asks tentatively. “At school,” Jason clarifies, and oh, yep, there’s the difference. That one’s a no-no.

the only people on a stranded boat by @unicorncoalition (Mature, 5k, 2023) It turns out that Dick will call Jason if he ever has to hide a body. I've reread this fic multiple times since first discovering it, it's a gem. The scenario is unhinged, the emotions are raw, and the dialogue is perfect.

When Dick contacts Jason in the early hours of the morning to ask for help, Jason is so thrown by the request that he drops everything and drives to Bludhaven. He is not expecting to find Dick dissociating next to the dead body of an unfamiliar man, nor is he ready for the revelations that follow.

i never noticed the clouds gather round (oh, how fast we fall, how slow we drown) by @this-world-of-beautiful-monsters (Teen & Up, 5k, 2022) Batman!Dick has a flashback, and Damian makes a deduction. I'm very picky with stories on Dick's family members finding out about Nightwing #93, and this one handles how Damian might react so flawlessly it hurts.

It's raining on a rooftop in Gotham and Batman isn't getting up. (Dick dissociates after a bad patrol and Damian comes up against the outline of something his mentor never wanted him to see.)

the higher fidelity by birdsofthesoul (Teen & Up, 3k, 2020) Bruce and Dick go on a road trip scavenger hunt to find a runaway Damian. Dick indirectly confronts Bruce with his questionable parenting decisions. The conversation they share in the diner lives rent free in my mind.

Bruce goes sheet-white, looking like Dick’s just cut him to the quick, and Dick can’t help but think they should have booked a flight, discretion be damned. This — this is why they don’t do road trips. Cars are like confessionals, cramped spaces built for coercing confessions, and neither of them are good with words.

O'er These Mountains I Would Fly by @lurkinglurkerwholurks (General Audiences, 2k, 2019) After saving an injured baby bird, Dick and Damian drive out to a wildlife rehabilitation center. A wonderful edition to the "Damian slowly learning to trust Dick early on in the Batman!Dick era" genre.

“Nervous?” Grayson asked. They had been driving for over half an hour, and this was only Grayson’s fifth attempt at conversation. It had been an unusually quiet ride.

and the shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light by @popsunner (Teen & Up, 5k, 2020) Post-Dick's death, Tim tries to be a brother to Damian. Featuring Tim's grieving headspace, his evolving relationship with his brothers, and his enduring status as the Emotional Support batkid.

Damian is around a lot more since Dick died, hovering like he’s looking for something that isn’t here anymore. It’s alright. Tim is used to playing the part of ghosts. Or: Dick is dead. Things change.

#fic recs #fanfiction #dc comics #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #kon el #timkon

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asterkatt · 12 hours ago

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ISAT ACT 5 SPOILERS!!

okay I said I was going to give more thoughts on act 5 of ISAT and then uh. I didn't. oopsies. but we're here now!!

I loved Odile's friendquest in this act SO much. one of my favorite things about the way the game handled Siffrin's actions throughout the entirety of act 5 in general is that everyone's reactions to him were so DIFFERENT. but not only were they different, they had reasons for being different. it wasn't just "Siffrin says something messed up, hurts someone's feelings, pushes it down, rinse and repeat". each "breakdown" was specifically tailored to be character specific. to fit in with how they've behaved in the story thus far, as well as how Siffrin feels about them/tends to respond to them in particular. with Mirabelle, it really was entirely accidental. Siffrin didn't even realize how their wording might come across in the moment. It wasn't him lashing out in any way - just him genuinely trying to cut corners. Odile?? Odile's was very different. it's easy to see that there's a lot of tension between Siffrin and Odile - more tension than there is with anyone else. Odile has been a thorn in Sif's side - constantly observing and watching and theorizing about why they're behaving strangely. I did the sus quest. Sif knows that she has the ability to figure it out. Consequently, they have to be way more aware of her than anyone else. (side note that's not entirely relevant to this but I want to bring it up - the fact Siffrin believes that her constant eye on him is because "she doesn't trust you" makes me sick. because that's not it at all. they might pretend it is. hell, she might act like it is. but it's not and she knows that. she knows it's because she's worried because she cares and Siffrin can't understand that.) so I feel like they took the "mistake" of messing up with Odile harder than they took any of the other interactions. because how could they be so stupid. how could they forget. how could he forget that she always figures it out.

so of course he lashes out. not only are they being faced with the same blinding mistake they've made over and over and over again, it's also a reminder that she doesn't trust him. (and why should she?).

and then she goes and makes it all worse by calling him a "friend". because they know that's not how she sees them. he believes that she doesn't trust him. so it must seem like she's directly lying to his face - and she thinks they're too dense to see through it.

I love that Odile doesn't back down. she doesn't shy away when they start yelling at her. she doesn't let it slide just because she made them upset (Isa and Mira both probably would - though Isa would try and get them to talk about it later). she pushes, because that's the only way she's going to get any answers.

the way you can feel her anger when Siffrin hits her where it hurts the most (without even seeing her face) is just AUHGSKJDHFKJSH. the writing of this game. the details. never cease to amaze me. I love the way she snaps back. she doesn't get angry, she doesn't yell - and yet somehow it hurts just as badly.

I also love the way Siffrin reflects on it - the way they acknowledge that "she was only worried about you!!!" because deep down he knows that their friends do actually care about him. the way Odile handles the situation afterwards as well - at the clocktower?????? I love that you can tell she's trying so hard to make the "right" choice to not endanger them when it's not what she wants. she doesn't want to leave Siffrin behind. If they weren't going to take on the King the next day, I guarantee you she'd be using anything in her power to figure out what was going on with him. I don't have the exact quote rn but at the end of the sus questline she mentions that she can't let something go when she finds it odd - and this is BEYOND odd. but she has to put the safety of the whole group and their mission first, and I love seeing that side of her.

#isat odile #isat #in stars and time #in stars and time odile #isat act 5 #in stars and time act 5 #isat thoughts #2nd post yapping about Odile let's go #i feel like this is somehow even more incoherent than the mirabelle one sorry #I was originally planning to combine this with my bonnie thoughts because I didn't think I had much to say on either #but I guess i did #whoopsies #will I ever get to isas #anyways odile I love you #isat spoilers #isat act 5 spoilers #in stars and time spoilers

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 hours ago

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@zepskies

You're welcome! I really loved that fic and I'm so excited to devour all of your Eomer fics to come 🤣

First of all I love the gif of Butcher and Ben. It fits this perfectly 😆!

Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵

It was also entirely self indulgent 👀

Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠

This is such a vibe, 24/7 😭 Why do no age appropriate guys look the way these men do? Why are all these men in their 40's out here serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner and all the age appropriate men barely serving snack time (LMAO)? Someone explain it to me!

lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️‍🔥)

As Tradition Dictates was living in my mind rent free when I wrote that and I'm not sorry 🤣 Plus this reader lives very much in a fantasy world with Butcher on a pedestal and when I continue it (because I want to make this one a series lol) it's going to be more about her separating the fantasy version of Butcher she has in her head from reality. Ben might also help her with that along the way 😉

lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)

Oh it's the best! I love making up superheroes (a lot of my OFC's were marvel based one million years ago 🤣) and finding random powers. Plus as @jollyhunter pointed out (and made me think more about), envisioning the scene where they realize exactly what the supe can do is hilarious! Because on one hand Ben isn't afraid of anything and Butcher doesn't really care, but the minute that someone turns into a swarm of locust... what are they gonna do? I know in my heart that the reader and Hughie were already in the car with the windows rolled up the second that supe started to multiply, while Butcher and Ben are trying to figure out if it's worth it. (it's not lol)

Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚

Oh my word, THANK YOU SO MUCH💗! Seriously this compliment is making me cry😭. It's my favorite thing about writing, describing the setting and nature in the scene to try and make it a little more immersive. One of my favorite writers is Willa Cather and she inspires me so much with her writing 🥰

Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.

There is no judgement here bestie, I'm in the same boat lol.

Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵 Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol

LMAO 🤣 Plus I was overly gratuitous describing Butcher, I had to give Ben a little something-something 😉

And oh yeah! I love this dynamic, Ben with an inexperienced reader, who's awkward (entirely self-indulgent). I think the fake dating trope with Ben could be so crazy and also a little cringe lol

Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment. ...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.

Isn't he being sooo selfless? It's sooo big of him to think about helping the reader like that. What a stand up guy. 😒

Oh yeah no. He's so attractive and such a jerk sometimes, but then you painstakingly peel back the layers and descover he's still an asshole, but just less of an asshole to you and a more lovable big grump. 🤣

OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗

That last one I cackled for two minutes after I wrote it down- it is so true. I think that particular situation has happened to everyone, tried to do something nice for someone they have a crush on, completely overthought it and then had to go hide in shame. 😭🤣 He's going to help her so much and I'm really excited with the sequence of events that I've planned out for the future series lol 🤗

Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆

He's already so gentle with her and I can't 😭 I honestly don't know what to call their dynamic because it's not enemies to lovers? Maybe it's "acquaintances to lovers" 🤣 with forced proximity. It's going to be the little things that wins her heart I believe 💗

I was thinking about sex and Ben a little bit for this fic (I mean I do that for all my fics lol), because fake dating tropes always have tension/rules made to provoke the inevitable (aka the fake daters falling in love).

I think that because of the way the reader is (being more inexperienced) Ben is interacting with a woman who's not used to a man who comes on as strong as he does. Because yes Ben is big and brash, and a bit of an asshole (🤣), but I don't think that Ben is the kind of asshole that forces someone to have sex with him. I don't think that Ben would willingly rape somebody and that's why I put that line in, because I think going forward with this series, Ben is going to understand that she's different than the other women he's been involved with. And there are going to be moments that he finds her boundaries and he might push them a little, but he still will care to uphold them. (If that makes sense? I'm also sorry that I got rambly lol)

Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.

Aww thank you! I'm happy you liked this one! Yes, I have decided to make it into a series and I'm still plotting it out a little. Tbh I built in little details in this fic I think subconsciously knowing I was going to make it into a series lol 😅 Because the fake dating is going to get them into a even bigger problem in the future 😉 But thank you so much for all your lovely comments my wonderful friend! And thank you for inspiring me with your Eomer fic! I can't wait to see the others you're going to write for him!! 💕

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary: When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips.

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood.

No man his age should look that good.

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands.

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you.

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly.

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap.

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher.

You were always distracted by him.

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face.

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out.

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one.

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin.

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you.

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy.

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up.

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle.

But you liked your job… sometimes.

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander.

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut.

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced.

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies.

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe.

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you.

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him.

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up.

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again.

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm.

“What?” You ask him.

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red.

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking.

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben.

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else.

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath.

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him.

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble.

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done.

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard.

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin.

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.”

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced.

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone.

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose.

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly.

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly.

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously.

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment.

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!”

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly.

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this.

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was.

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair.

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before.

Your mouth drops open in surprise.

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to.

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you.

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away.

“Fine.” Ben states.

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-”

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this.

Keep it together…

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin.

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight.

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you.

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

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nubiawrites · 2 days ago

Text

chapter ten

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. Sex. Talks of emergency contraception.

Summary: Iriye is forced to face the music at the table read for Paradise Lost but Aaron isn't ready to fall back.

Notes: Better late than never. I wanted to write more of their... lovemaking scene but I will consider releasing outtakes from this story. Enjoy! Drop comments in my ask box, under this post or reblog. I love the responses.

MASTERLIST

Aaron was used to tense situations. Being an actor meant long days and nights. Different personalities collaborated and clashed with each other. This was a given in every life situation. He had seen his fair share of it, but being in a situation like this was never fun.

Things were a bit tense at the official table read for Paradise Lost, and it hadn't even started. Aaron could sense it, the energies in the room clashing a bit. Aaron saw Tamara had her hands on her hips whenever she talked to someone, her voice low, but her eyes looked frustrated. She was trying to be polite, but there was a tenseness.

Nelly was too jittery. The younger woman always had a pep to her step and a joke on her lips, but she was working overtime. He could tell she wasn’t as cheerful but more on the move, her hair in a messy bun rather than the loose waves she kept together.

“Here’s your script,” Nelly said to Aaron, not stopping for their usual small talk.

“You drunk anything that isn’t dark, Nelly,” Aaron stated, trying to get a chuckle.

“I don't like that accusation,” Nelly stated before she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,”

“No, you’re fine. My apologies,” Aaron gave her a small smile. Nelly returned it, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “If you want, I can grab you something if it helps,”

“Thank you, but no thank you. I don’t want to leave Tamara and Iriye alone together,” Nelly said before leaning in. “They are not talking,”

“Isn’t that good?” Aaron asked.

“Aaron, that’s the worst thing. They’re doing this weird passive-aggressive attitude with each other,” Nelly rambled on.

“I have a feeling that I might be the cause of that,” Aaron admitted.

“Yeah, I know. Tamara was freaking out when she realized Iriye was at your place. I didn’t tell her anything. I figured Iriye would,” Nelly shrugged.

“Well, I thought Iriye would, too,” Aaron said. Nelly looked around.

“Walk with me to get something not dark from craft services?” Nelly asked him.

Aaron nodded, and Nelly quickly put the rest of the scripts for the cast at their proper seats.

They wandered over to the craft services area set up for the table read. Nelly immediately grabbed a bottle of water, causing Aaron to chuckle.

“To think I was going to offer my great advice giving skills to you about Iriye,” Nelly rolled her eyes before beginning to look over the snacks.

“Forgive me,” Aaron said througha chuckle. “I’m sorry. I mean it,”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Nelly pointed a pretzel at him before eating it. She took her time chewing and then proceeded to wash it down with some water before talking. “Iriye has always kept her cards close to her chest,”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Aaron said, grabbing his own trail mix from the table.

“But once she opens it, Iriye really will give endless love and devotion. I’ve seen it,” Nelly admits.

“With Jay?” Aaron asked. “I kind of figured that they were an item,”

“Yeah but I don’t think she was ever in love with him. And she ended that before she could find out,” Nelly whispered.

“But she was able to be around you guys with him. She never even told you and Tamara about me,”

“I been knew you two were a thing. I didn’t need her to tell me. Hell, I think I knew from the time we all met in the meeting with Davis,” Nelly stated. Aaron raised one eyebrow at him, and she gave him a look. “Please. Iriye went all cool and collected. That’s her tick for nerves. And you’re a great actor. But not when you have the upper hand on someone. You’re too smug,”

“You really notice everything?” Aaron stated. Nelly raised her bottle.

“If you want to be the best assistant, you gotta notice everything and the cracks in between,” Nelly stated. “Iriye is a complicated woman. Delicate underneath it all, but she’s scared to show it,”

“I know. I get why. She told me about her dad leaving…” Aaron said. Nelly paused while sipping her bottle of water.

“Wait, she talked about her dad?” Aaron could see the gears working overtime in Nelly’s head.

“Yes, she did,” Aaron was about to ask something else when he heard Nelly’s phone ring.

“I’m sorry. I gotta take this,” Nelly said, whispering sorry before she got on the phone.

Aaron returned to where his script was, grabbing his pen and adjusting his glasses. As he was beginning to highlight his lines, he felt the chair beside him creak, and he looked to see Vivian.

“Crap, I’m sorry,” Vivian said apologetically, adjusting her bag on the back of the seat.

“No, you’re good,” Aaron said, adjusting himself so she had room to sit. She gave him a small smile before she took out a pencil case and pulled out pens of different colors, arranging them in a way that made Aaron curious.

“What?” Vivian asked, a nervous smile making it to her face as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Aaron pointed out her pens. “There’s a method to my madness,”

“No, we actors have ways we handle things,” Aaron raised his hands in surrender.

“How are you handling all of this?” Vivian asked. “You know, thrown into the spotlight, and it’s full-blown on you,”

“It’s something,” Aaron admitted. “I was asked to host events and things. And I keep asking myself, why me?”

“It can be a lot,” Vivian nodded. “Doing all the extra when all you want to do is just act,” Aaron could hear something in her words. “Can I give you some advice? One actor to another,”

Aaron sat up some more, ready to learn.

“Know what you’re willing to fight for and what you’re ready to say no to,” Vivian said. “I wish I had learned that a long time ago. Fortunately, I had some good people in my corner, along with some who cared more about the money than my well-being.”

Aaron nodded, knowing of Vivian through his sister’s tabloids and gossiping when they were younger. Vivian seemed to smile through it all, even when people didn’t have the nicest things to say from what he saw.

“When you set what you will and will not take, it makes it harder for people to shake those boundaries,” Vivian explained. “And trust me, with the level of fame you’re about to experience once your show comes out, you’re gonna need it,”

Aaron nodded, taking it in as Vivian checked her phone, a smile taking over her face.

“It’s my boyfriend. Every time I have a first table read, he always sends me a picture of our dog with a cheesy message,” Vivian explained, showing him the picture. Aaron smiled as he saw an actor he had seen before in something, holding the dog up and a message underneath the photo.

“Adorable dog. He takes after his father,” Aaron joked, Vivian chuckling.

“He does,” Vivian said. “Honestly, it’s nice to know after this and some meetings, I have Gabe and Charleston to go home to,” She said. “They make the boundary testing all worth it because, at the end of the day, I’m living my dream and going home to them,”

Aaron thought about those words, looking toward where he felt eyes on him. He saw Iriye, seeing her in the flesh for the first time in a week. She looked frazzled, and he just wanted to smooth the worries from her head. He would kiss her until she talked to him about the most random things in her life. Aaron would be happy to bask in her presence.

Iriye turned her attention back to the production assistant helping with the table read, not wanting to bud into whatever Aaron and Vivian were talking about. They were too close for her liking, but what could she do? Yell at the two romantic leads of the film she wrote and produced. Tell Vivian to back off of Aaron because he was her man.

But Iriye couldn’t do that because she didn’t want to open up that can of worms. They never explicitly said what they were doing with each other during the three months they had been in each other’s lives. That’s where it got tricky because Iriye was comfortable with what they were doing: going on mini dates at each other’s place before sleeping with each other. Late nights in the grocery store or early mornings trekking through the used bookstores Iriye loved. Eating food that was going against his Lanterns fitness regime and watching him try to work it off with his Lanterns regime at the home gym in his apartment.

Iriye just loved being around him. She loved him. It felt too soon to say that. The moment she realized she was really into Aaron was when he dropped her off at her apartment after picking up the morning-after pill. He seemed calm, but she could tell he was agitated. But he still offered to stay with her, having read the side effects on the box as they sat and waited to figure out the next steps of their plan.

“It says side effects include nausea and vomiting,” Aaron read plainly. Even telling her the worst thing sounded great coming from him.

“It’s not my first rodeo with the morning-after pill,” Iriye said nonchalantly.

“So, you’ve done this before?” Aaron stated.

“There was a broken condom situation when a fellow intern when I moved to LA,” Iriye explained. But she didn’t explain how the pill always tended to make her feel like she was dying. She always got the brute force of the side effects.

“I should probably stay then,” Aaron said. “Make sure you’re alright,”

“I don’t need you for this part, Aaron,” Iriye stated too quickly. “It just makes me sleepy, so I’ll be fine. I’ll probably sleep this thing off all weekend. And you probably need to get prepped for the table read and all,” Iriye knew it was a few days off, but in being around Aaron, she knew when it was playtime and work time.

“Iriye-” Aaron reasoned as she got out of the car.

“See you at the table read,” Iriye stated, walking towards her apartment.

And it was a terrible couple of days. Iriye had been fielding calls and texts from Tamara all while trying not to throw up from the morning after side effects. Once it came to Monday, she decided to stay home but not before Tamara could come banging at her door. Iriye had to pretend to not be home before seeing Tamara slip a note under her door. She waited a while before moving to grab the paper and read it: you can’t run away forever.

Now Iriye was back at the lot, ensuring everything was under control until she saw Tamara.

“Iriye,” Tamara was in professional mode.

“Tamara, I-”

“We’re using your latest script,” Tamara said in her professional voice, and Iriye raised a brow. “We can’t do this right now,”

“I know,” Iriye stated.

Tamara moved to talk with someone else on the sound stage while Iriye went to drop off her belongings at her seat. People started gathering around, with Tamara leading the group in quick introductions of the actors and creatives involved in the film. Iriye quickly introduced herself. Vivian led the group in a small round of applause, and she gave a small and curt smile.

As the reading began, Iriye was lost in everyone getting comfortable with each other. each finding their character's voice and emotional journey. One of her favorite things about being a writer was seeing the discoveries others found in and between the lines of her words.

They took their first break during Act One, and Iriye grabbed a snack from craft services. But she should have been smarter because Aaron was right on her tail.

“We need to talk,” Aaron spoke lowly under her voice. Iriye checked her watch.

“We can’t right now,” Iriye shook her head.

“We got fifteen minutes,” He said. “Enough time,”

“We said we wouldn’t do this, us, on the lot,” Iriye reminded.

“Bullshit, Iriye,” Aaron said under his breath.

“Excuse me?” Iriye was shocked at him being snappy with her. He never was.

“Bullshit. You weren’t saying that in your office,” Iriye cleared her throat, hoping no one heard. “Walk with me, Iriye Edwards,”

Aaron began walking ahead, and Iriye glared at his head. He turned towards her.

“Please, Iriye,” Aaron’s eyes softened at her even if his voice was sharp and clear. Iriye huffed and looked around before following him out. Still being the gentleman, he held one of the doors open for her, following behind her. They walked briefly before Aaron stopped them at a familiar structure: the soundstage where they met.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Iriye stated.

“How are you feeling after the weekend?” He asked her, a nervousness taking over him.

“I took the pill if that’s what you were wondering,” Iriye stated. “I forgot how sick those things make me,” She said too much, seeing Aaron’s eyes soften more. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like when people see I’m sick,”

“What’s wrong with seeing you sick,” Aaron said.

“Because I was gross and hunched over a toilet,” Iriye said. “I can take care of myself,”

“I know that, Iriye. But when you’re with someone. When you want to be in a relationship with them, you let them see all sides of yourself: the good, the bad, and the ugly,” Aaron said.

“Well, here you go. You’ve reached the bad part,” Iriye said. “I self-sabotage before you get a chance to figure out I’m not good enough and leave,”

“You think I’m going to leave?” Iriye chuckled.

“Aaron, it’s a given,” Iriye stated. “You’re handsome. You’re talented. And so deserving of every chance you’re going to get,” Iriye bit her lip. “But so am I,”

Aaron raised a brow at her words, moving closer to her.

“There’s going to be a point where it’s going to be what I want or what you want,” Iriye said. “And I’m afraid that when we get to that point, one of us might make the wrong choice,”

“So you would rather quit while you’re ahead?” Aaron asked, looking at her deeply in her eyes. “Answer me, Iriye,” His gaze was intense, and she wanted to look anywhere but him. But she was in his orbit and hated how close she had allowed him to get.

“I-I don’t know,” Iriye tried looking at his sweater. Aaron tilted her chin up to look up at him.

“We need to talk about this, Iriye. Not right now, because we have to return to the table read. But we’re gonna talk about this,” Aaron stroked her chin.

“Okay,” Iriye said.

Iriye and Aaron pulled apart, trying not to walk too closely to each other as they made it back to the soundstage. Iriye let him enter first, and Tamara stopped her just as she was going to go in.

“Tamara, we’ve got to get back,” Iriye muttered.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Tamara asked. Iriye bit her lip.

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” Iriye whispered.

“But you didn’t,” Tamara said. “Is this about Jay?”

“No,” Iriye admitted. “It had nothing to do with him,”

“I know he and I are still being friends; it bugs you, but he was my friend before you were his girlfriend,” Tamara stated.

“I know, Tam. I wasn’t asking you to take sides,” Iriye said.

“But I wouldn’t have said anything if he asked about your dating life. Maybe that’s why you didn’t tell me,” Tamara stated.

“I know you wouldn’t,” Iriye admitted. “I just… I’m figuring things out, and I didn’t want to say something, and it didn’t work out. Saying something would make it real. Maybe too real,”

“I saw you two at the snack table,” Tamara said. “I was going to talk to you, but I saw him and you,”

“We’re about to start again,” A production assistant interrupted them. Iriye nodded toward them, and they left.

“You like him. Probably more than you ever liked Jay,” Iriye heard Tamara’s words.

“We need to focus back on the table read,” Iriye rubbed her on her jeans.

“It’s okay to feel for him, Iriye. You deserve to be happy,” Tamara said.

“I’m sorry, Tamara,” Iriye moved to hug Tamara, and she embraced her back.

“I’m sorry, too,” Tamara squeezed Iriye. They pulled apart, returning to the table together.

The energy for the rest of the table read felt better, Iriye able to focus at moments, hearing the chemistry building amongst the cast. The reactions to different scenes and dialogues had her feeling like everything she had worked so hard for, was coming to fruition.

By the last scene, Iriye’s eyes were shiny with tears. They got to the last pages and a few of the actors in the cast clapped. Tamara took a moment to speak, letting everyone know that Lanoire productions were thankful for them to join the journey of this film getting made.

The table read was wrapped up and Iriye was grabbing her things from her office when she heard a knock at her door. She looked up and saw Aaron.

“Can I come in?” Iriye nodded and he entered her office, looking around. “How are you feeling?”

Iriye let out a deep breath she felt like she had been fighting. “I feel like… I can breathe a little better,”

“You and Tamara?” Aaron asked.

“We’re good. I’m pretty sure I owe her dinner, two bottles of wine and a gossip session about us,” Iriye said. She saw the smile smile on his face and she bit her lip. “Aaron…”

“You said us,” Aaron moved to grab her bag, packing it up. “Come on,”

“Aaron, I gotta go home,”

“I know. I’m taking you home. I know you didn’t drive your car since you haven’t been feeling good,” Iriye rolled her eyes as the man before her.

“So bossy,” Iriye took her bag from him.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you rolling your eyes at me,” Aaron said as he led her out.

Iriye was quiet as she let Aaron drive her home in his car, his hand on her thigh as Sade played in his car. They didn’t speak but it was enough for Iriye. It made her feel warm and that thought came through her head. She loved him.

They got to her place and Iriye let them in, Aaron taking her bag off and putting it where she kept it normally.

“Go shower. I’m going to make us some dinner and we’re going to talk like adults,” Aaron demanded. “Then if you want to step away from us, you can,”

Iriye was going to say something but she saw the look on Aaron’s face.

“Fine,” Iriye turned to her bathroom and went inside, using the time as she needed. She had to get this fine ass man out of her house. But taking her time in the shower would give her the space to breathe and take in how she would do this. She could go the anger route. Yell at him. Threaten him. Tell him she wouldn’t see him. But she didn’t want that. She wanted him.

Iriye dried off, taking the time to moisturize her skin and she deciped to slip into some sweats and a t shirt. She walked into the kitchen to see Aaron heating up some pasta sauce she had in a jar.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Aaron pointed out. He had some noodles boiling and she bit her lip.

“Maybe. I’ve just been spending a lot of time at this man’s house,” Iriye said.

“Oh a man. What’s he like?” Aaron asked, playing along.

“Well for one, he’s tall. Really built like a linebacker or something,” Iriye mentioned. “His ears kind of a tad big for his head,”

“Not too much,” Aaron chuckled.

“He’s passionate and sweet and funny. Can go toe to toe with me when we bicker,” Iriye stated. She watched as he continued cooking with what she had, moving to plate the paste with the sauce for her.

“I did the best I could,” He said, moving to get her a glass of water for Iriye. He place it by her. “Now eat,”

“Someone’s bossy,” Iriye dug into the meal. He watched her eat, Iriye knowing that he was focused on her. Once she finished, she watched Aaron move her plate out the way and pulled her chair closer to him as they sat at her counter. “What has gotten into you?” Iriye asked.

“You have, Iriye Edwards,” Aaron spoke, his hand moving to her cheek and cupping it. “So if this is what you don’t want,” His hand sliding up her thigh. “You’ll tell me to stop,” He cupped her pussy through her sweats and Iriye bit her lip.

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned. His hand slid into her sweats, finding her pussy as she didn’t put panties on.

“No panties. You made this so much easier for me, love,” Aaron slipped two fingers inside of Iriye and he quickly found that spot inside of her that made her gasp out.

Iriye was going to shut her legs but Aaron stood, moving to stand between her legs. His hand went to the nape of her neck and twisted his fingers into the hair there, making her look at him.

“You want me to stop, say it,” Aaron challenged her, blue eyes piercing her own. “Say it,”

Iriye couldn’t say anything as she moaned, his fingers working inside of her, his thumb touching her clit.

“The thing is you need me, Iriye,” Aaron said. “And I need you,” He leaned down to kiss her lips and Iriye kissed him back deeply.

Iriye cupped his cheeks as their lips moved against each others, Aaron swallowing every moan and gasp that slipped as he worked her pussy with his fingers, feeling her juices coming out more and more.

Aaron pulled back from kissing her, taking his fingers out of her pussy and sliding them to her lips, letting her taste herself amongst them. Iriye moaned, tasting her sweet juices. He pulled his fingers and kissed her, groaning.

“Come on,” Aaron lifted Iriye up, her hands moving to his neck and her legs wrapped around him. He led them to her bedroom and she gasps as he dropped her on her bed. “Strip,” Iriye sat up and with the look in his eye, she knew not to play around.

Iriye shuffled her sweats down, leaving her bottom half bare and then her shirt came off, her titties bouncing back to their space. Aaron;s eyes took in every part of her body and she felt so exposed like a raw nerve. He got himself out of his shirt, the slight hair on his chest coming into view and the same speckle just above his pants. No belt was in his jeans and she watched as he unbuttoned it, his boxer briefs coming into view to show the hard bulge below as he got out of them.

“Can I taste you,” Iriye asked and Aaron just chuckled.

“You think I’m going to let you have what you want?” Aaron stated. “After you drove me mad all week, worried about you,” Iriye thought it was posessiveness making him act like this but it was more than that. “Get the condom,” Iriye shuffled up her bed to check her sidetable draw. Just as she was about to grab the gold foil, she felt a smack to her ass and she moaned from the sting, looking back at him. “Get the condom, Iriye,”

Iriye grabbed it, shifting till she was laying against the pillow. Like a lion, Aaron crawled over her. He took the condom out of her hands and opened it, slipping it onto himself.

Aaron crawled over Iriye, his eyes meeting her and leaning down for a soft kiss. And Iriye hated that she felt like she didn’t deserve him being sweet for a moment.

“Let me in, Iriye,” Aaron whispered and it wasn’t just her opening her legs and bed to him. It was everything else. Letting him into her life and her heart.

Before she could reply, Aaron pushed into her, a groan leaving his lips as he pressed into her pussy. She gasped as the familiar feeling of her body stretching around his length.

Aaron took a moment to regain himself, his body rocking into her as Iriye’s nail went to his back to find purchase. But he took both of her hands and pressed them to the bed.

“No. You’re just going to feel me. Feel what I do to you. That’s your only focus. Do you understand,” Aaron demanded.

“Yes,” Iriye moaned as she felt him beginning to thrust his length inside of her. Soft gasps left her as Aaron was commited to being slow and steady. His length slide in and out of her, the wet sounds echoing amongst their moans and groans.

Aaron was rolling his hips too good into her. Rocking against her as her feet tried to find purchase on the bed. His chest was rubbing against her nipples, growing harder and making her pussy throb with each movement.

“God, I wish I could feel how wet you are again,” He whispered against her lips, him leaning down to kiss her. Her hands were gasping the covers as Aaron pinned her down.

“You feel so good inside of me,” Iriye moaned out, feeling him thrust a little harder into her and causing her to cry out.

“You really wanted to end this,” Aaron groaned against her neck. “Look at me,” He twisted his hips in a way that had Iriye arching her back, body still rocking slowly into her. “You want me to stop?”

Iriye gasped as he thrust again, hitting her g spot. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head for a second.

“You didn’t answer me Iriye,” He thrust harder into her. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” Iriye whined out. Aaron paused for a moment and she was about to moan her discontent.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Iriye did as she was told, her legs wrapping around his waist. He lifted her back up from the bed. “Arms around my neck,” She wrapped around his neck and that’s when she knew he was trying to ruin her for anyone else.

Aaron’s muscles weren’t just for looks as he began bouncing her on his cock, lifting her like she was nothing. She began crying out, not caring that her neighbors would most likely complain. If they were getting fucked like this while on their worst behavior, they would understand.

“You really want this to stop,” Aaron lifted her, his cock hitting her g spot just right and her being forced to take the onslaught was wrecking her. They were both trying to breath between gasps and moans. “A-Answer me,” He stuttered as Iriye’s pussy spasmed.

“No. Please! No! Don’t stop,” Iriye cried out loudly. She clutched onto him for dear life as the wet slaps fell against his hips.

“You really wanted to run from this,” Aaron was thrusting up into her harder. “But no one can fuck you like this,” He made sure to puntactate each word with a hard thrust, forcing cries from her body.

“Aaron!” Iriye whined.

“When I am done with you, you’re only going know my name. You understand, love,” Aaron thrust harder into her.

“Fuck! Yes,” Iriye cried out. He thrust up into her as he brought her body down onto his length, cries and moans leaving Iriye’s body as he moved faster. “You’re going to make cum!” Iriye whined.

“Good. Cum on your cock. I’m yours baby,” Aaron leaned in to kiss her. Her lips hungrily found his and she cried out as she felt her pussy spasming. It took a couple more thrusts before Iriye screamed out. Her juices flooding his length just made Aaron thrust harder, him groaning out as his orgasm hit her and they crumpled to the bed, entangled in each others arms. They would have to talk at some point but their bodies did most of the work and that was enough for now.

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