#but she's pushing herself to have a casual encounter

[eruden-writes]

Scent Match - Part 9 (Augustine & Amber)

lycan x human celebrity x non-celebrity

Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan heartthrob, Augustine Prime.

But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.

However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.

All because of her scent.

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Given Augustine’s consent, Amber hummed and closed her eyes to focus on her task. For a time, she focused on him. It was easier to focus on pleasuring him than to combat the simmering embarrassment at the edges of her thoughts. As her mouth worked up and down his length, her fingers toyed with his knot with light touches. The heat emanating from him, the graze of his fur against her, the way his breath caught when her tongue traversed over a particularly good spot.

Yeah, this was simpler than her own deep-brewing emotions. It also distracted her from the memories with prior partners, their mean laughter or-

Amber shoved the recollections from her head. No. She was focusing on this, focusing on Augustine. All other thoughts dissipated as her focus zeroed in on him.

Unaware of the emotional minutiae plaguing Amber’s thoughts, Augustine relished in the circumstance. The hot, soft feel of her paired with her steady pace agonized and thrilled him. He wanted more. His fingers flexed briefly, tempted to grab her by the head, but he dug his claws into the sheets. Keeping his hips from bucking into her warm mouth was harder, but he managed.

The last thing he wanted to do was risk startling her or scaring her off. He didn’t want to see her disappointed or affronted expression if he reciprocated. This was entirely about her getting comfortable with him.

Besides, Amber’s mouth and hands were plenty enough to focus on without him touching her.

But, gods, he wanted to touch her.

Augustine bit down on the desire, sinking back onto the bed to just feel Amber’s mouth work or her hands caress him. Warmth and wetness and the little, absentminded sounds she made while on his cock razed through him.

She hadn’t taken him fully into her mouth again. While her head bobbed, one of her hands stroked his neglected length as her other hand stroked his knot. As soon as her pace increased, as soon as she took a little more of him with every pass, heat tightened in his center. In small ways, Augustine tried to shift for fuller friction, more sensation, as he pressed his head back and panted, deep rumbles echoing in his chest.

It was only after a particular squeeze of her hand and a dip of her head that Augustine realized the pressure building in him was cresting. A sudden throb through his cock, drawing a grunt from him, made him all the more aware of his oncoming orgasm. “A-Amber, I’m gonna come if you don’t st– Fuck.”

Augustine jerked forward, off the bed, as she took him fully in her mouth again, both hands squeezing at his knot. He curled over Amber’s head with his hands crooked and twitching. He just barely kept from grabbing her, from pushing her further down as his hips finished her job. His chest heaved as she stared at her, lips pressed to his knot and expression one of calm.

“Mhm?” She hummed, staring up at Augustine innocently as her fingers alternated in squeezing touches.

Amber couldn’t hide the slight curl of her lips as Augustine stared down at her. He looked quite the sight. Fur mussed and golden eyes wide, ears pricked forward. The movement of his hands hadn’t been missed, either. He was close to just grabbing her, but was holding back. Part of her appreciated that.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he explained, tone tinged with desperation and concern. Augustine could feel Amber’s amusement as her smile twitched around him. He had to swallow down his nerves before he managed to press further, “Are you okay with that?”

She gave a positive hum, but when his concern didn’t soften, she gave him a nod. Well, as good of a nod as she could give with her mouth being full of him.

Still, Augustine didn’t jump on her consent. He wasn’t sure how well his restraint would hold out and, given the moment’s pause, he had to ask, “Can I thrust and touch you?”

Amber lazily bobbed her head up and down his cock, feeling how his member twitched against her tongue as she thought. On the second pass, she pulled off him, swiping the back of her palm against her mouth to wipe away any stray spittle. “Don’t choke me or force me down, alright?”

A bright expression lit up his face as he nodded excitedly. His reaction made something in Amber twist, delighted and a little uncertain. Augustine’s hand landing softly on her head dissipated any potential concerns. At his gentle guidance, Amber neared his dick again, taking him in her mouth in a languid fashion.

With one hand braced on the bed, the other holding the back of her head, Augustine half-stood from the bed. The return of her hot, moist mouth ignited heat down his spine. He thanked his stars for the foresight in asking for more control. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure how well he would have held out.

His pace began slowly, feeling Amber’s reactions out until he dared to pump his hips faster, a little harder. Augustine was still cognizant of her reactions, her body language. He adjusted his pace, the power of his thrusts, based on Amber’s sounds and the way she tensed or relaxed. Soon, he found a satisfactory pace, though with every whimper or gasp from her, he had to fight the urge to bare down harder.

Not in charge of the pace any longer, Amber closed her eyes and let her hands drift up and down his tense thighs, feeling the muscles strain beneath his fur. Despite not being in full charge, she still rocked on her knees to meet his thrusts, pushing him further down her throat that he would have otherwise gone.

He was being careful, she knew. Complicated feelings swirled inside her, though mostly carnal heat pounded at her center. She forced those complicated feelings further from thought by focusing on the situation. The way Augustine’s hips jerked, his fur dragging across her cheeks, his claws curving a little further against her scalp as his hips moved, his breaths escaping as panting half-groans.

As his pace increased, Amber rocked faster and harder against him. His pulse throbbed against her tongue, cock twitching with every thrust. Led by instinct, her hands drifted back to his knot and squeezed tight with his every thrust. By the third squeeze, his cock bounced wildly just before thick heat exploded in her mouth. Augustine snarled - the sound scraping deliciously down Amber’s spine - and jerked forward, curling over her.

His body wracked with trembles, Amber once again took over. Pulling back enough so she could milk his length, she swallowed down mouthfuls of his slight salty-sweetness while Augustine continued to groan and twitch.

Only when she was sure he was done did Amber lean back, again wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as she stared up at him. He wasn’t entirely terrible to get naughty with, she decided. Of course, a blowjob didn’t say much, but at least she enjoyed his taste, his sounds, the way he tensed and moved.

Above all else, Augustine had been attentive and accommodating.

Her stare hadn’t been lost on Augustine. As much as he relished in her attention, he couldn’t help but feel there had to be more. Maybe she expected more. He waited for her to say something, sensing the pensive nature of her thoughts, before he decided to break the silence. “Do you want me to return the favor?”

“What do you mean?” Amber cocked her head to the side, his question interrupting her own thoughts on their encounter.

“I could eat you out.” His orgasm must have burned his own caution to a crisp, Augustine realized as Amber’s eyes widened. He couldn’t tear his intent gaze from Amber as his nose twitched. Sweet lust still stained the air, tugging at his instincts. “I know you’re wet and aroused. I can smell it on you.”

Amber’s eyes dropped to his maw. A thrill sliced down her spine as Augustine licked his chops, flashing one of those wolfish smiles at her. Unable to meet his gaze with the flush burning her cheeks, she focused on a patch of Augustine’s thigh.

Just when he thought she was going to reject his offer, Amber mumbled, “Yeah, sure.”

In no time, Augustine had her tossed to the bed, back to the mattress. He’d managed to haul her up farther on the bed so he could kneel between her legs. The sensation of his warm hands, rough pads grazing her thighs, made Amber yelp and half-raise up on her elbows.

His actions froze, gold eyes darting to her. Amber’s heart skipped in her chest, feeling equal parts shameful and disconcerted. “I-I don’t want to get fully naked.”

A gentle smile crossed Augustine’s lips as he tilted his head to the side a little. “I have to take your panties off at least.”

Under his soft look, Amber clamped her mouth shut as heat burned hotly across her cheeks. He was going to find out. She was commando under her dress and sopping wet with excitement. Amber couldn’t bring herself to tell him verbally, though.

Augustine soon found the reason for her sudden silence. As his hands edged further up, nudging the hem of her dress higher and higher, there was no further fabric separating him from Amber. He stared down at her bared pussy, eyes roving as his nose twitched. Between the sight and her unhindered heady scent, his mouth watered obscenely. She must have felt his hungry eyes on her naked form, since she fell back and covered her face with her arms. Her self-conscious little whine only stoked lurid feelings within Augustine.

He wanted her to know how wonderful, how beautiful she was to him.

Amber swallowed a whimper as she sensed his mouth close in on her, feeling his breaths puff along her naked flesh. Anticipation and arousal coiled through her nerves, refusing any self-conscious inclination to pull away. The sensation of his tongue - hot and broad and wet - tentatively tracing her slit made Amber’s whole body jerk. Delight blossomed out along her nerves, replacing uncertainty with need.

Her reaction stoked excitement in Augustine as her scent, fuller and heady between her thighs, dizzied him. Or maybe it was her taste on his tongue, so sweet it pulled a moan from him. Before he had even let his mouth touch her, she was wet and glistening and so, so beautiful. He needed to hear more, feel her tense and shudder, come undone under his mouth. Moving faster, more intent, his tongue swirled around Amber's clit, feeling her curve off the bed with a keening whimper.

It was embarrassing to Amber how quickly she devolved into a trembling mess under his eager licking. She wasn't even sure when she lifted her hips to meet his hot wet maw or when her hand had migrated to the back of his head, fingers buried in his fur. Her other hand fisted into the sheets, bunching fabric under crooked digits. A creeping sense of heat crawled over Amber's body as her open-mouthed gasps tangled with her moans.

Augustine's growl and the way he bore down harder, his tongue delving into her and curving to nudge against her little erogenous spot, made a thrill twang through Amber. Even the graze of his teeth made her nerves burn with excitement. She wanted more, wanted to really feel everything Augustine had to offer, take it all.

Again her body jerked, her knees rising to squeeze against Augustine's head.

She wasn’t sure how long his eager lapping went on, how long she was a writhing and moaning mess under his tongue. Pleasure seared through her body and rebounded to simmer through her as a fresh wave crashed over her. Maddening and delirious. The carnal joy almost hurt as her body tightly clenched and tensed, twisting under preparation.

When the pressure crested and slammed through her, Amber lurched forward. “Augustine!”

Her thighs clamped tight to the sides of his face, pressing him closer to her center. Not that he needed goading. Her cry coupled with her orgasm sent a possessive pulse through him and he continued to tongue her.

Amber’s head lolled back, breathy moans escaping her even as Augustine happily licked up her taste. A few languorous moments passed as he licked her clean, before he finally pulled away.

A delightful singe crept over her body even as he pulled away. The shift of his fur against her bare thighs tickled, making her arch and sigh. Then Augustine’s words crashed through her afterglow, “Made you scream my name.”

Amber’s eyes snapped open, renewed heat staining her cheeks as her head jerked to glare at him. “You–!”

She was about ready to push him away, thinking this had all gone according to some convoluted plan of his, before Augustine’s soft chuckle stopped her. “I prefer this to what I meant earlier.”

Unable to ignore her curiosity, Amber narrowed her eyes. “What did you mean earlier?”

His face fell, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling as a dour expression creased his features. Heaving a heavy sigh, he mimicked the put-out bemoan he’d heard many a-time before, “Augustine.”

Oh, that’s what he meant. Easing from her paranoia, she combed her fingers through his fur. There was a thread of pain beneath Augustine’s reenactment, something Amber didn’t quite know how to address.

“Well, you are exasperating,” she mused, teasing as gently as her touches felt.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed as he closed his eyes, resigned to the thought. Between Amber’s touch and the cushion of her thigh, Augustine could have happily fallen asleep. Well, he could if his turgid erection wasn’t digging into the bed.

“I mean, you’ve asked me to marry you barely knowing me,” Amber went on, rolling her eyes. Part of her still needled for that more realistic outcome. Something where he’d laugh and pull away, say it was all a joke. On the other hand, part of her sympathized with the more sensible people in Augustine’s life. “I can’t imagine your manager or anyone else on your team is thrilled with that.”

Augustine’s head shifted as his eyes opened. “Speaking of that, do you think we’re compatible?”

“Stop that,” Amber hissed, fighting down the burst of adrenaline his glowing gold eyes and wolfish smile had on her heart. She also had to fight off a shameful delight as his arms slid under her thighs and his hands absentmindedly stroked her.

“I’m not doing anything,” he protested, his canine maw somehow curling into a pout as his eyes widened innocently.

Warmth clawed hotly over her cheeks as she glared down at him. “You were grinning at me.”

Her reaction only broke his pout apart into a broad grin. “So?”

“You’re embarrassing me.” Unable to get him to stop looking at her, Amber pressed her hands to her face to gain some reprieve. It only served to remind her how warm her blush burned.

"That's something you'll have to get used to,” Augustine laughed, pushing himself to his hands and knees before leaning over her. Instinct burned at his core to touch Amber more, to get closer, to get as close as he could. He knew he couldn’t exactly do what his instincts wanted, but that didn’t keep Augustine from wanting more contact. A hug, a cuddle, a touch. He’d take what he could get if Amber offered it.

He hadn’t realized just how close the move would place them or that his raging boner would brush against Amber’s still cocked leg until she jolted. Regardless of his momentary lapse in judgment, he poised his features into innocence as she stared up at him. She hadn’t jerked her leg away, so that had to be a good sign. Right?

Amber’s knee angled toward Augustine’s erection, the heat and firmness a beacon against her skin. Incredulity mingled with amusement as she laughed, “Are you hard again?”

“Yeah.” His head dipped and his ears drooped in a half-apologetic movement, before his eyes locked to hers. Even his ears rebounded, pricking forward with intent. “Want to do more?”

Amber knew he meant fucking, but a different kind of heat blossomed in the scant air between them. Her eyes flickered to his, trailed over his snout-esque features. How would it feel to kiss a lycan, she wondered? How could they match up a flat human mouth to that somewhat elongated maw?

Those curious thoughts crept through her head and, before she knew it, she was moving. One leg raised, hooking around his hip and drawing him closer.

Augustine held his breath, following Amber’s lead as he lowered himself slowly at her beckoning. Her other leg eased between his, knee propped up to rub her thigh against his hard-on. Involuntarily, his hips thrust into the friction, a deep moan vibrating through his chest.

It was her hands reaching up, softly grasping onto the sides of his head, that surprised Augustine. His eyes widened, ears pricking forward as Amber guided his face closer to hers. It was when her eyes fluttered shut, her lips puckered, his own heart stalled in his chest.

A flare of uncharacteristic self-consciousness made Augustine feel large and bumbling, even as he eagerly leaned in, his own eyes closing and lips parting for a sloppy - awkward - kiss.

Contact never game as a jarring sound blared through the air. Augustine’s eyes widened as he jerked from Amber’s grip, head swiveling to the source of the sound. It was a ringtone he had been taught to never ignore. “Shit, I need to take that."

He bounded from the bed, from Amber, before she registered the change in atmosphere. She blinked after him, watching as his tail disappeared through the bedroom door.

[clumsybriar]

Ghost x Wife! Reader — Love at First Sight

Notes: This was written after My Pretty Girl but is a prequel to it almost like how they met! I am working on more with these two so keep an eye out!

Word count: 5,189

Warnings: none just cute

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(Y/n) looked at the books stacked on a rack still needing to be put back in the location they belonged. She felt like this would take entirely too long to put away, but this was what work was left as she worked the evening shift.

She was the only worker other than one other college student who just checked people out with the books they selected.

It was often quiet with the usuals coming in, but they didn’t have many people in the evening. Everyone was either shopping or going out to eat.

(Y/n)’s stomach growled as she looked up at the tall shelves she would have to use a ladder to reach. She wished right now she could go out and eat at that restaurant down the street that had the best chicken noodle soup that she craved in this fall weather.

She quietly grabbed the ladder pushing it to the far right where she slowly started to climb up with the three books.

She kept herself steady that way she didn’t fall off break a limb or worse.

She slowly put the books away, unaware of the commotion that happened behind her. She was zoned in and had no idea people were being ushered out of the library due to a bomb.

She was just zoned in on her work.

She never heard the loud British voices barking orders to civilians and other soldiers. She never heard the loud boots on the library’s granite flooring. It was as simple as that, she was just zoned in coming back down to grab a few more books.

Her sneakers squeaked on the glossy floors as she turned around grabbing another stack of books. She hummed quietly as she talked her lips trying to remember exactly where the authors she was looking for were located.

“Miss,” a calm British voice pulled her out of her concentration. Her eyes darted to him as she stared at him wide eyed and a bit jumpy since she didn’t expect him to be there at all.

This was a perfect example of a deer in headlights about to get hit. Who was the deer and who was the car was for a later debate.

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) clutched her heart as she looked at the man with a skull mask on his face.

Who was he? Why was he here? Why did he have all this gear and a gun? Was he robbing the library?

All these thoughts just kept going on through her mind as she looked at Simon with a bit of deer and nervousness.

She was just a nervous little thing anyways, with anxiety and the need to hide and paint all day. Seeing a man with a skull balaclava was not in her bingo card for the day.

Seeing her jump, Simon's expression softened even more. A rare flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said, his voice smooth and gentle.

He approached her, his footsteps slow and measured, as if trying to not further startle her. He extended a hand to her, an invitation to stay put for a moment. "Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

“M’okay,” she nodded as she took a deep breath. “Can I help you?” She remembered her hospitality with guests to the library, especially new ones. “Is there something you’re looking for or am I missing something here.” She squeaked out looking at his uniform and gun.

Simon's lips curled into a small, almost boyish smile at her words. He found her politeness endearing, a stark contrast to the usual gruffness he encountered. "You're the helpful type, aren't you?" he said, his voice still gentle and amused.He took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm here with my team," he explained, gesturing casually behind him. "We've got a bit of a situation we're dealing with."

“Uhhh,” there it was, her brain shut off as she looked around confused. “Situation? Okay…” she trailed off as she thought for a second. She watched as another soldier, a Scottish one came around the corner pulling the man who was talking to her away for a second.

She looked around confused trying to see if anyone was still in the library.

She looked at the checkout area and found her co-worker missing from the area

“Thanks for telling me there were scary soldiers here, Laney!” (Y/n) thought.

As Soap practically dragged Simon away for a quick discussion, his gaze remained fixed on (Y/n), his eyes lingering on her for a few moments before he had no choice but to turn away. Soap started talking, but it took a moment for Simon's mind to process the words.

"What, Johnny?" he snapped back, realizing Soap was speaking to him.

Soap raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Mate, you're drooling," he teased, noticing how Simon had been staring at (Y/n). “Does the lassie have you droolin’ like a dog, LT?”

“Im not droolin’,” Simon huffed. “Ya’ find the bomb yet you git?”

“Found it alright LT, like me to disarm it as fast as I can?” Soap smirked as he looked back at (Y/n) giving her a wink.

She flushed red and looked away as Ghost gave Soap a sharp stern glare.

“She's cute.” Soap laughed, as he looked at Simon. “Can’t blame a man.”

“I can and I will, back off.” Simon snapped.

“Oh I see,” Soap hummed. “Backing off, LT.” Soap raised his hands in surrender.

“Disarm it,” Ghost snapped, his gaze stern.

Soap chuckled, understanding he had hit a nerve. "Alright, alright, I'll disarm it," Soap quipped, his tone still light-hearted. The sergeant was out of sight back to the bomb as he went to complete his task.

Simon’s soft gaze was back on you as he reached his hand out to you. “Come now, love, you gotta leave the building.”

(Y/n) blinked in surprise as Simon took her hand, his touch gentle but firm, guiding her. The nickname "love" sent a flutter through her, and she couldn't help but look deep into his brown eyes. "I...I have to stay. I'm on shift," she said quietly, her voice soft and hesitant. It was a weak protest at best as she found herself wanting to stay near him.

On top of that she was cursing herself for even saying that, but she had no idea what was going on. She had no clue or no idea that a bomb was in this building willing to blow at any second.

Simon couldn't help the warmth that spread through him as he heard her protest, the way her voice was so hesitant and soft. He tightened his grip on her hand slightly, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I understand, love," he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue with such natural ease. "But trust me, you don't want to be around when we disarm this thing. It could get a bit messy."

“Disarm?” She sputtered out looking at him confused, “a bomb?” She uttered.

Simon's expression sobered as he realized he hadn't fully explained the situation. He gave a small nod, his eyes locking onto hers in earnest. "Yes, a bomb," he confirmed, his tone a mix of seriousness and reassurance. "That's why we're evacuating the area. But don't worry, we'll take care of it. We're trained for this sort of thing."

“I could imagine.” She looked embarrassed. How come it didn’t click in her head earlier they were soldiers and were here for some threat. “I am so sorry, it’s been a long week.” She uttered. A long week of staying up until 4 am trying to paint her final for her still art project. She was struggling to feel anything for that final. Her confusion clearly came from the lack of sleep though and her problem solving skills were lacking too because of the little to no sleep she had. “I feel a little dumb for not registering the situation as to why you might be here.” She rambled embarrassed. Her hand rubbed her forehead as she smiled embarrassed, her eyes looked around darting at different things in the library.

Simon's tough exterior softened as he watched her ramble on, her embarrassment only adding to her charm. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No need to apologize," he said gently. "Sometimes the obvious can slip right by us when we're too focused on other things."

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual acknowledgment of the connection they were starting to feel.

“How come he’s soft with her and he’s been barking orders at us all day,” Gaz huffed as he watched Simon slowly guide you to the exit. “I don’t feel the love Captain.”

“Kyle, get to work.” Price laughed as he looked at the sergeant. “He’s in love, leave him be.”

“A big ol lovey-dovey of a teddy bear.” Soap interjected as he looked at the bomb studying it.

“I’m tellin’ him you said that.” Gaz smirked.

“I’ll be dead by sundown.” Soap nodded.

Simon knew one thing, he wanted to marry this woman and as fast as he could.The realization hit him hard, like a freight train crashing into his thoughts. He had always prided himself on being focused, on maintaining a certain level of detachment. But she had managed to break through his defenses, knocking down the barriers he so carefully placed around his heart.

In that moment, as he stood with her, holding her hand in his, Simon's mind was made up. He wanted her, wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life.

For weeks Simon was distressed when he wasn’t able to find her again. He wished he could have gotten her number or asked her on a date but as soon as the bomb was diffused and everything was under control they were called back out to another mission.

But Simon didn't forget about her. In the quiet moments of the night, when the mission and the chaos of life had momentarily subsided, his thoughts would drift back to her. He could still remember the way she looked at him, the way she felt in his grasp, and the soft sound of her voice as she fumbled her words.

Simon was a patient man, but the wait was getting harder each day. He yearned to see her again, to hold her close, and to tell her how much she had unexpectedly changed his life.

He had fallen so helplessly in love with her as if he was just meant for her.

Luck was on his side though he knew that much. Who knew a month later he would find her attending the same wedding.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You want me to walk you down the aisle?” (Y/n) looked at her cousin's soon-to-be-wife surprised.

“Yes,” Farah nodded her head with a sweet smile on her face. “Alex and I have talked, my brother and family are all gone, we want you to be the one to walk me down the aisle and be beside me as we get married.” She hummed. “You’ve accepted me like I’m your own sister and I trust you.”

(Y/N) felt a rush of emotion as Farah spoke. She didn't know if she was worthy of such a role, but she couldn't bring herself to reject Farah's heartfelt request.

"Oh, Farah..." (Y/n) began, her voice filled with an emotional waiver. "If you would like me to walk you down the aisle, then I will gladly.” She sniffled.

“You made her cry.” Alex chuckled.

“Shut up Alex!” (Y/n) huffed. “I’ve always been emotional, you know that.”

Alex sat beside her as he hugged her tightly. “I know, that’s what we love the most about you.” Farah didn’t hold off as she jumped into the hug as well.

When it came to walking her down the aisle (Y/n) looked at Farah and smiled. Her Abaya was so beautiful and her make up was natural.

“Oh Farah, you're so beautiful.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she looked at the beautiful bride.

“You think so.” Farah said, showing a bit of nervousness. Who wouldn’t be? This was such an important day.

“I know so.” (Y/n) smiled, reassuring the woman. “Alex will ball his eyes out and then we can call him emotional later.” (Y/n) teased gently.

“That sounds like a perfect plan.” Farah giggled softly. The two straightened up when the music started playing, leading for (y/n) to open the door as she started to walk Farah down the aisle.

Guests were seated all over the place as they stopped and looked at the two women. They were gaping at the beautiful bride as they should be. Farah was gorgeous. But one person couldn’t keep his eyes off of (Y/n). A month of being tormented by her in his dreams Simon was finally able to lay his eyes on her once again.

Simon's heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on (y/n), walking down the aisle beside Farah. It was a sight to behold. His breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as he tried to process the wave of emotions crashing over him.

He had been waiting so long to see her again, and here she was, looking even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, his heart pounding against his ribcage. It was a whirlwind of emotions and he couldn’t contain himself as his eyes were set straight on (y/n).

He couldn’t believe his luck, from thinking he would never see (Y/n) again to seeing her a month later at Alex and Farah’s wedding.

Simon had barely been able to contain his excitement as he watched (Y/n) walk down the aisle with Farah. It felt like fate had stepped in and given him a second chance. As he sat in the ceremony, the significance of the moment settled in his mind.

He watched (Y/n), his gaze flickering over her again and again, as if trying to make sure it was really (Y/n) and not just a figment of his imagination. Throughout the ceremony, his eyes remained fixed on her, filled with a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and an undeniable connection.

He knew she wouldn’t recognize him as he was adorned in a mask the first time he met her. He wasn’t sure how to make her recognize him, but he knew he had to do something.

As the wedding progressed and the ceremony began Maria stopped Simon as she fixed his suit and tie.

“Now, lad, put yer’self together, she’s a cutie.” Maria gave him a prep talk like the mother she was. “Don’t be like John and put a little effort into it.”

“I put a lot of effort into it.” John corrected as he looked at his wife. He was a tad bit offended it seemed, but still it was very clearly obvious he loved his wife even with the comments she made about his lack of apparent effort.

“Mr. Price,” Maria looked back at him.

“My wife is correct,” John cleared his throat, backing off.

“She’s been painting for a while.” Soap hummed as he looked at (y/n).

“She’s painting a scene from the wedding.” Maria smiled. “I scoped the area for Simon already,” Maria nodded, “gotta see the lad get married and this little lassie is the one.”

Simon snorted as Maria was already exploring the area. Of course she was, she was a bit nosey too like the others, Gaz and Soap had been trying to get a better peek at her.

“Tell her she’s pretty, and ask her if she’ll dance with you.” Maria patted Simon’s chest as she had him all out together.

He glanced over at (y/n) seeing her giggle with Alex and Farah as the two hovered around her watching her paint.

“Alex.” She gasped as she looked at him. “Don’t touch the paint.” She snorted. “It’s oil, it won’t dry for months sometimes,” she shooed him away. Ghost smiled as he watched the woman stand up to the tall American.

Simon glanced at Maria, his expression torn between gratitude and trepidation. He appreciated her support, but the thought of approaching (y/n) was nerve-wracking. He wasn't used to expressing his feelings, especially in such a vulnerable way.

"You make it sound like it's an easy task," Simon retorted, his voice dripping with his usual stoicism, but there was a hint of uncertainty beneath it.

“It is an easy task, dear.” Maria dusted his shoulders off as she smiled at him nodding. “Just approach and ask for a dance.” She brushed off his worries.

Simon took a deep breath, steeling himself with Maria’s words of encouragement. He knew he was overthinking things, but when it came to you, he found himself second-guessing every move he made.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, straightening his suit. "Just ask her for a dance. How hard can it be, right?"

“Right!” Maria gave him a thumbs up. “Look at that John, our oldest is spreading his wings.”

“We adopted them, didn't we?” John looked at his wife deadpanning. He had three kids of his own, he didn’t need three more, grown adult kids.

“We did,” Maria said so proudly.

“Of course we did.” John hummed. “Course we did.”

He found it impeccably hard. He was fearful to approach, afraid he would muck up something. Each step he took towards (y/n) felt laborious, his body tensed with nerves. With every stride, he mentally practiced what to say, how to say it, and how to navigate the situation. He was acutely aware of the fact that he rarely put himself in such vulnerable positions, and it made his blood thrum with a mix of excitement and fear.

As he approached (y/n), he tried to maintain his usual stoic facade, but there was no hiding the way his heart was drumming against his chest.

But then he walked right past her and grabbed a whisky from the bartender as he looked more afraid than anything else. He was sure he was terrifying to look at with his scars from war and his stoic look that adorned his face.

“Oh how smooth,” he uttered as he grabbed the whisky and downed it in one swig.

She was so pretty and he wanted to make sure it was perfect. It had to be! It had to be perfect!

He scolded himself silently for being so afraid. He had faced battles, enemies, and death, yet here he was, intimidated by the chance to talk to a gorgeous woman.

He turned to the bartender and requested another drink, his gaze flickering over to where (y/n) was sitting, painting a beautiful picture. He downed the second drink even faster than the first one, trying to summon the courage he usually had in abundance.

“Having a tough time with something, Lieutenant.” Farah surprised him as she peered up at the tall man.

Simon almost jumped at the unexpected sound of Farah's voice behind him, his already heightened senses amplified by his current state. He quickly turned, his expression schooled into the usual stoicism, but Farah could see the hint of vulnerability beneath it.

"No need to sneak up on me like that," he replied, a bit gruff, but his words lacked their usual edge.

“My bad, my bad,” she smiled softly. “What’s got a lone wolf like you so flustered?” She smirked as she looked around the wedding venue.

Simon let out a frustrated sigh, knowing Farah could see right through him. He fidgeted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the venue as if hoping for a distraction, but there was none.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, his voice barely above a mutter. But he knew that Farah was persistent and would pry it out of him eventually. He took another sip of his drink, stalling for time.

He had no time when Maria took it into her own hands marching up to (Y/n) with a sweet smile on her face. Simon felt his blood run cold. Farah watched as Alex was pulled from his conversation with his cousin as Maria made her presence known.

“Oh dear god,” Simon groaned. “Put a bullet in my head now Farah.”

Simon's anxiety skyrocketed when he saw Maria approach (y/n), his mind racing with the possible outcomes. He took another swig of his drink, as if it could somehow quell the nerves, but it did little to ease his worries.

"I should never have let her talk me into this," he grumbled, his eyes locked on Maria and the woman as she initiated the conversation. "This is a disaster waiting to happen."

“You have a thing for Alex’s cousin?” Farah hummed. “How do you know her?”

Simon glanced at Farah, his expression betraying a mixture of surprise and resignation. He'd been caught in the act by Farah, and there was no use hiding it now.

"We met before," he muttered, his voice low. "During a situation..." He didn't elaborate, but the memory of that day was still fresh in his mind, the sight of (y/n) etched in his mind like a permanent image.

“Tell me how you met my antisocial cousin-in-law.” Farah giggled. “Alex is always trying to get her away from her college classes and getting her out to meet people.”

Simon chuckled softly at Farah's description of (Y/n) as "antisocial," and it struck a chord in him because he found her shyness endearing. He took a deep breath before recounting the story of meeting her.

"It was during a...bomb threat," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "We were called in to evacuate a library and disarm a bomb. She was there, working her shift, and...well, I couldn't take my eyes off her since then."

The memory of meeting (Y/n) was still fresh in his mind, and it played in his head like a film reel. Every glance, every touch, every word she said remained vivid in his memory. He could recall the way she looked, the way she smiled, the way she fidgeted—everything about (Y/n) that had managed to captivate him.

Then (y/n)’s eyes met his as Maria pointed him out. He couldn’t help but bristle at the fear of her hating the way he looked. As it was the last time she had seen him, he was in his mask and clearly doing work.

His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. He was only failing as the heat rose to his cheeks and his stoic mask faltered. His eyes met (y/n)’s and the connection felt instant.

When her eyes met his, Simon felt a jolt of electricity run through him. The sound of the guests and the buzz of the venue faded into the background, and all he could focus on was the sight of her. "My pretty girl," he murmured to himself. He couldn’t look away. His eyes were locked into hers and she was locked onto him.

For months she had been plagued by the man who helped her at the library, and this man had the same shape as him. As it was she had recognized the sergeant that had talked to him while she was stuck in her daze of confusion. Johnny, was that his name? That’s what she thought it was. She had recognized his blue eyes and Mohawk, but the man with the skull balaclava had been a mystery to her. She often dreamt of his voice. Hearing it constantly in her dreams.

“Mr. Riley, get your arse over here.” Maria called to him as Farah giggled and pushed Simon forward.

Simon let out a resigned sigh as he heard Maria call out to him, knowing that he couldn’t back out of it now. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath as Farah gave him a small nudge forward.

"You're enjoying this a little too much," he grumbled, shooting Farah a sidelong glance, before making his way over to (y/n) and Maria.

Alex stood to the side smirking knowing exactly what Simon was going through.

“He’s as daft as any man, trust me my dear, but he has had his head in the clouds since you walked Mrs. Keller down the aisle.”

(Y/n) was too distracted as Simon looked away bashfully. She felt her heart beat out of her chest. “Mrs. Keller?” She questioned quietly as Alex chuckled.

“We’ve lost her, give her a second to catch up.” Alex hummed knowing how introverted and anxious she was. Her anxiety zoned her out and made her mind a muddled mess. She was currently just that, a muddled mess. Who could blame her, she had Simon standing before her and he was a very attractive man, and most likely the man who saved her that day. His sweet and kind attitude towards her made her heart swell and she couldn’t take him off her mind.

Simon chuckled softly at Alex's remark, his eyes flickering over to (Y/n), taking in her confusion. It was endearing how she was so lost in her thoughts, and he couldn't help but find it adorable.

He stood there, quietly waiting for her to process the situation, his eyes never leaving hers. The sight of her looking so overwhelmed yet so captivating made his heart skip a beat.

“Farah, Mrs. Keller.” (Y/n) came out of her daze . “What was the question?” She gulped.

“Hasn’t been a question yet.” Alex patted her back, “you're too cute.”

“Here’s a question.” Maria smiled as she tugged Simon forward. “Would you dance with him? He’s sweet, and he’s kind, and he’s handsome.”

Alex and Farah clutched to one and another as they waited for your response.

Simon felt his ears grow warm at Maria’s blunt compliment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly at her words. He looked at (y/n), his expression a mix of anticipation and hope, waiting for her response.

He couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to dance with her, to hold her close, and to make sure she knew he had been thinking about her since the library.

“Yes.” It was quick but quiet answer (y/n) gave.

Maria kept rambling on. “He saved you at the library, at least that’s what Little Johnny has been saying.” she hummed slightly. “said he couldn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, Simon isn’t like that, he strives to be concentrated at work, but you my dear distracted him. I’m afraid so…” she paused as she looked at (y/n). “Wait, yes…yes! oh yes!” Maria was ecstatic.

Simon's heart pounded against his chest as he listened to Maria's words. He could feel himself blushing profusely, a rare moment of vulnerability in front of others. He averted his gaze from (y/n), suddenly bashful.

He had been trying to hide his fascination since the library incident, but it seemed like he hadn't done a great job, as Maria was making it abundantly clear.

“Well then,” (y/n) said softly, almost embarrassed. Simon couldn’t make out if she was embarrassed by his fascination or something she had said or was going to say. Needless to say it was the ladder. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one with the fascination.”

Simon's head turned back sharply at her words, his heart skipping a beat as he processed what she had just said. The room seemed to fall silent for a moment as he let her words sink in, his eyes locked onto hers.

He felt a mix of relief and surprise that she had confessed to also having a fascination with him. It was a revelation he hadn't been prepared for, but it was one that filled him with a sense of hopeful anticipation.

“Well then, we will leave you two…be,” Maria smiled.

“Oh! A secret piece of information,” Alex leaned forward looking at the two. “Just in the garden, there’s a beautiful place to be.” He winked at the two.

“What does that mean?” Simon asked, looking down at (y/n). His eyes softened at her.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) uttered. “I don’t speak his language sometimes.”

“Get away, get away,” Farah laughed as she pushed him away. “I think he meant there is a good secluded place to dance.” She giggled as she took her now husband away from the two.

“Oh,” Simon and (y/n) said in unison. The two looked at each other surprised and then giggled.

“Shall we go dancing then.” Simon hummed. “My love.”

“Yes,” Simon's heart leapt at her soft agreement. He gently took her hand, his rough palm against her soft skin. He led her towards the garden, the crowd around them fading into the background. The music was just loud enough to hear but not enough to take away from the two of their conversations,

As he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He had dreamed of this moment for a month now, and to finally have her in his arms was almost unreal.

The romance between the two was just unreal.

Simon and (y/n) moved together effortlessly, every step and movement in perfect synchronization. The world around them seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them. He held her close as he led the dance, his grip on her waist firm yet gentle.

As the music played, Simon couldn't take his eyes off her. He marveled at the way her eyes sparkled in the soft light, the way her hair framed her face, and the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. It was as if the universe had aligned to bring the both together like this.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, dead pretty my love.” He cooed softly as he dipped her down.

“You're too sweet.” She smiled as she got all bashful on him. “You're handsome as well, have been handsome since I first laid eyes on you.” She hummed remembering the library, now knowing this was the very man that had been so gentle and kind to her. He was the man who made her ooze for affection in her dreams from him and wake up to the harsh reality some mornings that she may never know him again. But somehow in some way, someone was letting their love story be weaved together intertwining their red strings together. The two knew from the start, this wasn’t just typical love, it felt like they had known each other forever, this was a love that lasts and a love that only grew from here on out.

“Glad it’s the same for you as it for me, my pretty girl.”

_________________________________________________

I hope you enjoy! 💕

Tagged:

@shecamedowninabubble

[a-lexia11]

Beyond the gap

Jenni hermoso x reader

Word count: 6k

Warning:angst,age gap

Summary: After moving to Mexico to play for Tigres Femenil, Y/N encounters Jenni, a 5'9" tattooed Spanish woman who is 11 years older than her.

Based on this request but for Jenni.

When I first arrived in Monterrey, everything felt different—new city, new culture, new team, new language.

I don’t mean to brag, but my Spanish is flawless. I’ve been practicing it daily ever since I found out about my upcoming transfer to Mexico.

Tigres UANL Feminil was a powerhouse in women’s football in Mexico, and being transferred here at 23 felt like a dream come true.

But as much as I tried to focus on the game, there was something—or rather, someone—that kept drawing my attention.

Jenni Hermoso.

She was hard to miss. At 5’9”, with tattoos covering her arms and a confidence that could turn heads, Jenni commanded attention wherever she went.

Her presence on the field was undeniable, but off the pitch, it was her cocky yet assured demeanor that left me in awe. Jenni was older—34—and had an aura of experience and self-assurance that I found incredibly attractive.

But it wasn’t just her physical presence; it was the way she carried herself, the way her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint, and how she effortlessly dominated every room she walked into.

Yet, there was also a wall around her, one that I quickly realized was going to be difficult to break through.

From the moment we met, there was a spark between us, a connection that felt impossible to ignore. But Jenni was careful, almost too careful.

She kept her distance, her teasing and playful remarks always followed by a subtle retreat, as if she was afraid of letting herself get too close.

I could see it—the way her eyes would linger on me just a second too long, the way she’d smile, then quickly look away as if catching herself in the act.

I wanted to understand why she was holding back. Maybe it was because of the 11-year age gap. I knew that she was aware of the potential backlash we’d face if we pursued anything beyond friendship—both from the team and the outside world.

Football was a tough world, and relationships like that, if they ever became public, would undoubtedly raise eyebrows.

Despite that, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. How could I not be? Jenni was sweet, nice, and helpful, but there was an underlying fire in her that captivated me.

The more I got to know her, the more I found myself wanting to be close to her, to be the one who broke through her defenses.

——

It wasn’t long before I couldn’t take it anymore. We were sitting in the locker room after a training session, the air thick with exhaustion and the smell of sweat.

Jenni was across the room, casually chatting with a few of the girls, her laughter ringing out like music. I could barely concentrate on the conversation around me; my eyes kept drifting over to her.

Her smile, the way she playfully nudged one of the girls, the way she ran a hand through her dark hair—it all sent my heart racing.

She caught my eye and smirked, a teasing glint in her gaze that made my stomach flip. That was it. I had to make a move. It felt like the universe was giving me a push, telling me it was now or never.

“Jenni,” I called out as I walked over to her, my heart pounding in my chest. Without thinking, I took her large hand and led her to a more private space in the corner of the locker room.

Her hand was warm in mine, and the moment our skin touched, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. She looked surprised, but she didn’t pull away.

“¿Qué pasa, Y/N?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and something else—something softer, more hesitant.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “¿Quieres cenar conmigo esta noche?” (Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?)

Her smile faltered for just a moment, and I saw a flicker of something—hesitation, maybe even fear—in her eyes.

But then she regained her composure, that cocky grin back in place. “¿Cena? ¿Solo nosotros dos?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, her voice playful but cautious. (Dinner? Just the two of us?)

“Sí, como amigas,” I added quickly, not wanting to scare her off. “Nada serio, solo una comida.” (Yes, as friends. Nothing serious, just a meal.)

She studied me for a long moment, and I could see the gears turning in her head. Finally, she nodded, her gaze softening. “Está bien. Como amigas.” (Alright. As friends.)

But even as she agreed, I could tell that Jenni was wary. There was something holding her back, a reluctance I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Was it the age difference? The fear of what others might think? Or was it something deeper, something more personal?

——

Dinner that night was better than I could have imagined. We went to a small restaurant in the heart of Monterrey, the kind of place that was dimly lit and intimate.

The warm glow of the candles cast a soft light on Jenni’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of her jaw and the intricate tattoos that adorned her arms. She was stunning, and I found it hard to tear my eyes away from her.

Jenni was in her element, charming the waitstaff and making me laugh with stories from her career.

She had this way of drawing people in, making them feel like they were the only person in the room. And tonight, I was the lucky one in her spotlight.

We were just two people enjoying each other’s company, and I could see that Jenni was relaxing, letting her guard down. She laughed easily, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that adorable way that made my heart skip a beat.

But then, as the evening wound down and we walked back to her car, that hesitation returned. I could feel the shift in her demeanor, a pulling back that I hadn’t noticed before.

She became quieter, more reserved, as if something was weighing heavily on her mind.

“Jenni,” I said softly, stopping her before she could unlock the car door. I reached out, gently placing a hand on her arm.

The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine. “¿Qué pasa? Pareces distante.” (What’s going on? You seem distant.)

She sighed, her eyes scanning the empty street before finally settling on me. “Y/N, eres increíble,” she began, her voice sincere but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place. “Pero… no sé si esto es una buena idea.” (Y/N, you’re amazing, but… I don’t know if this is a good idea.)

I frowned, confused. “¿Por qué no?” (Why not?)

She hesitated, biting her lip before answering. “La diferencia de edad, el equipo, todo… No quiero que te lastimes.” (The age difference, the team, everything… I don’t want you to get hurt.)

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. We were so close now that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body, the scent of her perfume mixing with the cool night air. “¿Y si soy más fuerte de lo que piensas?” I challenged, my voice firm. (What if I’m stronger than you think?)

Jenni looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the internal struggle playing out in her mind. Her eyes searched mine, as if trying to gauge my sincerity, my determination.

She pulled me closer, one arm sliding around my waist, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against my skin.

Her other hand found my cheek, and I leaned into her touch, feeling the heat between us intensify with every second.

Finally, she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Eres fuerte, Y/N. Lo sé. Pero a veces… la vida es complicada.” (You are strong, Y/N. I know that. But sometimes… life is complicated.)

I reached out, gently touching her arm again. This time, I let my fingers trace the outline of one of her tattoos, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. “Lo sé. Pero vale la pena intentarlo, ¿no crees?” (I know. But it’s worth trying, don’t you think?)

She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the walls slowly starting to crumble. “Tal vez,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. (Maybe.)

——

After that night, things between us began to change, but it was a slow process. Jenni was still hesitant, always careful not to get too close, even as the chemistry between us became undeniable.

She was strong and confident in so many ways, but when it came to us, she was always holding back.

It frustrated me. I wanted more—more of her, more of whatever this was. I wanted to be the one she turned to, the one she let her guard down around.

But I knew I had to be patient. Jenni wasn’t someone who would rush into anything, and if I pushed too hard, I risked losing her altogether.

We continued to see each other, going on dates that were always framed as “just friends” even though we both knew they were anything but.

Each time, Jenni seemed to relax a little more, but there was always that undercurrent of fear, that hesitation that held her back.

One evening, after a particularly good game, we found ourselves alone in the locker room. The team had gone out to celebrate, but Jenni and I had stayed behind, both too exhausted to do anything but sit in silence.

The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant sounds of celebration echoing from outside.

As I sat beside her, I could feel the tension between us, the unspoken words hanging in the air. Finally, I broke the silence.

“Jenni, ¿por qué sigues dudando?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and gently placed my hand over hers. (Jenni, why do you keep hesitating?)

Her skin was cool to the touch, and the simple connection sent a rush of warmth through me. “¿Es por la edad? ¿O por lo que los demás puedan pensar?” (Is it because of the age difference? Or because of what others might think?)

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stared down at our hands, her thumb tracing small, absent-minded circles on the back of my hand.

Her expression was conflicted, a mixture of longing and fear. I could see the war waging inside her, the push and pull of desire and caution.

“Es complicado,” she finally whispered, her voice thick with emotion. (It’s complicated.)

I squeezed her hand gently, encouraging her to continue. “¿Qué es lo que te preocupa tanto?” I asked, my heart aching for her. (What are you so worried about?)

She sighed, leaning back against the cold metal of the locker behind her. For a moment, she closed her eyes, as if trying to gather her thoughts.

When she opened them again, they were filled with uncertainty. “Y/N, tú eres joven, y tienes toda una carrera por delante. No quiero ser la razón por la que las cosas se compliquen para ti. La prensa, los fanáticos, incluso el equipo… todos tendrán algo que decir si se enteran de esto.” (Y/N, you’re young, and you have your whole career ahead of you. I don’t want to be the reason things get complicated for you. The media, the fans, even the team… everyone will have something to say if they find out about this.)

I could see the pain in her eyes, the fear of what others might think, how they might judge us. It was a valid concern.

The football world wasn’t always kind to relationships that didn’t fit the mold, and with an age gap like ours, we’d be under even more scrutiny. But I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was her.

“Jenni,” I said firmly, shifting closer so that our knees touched. I tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look at me, to see the sincerity in my eyes. “Lo único que me importa eres tú. No me importa lo que la gente diga o piense. Si tú también lo sientes… si tú quieres esto, entonces eso es todo lo que importa.” (Jenni, the only thing that matters to me is you. I don’t care what people say or think. If you feel the same… if you want this, then that’s all that matters.)

She stared at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable. I could see the wheels turning in her head, the way she was processing my words, weighing the risks against her desires.

Then, slowly, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against mine. Her breath was warm against my skin, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, in that quiet, dimly lit locker room, caught in the tension between hesitation and passion.

“I do want this,” she admitted in english, her voice trembling with emotion. “Pero tengo miedo. Miedo de lo que vendrá después, miedo de que nos hagan daño a los dos. Y también… tengo miedo de que esto no dure. Que en algún momento te des cuenta de que mereces algo mejor, alguien que no esté… atrapado en sus propios miedos.” (But I’m afraid. Afraid of what will come after, afraid that we’ll both get hurt. And also… I’m afraid that this won’t last. That at some point, you’ll realize you deserve something better, someone who isn’t… trapped in their own fears.)

Her words broke my heart. I could hear the doubt in her voice, the fear of being left behind, of not being enough. But to me, Jenni was more than enough.And I wanted her to know that.

“Jenni, mírame,” I said softly, cupping her face in my hands. Her eyes fluttered open, and I could see the unshed tears glistening in her lashes. “No voy a ir a ninguna parte. Estoy aquí, contigo, porque te quiero. Y eso no va a cambiar.” (Jenni, look at me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, with you, because I want you. And that’s not going to change.)

She paused, blinking as she processed what I had just said. Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in and softly pressed her lips to mine.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft brush of lips that sent a wave of warmth through my entire body.

But as the seconds ticked by, it deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. It was as if all the pent-up emotions we had been holding back were finally spilling over, and neither of us could stop it.

Jenni’s hands found their way to my waist, and pulled me into her lap,her hands dangerously close to my butt.

I could feel the rapid beat of her heart against my chest, the way her fingers dug into my sides as if she was afraid to let go. I responded in kind, my hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, needing to feel her, to know that she was real.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads pressed together as we tried to catch our breath.

Jenni’s eyes were bright, her lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. She looked at me with a mixture of awe and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

“Y/N,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. “¿Estás segura de esto?” (Are you sure about this?)

I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Nunca he estado más segura de nada en mi vida,” I replied, my voice steady. (I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.)

She let out a shaky laugh, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Creo que me estás volviendo loca,” she murmured, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice. (I think you’re driving me crazy.)

“Eso es lo que hago mejor,” I teased, pressing another kiss to her lips, this one softer, more tender. (That’s what I do best.)

For a moment, we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, letting the world outside fade away.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just us, and the connection that had finally broken through the walls Jenni had so carefully built around herself.

——

Over the next few weeks, things between us intensified. The stolen glances during training sessions, the secret touches when no one was looking, the late-night texts that turned into whispered phone calls… it was like we were living in our own little bubble, and I reveled in every moment of it.

But as much as I loved the thrill of our secret romance, I knew that Jenni was still struggling.

She was careful—too careful. Whenever we were around the team, she would put up her walls again, acting as if nothing had changed between us. It was frustrating, but I understood. The age gap, the scrutiny… it weighed heavily on her.

One night, after a particularly grueling match, we found ourselves in my apartment. The team had won, and everyone was in high spirits, but Jenni had been quiet the entire evening.

I could tell something was bothering her, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.

As we sat on the couch, the city lights of Monterrey twinkling outside the window, I turned to her. “Jenni, ¿qué pasa? Has estado distante toda la noche.” (Jenni, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all night.)

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Es solo… todo esto. Nosotros. A veces me siento abrumada, y no sé si estoy haciendo lo correcto.” (It’s just… all of this. Us. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed, and I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.)

I frowned, my heart sinking. “¿Qué quieres decir?” (What do you mean?)

She looked at me, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “Quiero estar contigo, Y/N, de verdad. Pero tengo miedo de lo que pueda pasar si esto se vuelve público. La prensa, el equipo, mi familia… ¿y si no lo entienden? ¿Y si esto nos hace daño a los dos?” (I want to be with you, Y/N, I really do. But I’m afraid of what might happen if this becomes public. The media, the team, my family… what if they don’t understand? What if this hurts both of us?)

I could see the fear in her eyes, the way she was bracing herself for the worst. But I wasn’t going to let her face this alone.

“Jenni,” I said softly, reaching out to take her hand. I squeezed it gently, trying to reassure her. “Entiendo tus preocupaciones, y sé que no va a ser fácil. Pero no estoy dispuesta a perderte por miedo a lo que los demás piensen. Si esto es real para ti, como lo es para mí, entonces vale la pena luchar por ello.” (Jenni, I understand your concerns, and I know it won’t be easy. But I’m not willing to lose you because of fear of what others think. If this is real for you, like it is for me, then it’s worth fighting for.)

She stared at me for moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and longing. I could see the internal battle she was fighting, torn between the desire to protect herself—and me—from the potential fallout, and the undeniable connection we shared.

It was as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to take the leap or retreat to safety.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jenni let out a shaky breath and nodded, her fingers tightening around mine. “Tienes razón,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Vale la pena luchar por esto. No quiero vivir con miedo, y no quiero perder lo que tenemos.” (You’re right. This is worth fighting for. I don’t want to live in fear, and I don’t want to lose what we have.)

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming, and before I knew it, I was pulling her into my arms, holding her tightly as if I was afraid she might slip away.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck,and she kissed the crown of my head as she clung to me just as desperately.

In that moment, it felt like we had crossed a threshold—no more hiding, no more holding back. We were in this together, for better or for worse.

As we held each other, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks slowly began to dissipate.

Jenni’s body relaxed against mine, and I could feel her heartbeat gradually steadying, syncing with my own. I whispered, “Vamos a estar bien, Jenni. Lo haremos juntos, y todo estará bien.” (We’re going to be okay, Jenni. We’ll do this together, and everything will be okay.)

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at me, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

I could see the vulnerability in her gaze, the lingering doubts that still lingered, but there was also a new resolve, a determination that hadn’t been there before.

“¿Prometes?” she asked, her voice small and tentative. (Do you promise?)

I cupped her face in my hands, brushing my thumbs gently across her cheeks as I looked deep into her eyes. “Lo prometo,” I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt. (I promise.)

Jenni’s lips curved into a small, tentative smile, and for the first time in what felt like ages, I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken promises and unexpressed emotions that had been building between us for so long, a kiss that spoke of new beginnings and the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As our lips moved together, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just us, wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the warmth and comfort of our connection.

My hands slipped from her face to around her shoulders , pulling her closer until there was no space left between us.

Jenni responded in kind, her arms around my waist, squeezing lightly as she deepened the kiss, her movements more confident, more certain.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting together as we caught our breath.

Jenni’s eyes were shining, her lips slightly swollen from the intensity of our kiss. She looked at me with a mixture of love and determination, as if she had finally made peace with the decision we had both made.

“Te quiero, Y/N,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Y voy a luchar por esto, por nosotros.” (I want you, Y/N. And I’m going to fight for this, for us.)

Hearing those words from her made my heart swell with happiness, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. “Yo también te quiero, Jenni,” I replied softly, my voice filled with all the love I felt for her. “Y voy a estar a tu lado, pase lo que pase.” (I want you too, Jenni. And I’m going to be by your side, no matter what.)

——

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. With the decision to embrace our relationship came the inevitable challenges.

We knew that going public would bring scrutiny from all angles—our teammates, the media, and even our families. But now, for the first time, we were ready to face it together.

Jenni was still cautious, but she was no longer holding back. We started small, taking baby steps towards revealing our relationship to the world.

First, it was just small gestures—holding hands when we were out alone, stolen kisses in quiet corners of the training facility, and whispered words of love when no one was around.

It was a delicate dance, balancing our desire to be open with the need for privacy, but we were determined to find that balance.

One evening, we had finished certain activities and were lying naked in bed, I was on top of her. Her hands gently traveled up and down my back, occasionally drifting to give my butt a light squeeze that made me giggle. Each time, she would tenderly kiss my forehead.

Her skin was warm and soft under my touch, and I reveled in the intimacy of the moment. It was one of those rare moments when everything felt perfect, when the world outside our little bubble didn’t matter.

Jenni gazed at me with a gentle smile, her eyes brimming with affection as one of her hands tenderly brushed through my hair.“¿Qué estás pensando?” she asked quietly, her voice hushed in the dim light of the room. (What are you thinking?)

I smiled, my fingers continuing their lazy exploration of her skin. “Estoy pensando en lo afortunada que soy de tenerte aquí, conmigo,” I replied honestly, my heart swelling with love for her. (I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have you here, with me.)

Jenni’s smile widened, and she leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Yo soy la afortunada,” she murmured against my mouth, her voice filled with sincerity. (I’m the lucky one.)

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, our kisses slow and languid, savoring the closeness we had found.

There was a tenderness in the way Jenni held me, her hands tracing gentle patterns on my back as if she couldn’t get enough of the contact.

I could feel the love radiating from her, the way she cherished every moment we spent together.

But even in those quiet moments, the reality of our situation was never far from our minds.

The age gap, the potential backlash from the media, and the reactions of our teammates and families loomed over us like a shadow. We knew that coming out publicly would be a risk, one that could change everything.

——

As we lay in bed after a particularly long day, Jenni voiced the concerns that had been weighing on her mind. “¿Crees que el equipo lo aceptará?” she asked quietly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on my arm. (Do you think the team will accept it?)

I turned to face her, my eyes searching hers in the dim light. “No lo sé,” I admitted honestly. “Pero no creo que debamos escondernos. Si somos felices, eso es lo que debería importar, ¿no?” (I don’t know. But I don’t think we should hide. If we’re happy, that’s what should matter, right?)

Jenni nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Tienes razón,” she said softly, her voice tinged with determination. “No quiero seguir escondiéndome. Si vamos a hacer esto, lo haremos juntos, sin miedo.” (You’re right. I don’t want to keep hiding. If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it together, without fear.)

Her words filled me with a renewed sense of hope, and I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned in to kiss her. “Juntas,” I whispered against her lips, my heart swelling with love for her. (Together.)

——

When we finally decided to tell our teammates, it was nerve-wracking. Jenni and I had been preparing for this moment for weeks, discussing how we would approach the conversation and anticipating their reactions.

We knew that some would be supportive, while others might be more hesitant, but we were ready to face it head-on.

One afternoon, after training, we gathered the team together in the locker room. The atmosphere was light, filled with the usual banter and laughter that came after a hard day’s work, but I could sense the tension in Jenni as she stood beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly.

“Chicas,” Jenni began, her voice steady but filled with emotion. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at us, curiosity and concern etched on their faces. “Hay algo que Y/N y yo queremos compartir con ustedes.” (Girls, there’s something Y/N and I want to share with you.)

I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on us, but I squeezed Jenni’s hand, offering her silent support. She took a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over our teammates before she continued.

“Y/N y yo… estamos juntas,” she said, her voice firm. (Y/N and I… we’re together.)

There was a brief pause, a moment of silence as everyone processed her words. Then, slowly, the reactions began to trickle in.

Some of the girls smiled, offering words of congratulations and support, while others looked more uncertain, their expressions unreadable.

But overall, the response was positive, and I could see the relief on Jenni’s face as the tension began to dissipate.

One of our teammates, who had always been close to both of us, stepped forward with a grin. “Bueno, ya era tiempo,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. “Pensé que iban a mantenerlo en secreto para siempre.” (Well, it was about time. I thought you were going to keep it a secret forever.)

Laughter rippled through the room, and I felt Jenni relax beside me, her grip on my hand loosening as the tension melted away. She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No era nuestra intención, pero necesitábamos estar seguras de que estábamos listas,” she admitted, her voice lighter now. (It wasn’t our intention, but we needed to be sure we were ready.)

Another teammate stepped forward, her expression a mix of warmth and understanding. “Lo importante es que se tienen el uno al otro,” she said gently, her words resonating with sincerity. “Si son felices juntas, entonces eso es lo que importa. Y estamos aquí para apoyarlas.” (The important thing is that you have each other. If you’re happy together, then that’s what matters. And we’re here to support you.)

Jenni’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she nodded, her voice thick with emotion when she replied. “Gracias, chicas. Eso significa mucho para nosotras.” (Thank you, girls. That means a lot to us.)

I couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude for our teammates. Despite the uncertainty and fear we had faced leading up to this moment, they had embraced us with open arms. It wasn’t just about acceptance—it was about being surrounded by people who genuinely cared for us, who wanted to see us happy.

As the conversation shifted back to more casual topics, I leaned in closer to Jenni, my hand still wrapped around hers.

She looked at me with a soft smile, the weight that had been pressing on her shoulders for so long finally lifting. I could see the relief in her eyes, the joy of finally being able to live openly and freely, without fear or hesitation.

“¿Te sientes mejor?” I asked softly, my thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. (Do you feel better?)

Jenni nodded, her smile widening as she leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead. “Mucho mejor,Hermosa” she murmured, her voice filled with affection. (Much better, beautiful)

——

The next hurdle we faced was dealing with the media, and we both knew it would be an entirely different challenge—a beast of its own. We were prepared, but not fully ready for what was to come.

It started with the fans. They began noticing subtle things, like the way we exchanged gentle touches or the lingering hugs on the field.

They picked up on how we always seemed to be together, spending every moment in each other’s company, and didn’t hesitate to share it on social media. Our connection was obvious to anyone paying attention.

We weren’t trying to hide anything. We were simply living our lives authentically, sharing pieces of it as any couple would.

But as our relationship became more visible, people started speculating. And with that speculation came criticism and hate, much of which revolved around the age gap between us.

People began to make unfair assumptions, calling Jenni weird or saying she was using me to relive her younger years. They’d throw out all kinds of accusations, but I didn’t let it get to me. These people weren’t part of our world—they didn’t see what I saw in Jenni, and they certainly didn’t understand the depth of our relationship.

Jenni didn’t let it affect her either. She was confident in us, in our bond, and in what we had built together. Her unwavering belief in our relationship made it easier for us to ignore the noise. We knew who we were to each other, and that’s what mattered most.

That’s why, despite the negativity, we decided to share a small glimpse of our relationship with the world. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone; it was about celebrating the love and connection we had, regardless of what others thought.

The picture we had chosen was a candid shot of the two of us, taken by a teammate during one of our quieter moments.

We were sitting on a bench at the training ground, our heads close together, smiles on our faces as we looked at each other. It was a picture that radiated warmth and love, capturing the bond that had grown between us over time.

The caption was straightforward, no frills, no drama:

“Mi amor. ❤️”

Within minutes, the notifications started flooding in. Comments, likes, shares—it was overwhelming. Some were supportive, some were curious, and of course, there were those who were less than kind.

But through it all, Jenni and I held on to each other, refusing to let the negativity drown out the joy of finally being free to live our truth.

That night, as we lay in bed, the glow of our phones casting a soft light in the dark room, Jenni turned to me with a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Lo hicimos,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. (We did it.)

I nodded, leaning in to kiss her softly. “Sí, lo hicimos,” I replied, my voice equally soft. “Y ahora, no hay vuelta atrás.” (Yes, we did. And now, there’s no turning back.)

Jenni’s eyes sparkled with a newfound sense of freedom as she pulled me closer, our bodies fitting together perfectly under the covers. “No quiero volver atrás,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was filled with promise. (I don’t want to go back.)

We spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, our kisses slow and unhurried, our touches gentle and loving.

There was a sense of peace that had settled over us, a quiet understanding that no matter what the future held, we would face it together.

As I traced the lines of Jenni’s tattoos, my fingers gliding over the inked patterns on her skin, I couldn’t help but marvel at how far we had come.

The fears and doubts that had once seemed so insurmountable now felt like distant memories, overshadowed by the strength of our love.

“Te amo, Jenni,” I whispered against her lips, my voice filled with all the emotions I felt for her. (I love you, Jenni.)

“Y yo te amo a ti, Y/N,” she replied softly, her voice trembling with emotion as she pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. (And I love you, Y/N.)

We fell asleep that night wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside our little bubble fading away as we held on to the love that had brought us together. There would be challenges ahead—there always were—but for now, in this moment, we were content.

And that was enough.

FIN

[stylesloveclub]

Prose (part 3)

In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she accidentally kisses him. 

+++

A perfect day for y/n includes plugging in her headphones, getting herself a little starbucks treat, and going to the bookstore. 

After her week of midterm hell, she decided that she deserved this. She hadn’t been to the bookstore in a while, and none of the books she has right now are piquing her interest. She deserves her chai latte, she deserves to take a break from studying, and she deserves to have a day to herself. 

She’s unaware of her surroundings as she walks through the fiction aisle. She has two books under her arm that she’s deciding between getting (she’s on a college girl budget, she can Not afford to be buying more than one book a week), but a third one sitting on the new release shelf catches her eye. It’s by one of her favorite authors – but it hasn’t been released in paperback yet, and hardcovers are so expensive. Maybe she could see if the library has it, instead. 

She puts it back on the shelf, and side steps along the aisle, scanning all the books displayed all organized and pretty. When she gets a house, she’ll turn one of the bedrooms into a library, and display all her books with a bunch of cozy candles and a reading nook and it’ll be perfect. That’s the dream, she sighs. 

She moseys into the non-fiction aisle… not really her go-to genre, but when she’s at the bookstore, she’ll be there all day. There’s another girl in the aisle with her, with a book cracked open, reading the author’s note. Y/n is careful not to get too close, staying a couple steps to the side and looking over all the titles. Another figure joins the girl standing to her right – a tall male who looks oddly familiar. 

Suddenly she’s smelling vanilla and smoked wood. 

She peaks over discreetly, and recognizes the curly brown hair and hunched shoulders instantaneously. Harry stands close to the other girl, his chest brushing her arm as he looks over her shoulder at the book she’s holding. He’s got a book of his own tucked under his arm, and his signature smirk dimples his cheek as he whispers something to the girl. Y/n wonders what they’re talking about, feeling a pang in her chest as he quietly giggles with this other, pretty girl. He's dressed much more casually than his usual button ups and slacks that he wears to class. Nike shorts and a gray hoodie, with a brown pair of sunglasses pushing his unruly curls out of his face. 

This is the Harry that exists outside of class. He wears hoodies and goes to bookstores on the weekends and has friends that she doesn’t know about. She’s suddenly overwhelmed with how much she doesn’t know about him. For example – is this pretty red-headed girl his girlfriend? 

She swallows thickly and averts her eyes, pretending like she didn’t notice him. She doesn’t think TA’s enjoy seeing students outside of class (even if they are also the kind of TA to drive students home when it’s rainy or late at night). Plus, what would she even say? Hi Harry, is this pretty girl your girlfriend? Because I was actually hoping you were single and also I have a huge crush on you and sometimes I think about what it��d be like to kiss you– but I’ll try to keep all that to a minimum if you are actually in a happy relationship! 

She takes a couple quiet steps back towards the romance aisle – not only her favorite genre, but a safe escape route from any possible awkward encounters – but of course, OF COURSE she’d accidentally knock into a display table and knock a few books down. 

She quickly bends down to pick up the books and pretend like nothing happened, but she’s not quick enough to escape Harry who curiously calls out, “Y/n?”

She smiles nervously. “Hello.” 

The look on Harry’s face is one that could light up the darkest room. He smiles excitedly, his bunny teeth on display, and his eyes brighten with familiarity. He turns to the girl next to him, bursting, “Madeline– this is her!” 

“Y/n?” Madeline chirps, her voice light and fluttery like a bird. 

“Um, yeah?” Y/n’s eyes flicker between Harry and red-headed Madeline. Does Madeline know who she is?

Her confusion is obvious, her head tilting slightly and her lips pinched to the side. “Madeline is another one of the graduate students in my year–” Harry explains. “She TA’s for one of Dr. Richmond’s other sections.” 

Y/n nods, still confused.

“I’ve read your essays!” Madeline bubbles. “Harry and I always talk about our favorite students and send each other the really good essays!” Harry’s cheeks turn pink as Madeline exposes his favoritism towards y/n, but he supposes it’s not that much of a secret. Y/n’s eyes glance towards him curiously, who stands with his lips curled in a bashful smile. 

“Oh,” y/n doesn't fully know what to say, feeling shy and nervous but flattered at the same time. “That’s so nice, I… I didn’t know TA’s did that.”

“Oh yeah, we also send each other the bad ones…” Madeline prattles on, while Harry brushes his knuckles against his nose, almost embarrassedly. What a coincidence to see her here, when he’d literally just been telling Madeline all about his favorite student — the only student to show up to his office hours, who had so many good thoughts on the books that they were reading, and who wasn’t even an English major! The two graduate students always complained to each other how the students that they TA-ed didn’t seem to appreciate the books they analyzed together – how hard it was to get students to participate, which is silly since they literally signed up for those classes voluntarily. It’s rare to have students who genuinely want to talk to them about whatever they’re reading in class.

Madeline rests a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go check out this book and then we can go back to yours, yeah?” He has no idea what else she might’ve said within the past minute, too caught up in his own thoughts, but he nods as she walks towards the register. That leaves him alone with y/n. 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, and y/n tucks her books to her chest protectively. She’s silently analyzing what Madeline might’ve meant when she said that they’d go back to his place. He nods his chin towards the books, “What are y’getting?” He genuinely can’t control the way his eyes glimmer with fondness when he looks at her. 

She reveals the covers to him. “Well, this one’s called Rebecca… and this one’s called Bunny.”

His lips twitch, “Bunny?” She nods. He thinks about the way y/n’s nose tends to twitch like a little bunny. What a fitting book. 

“What book are you and… Madeline getting?” 

“Er– just a book Dr. Richmond wanted us to pick up for him. For the section Madeline TA’s for.” 

She nods. He rocks back and forth on his toes, staring at her with that fond glimmer still in his eye. 

Madeline comes skipping back a few seconds later. “Ready?”

With a wave, Harry and Madeline head out. Y/n carries on with her book shopping, Harry lingering in the back of her mind. 

+++

“Okay everyone, that’s all for today,” all the students in the room start shutting their laptops and zipping their bags as Dr. Richmond closes his own book. “Don’t forget to do this weekend's reading, check the course site for the next essay prompt… and, um… yeah, that’s it.” Harry quickly stands from his corner of the classroom, tapping Dr. Richmond lightly on the shoulder. “Oh!” Dr. Richmond exclaims into the mic, “Wait– everyone pause, Harry has an announcement.” 

The shuffling and murmurs die down, as Harry stands in front of the lecture hall with his hands folded behind his back. “Um– Just wanted to let you all know that your essays have been graded. Scores will be posted by the end of the day, and if you have any questions or want to go over your papers, you can come to my office hours. Thursdays at 5.” 

He gives a soft, close lipped smile, and everyone resumes their chattering. Y/n is the only one who approaches Harry’s desk.

“Hi,” she fiddles with the straps of her bag nervously, “Can I know how I did?”

Harry, who’s packing up his books, gives her a teasing side eye, a sly smirk on his lips, “Didn’t I just say come to office hours?”

She shrugs, “Was hoping you’d tell me early. Since I’m your favorite and all.” 

He breathes a laugh through his nose, looking around the classroom to scour if anyone’s still there other than the two of them. He can’t even bring himself to deny it. “M’not supposed to have favorites,” is all he has to say. His cheeks tint pink and he smiles bashfully, both of them knowing fully well that his favoritism is undeniably there, even if he’s technically not supposed to let it show. 

“Come on Harry,” she pleads, wide eyed and pretty, “I worked extra hard on it since I had that extension. I literally spent all weekend on it.”

He clips the buckles on his briefcase and looks at her with an exaggeratedly heavy sigh, “I suppose I could make an exception. Only ‘cos you worked so hard on it.” She beams at him. “We’ve got t’go to my office though. There’s a discussion in here right after us.”

“Okay,” she starts toward the door, trotting eagerly ahead of him like an excited little bunny. “Do you mind if we stop by Starbucks first? It’s on the way to your office.”

+++

The Starbucks line is short. Harry goes first. “Could I have an americano, please?” he orders. He then looks back at y/n, “And um… also one of those chai drinks? With the pumpkin spice?” he smiles charmingly at the barista, and ignores the way y/n rushes to his side. 

“Wait– Harry, you’re not getting that for me are you?” she whispers, tugging on the sleeve of his coat.

The barista asks Harry what size he wants the pumpkin chai. He turns to y/n, “What size d’you usually get?”

“No, Harry– you can’t–”

“A medium should be good, I think,” he says to the barista, brushing off y/n’s complaints. 

She pouts as he whips out his card and taps it on the reader. “Why are you allowed to get me drinks if I’m not allowed to get you drinks?”

He shrugs, walking away from the register. “Because I said so.”

+++

It’s exactly when they settle down in Harry’s office that Madeline makes another appearance.

“Hey Harry,” she says, knocking on his door and peeking in. “Oop– Hi y/n. Did you see Dr. Richmond’s email about the grad panel? Do you think you’ll go?”

“Umm,” Harry sits in his chair and unlocks his computer with pursed lips, “Dunno. Don’t really want to. S’not mandatory, is it?”

“No. I’ll only go if you go. It’ll be boring, otherwise.”

“Nah,” Harry scrunches his nose. “Lets not. M’tired. And m’having some office hours right now,” he says with a nod towards y/n. 

“M’kay,” Madeline shrugs. “Nice to see you, y/n!”

Y/n has no reason to dislike sweet, kind, bubbly Madeline, other than for the fact that she seems to be exceptionally close with Harry. She feels a pit in her stomach when she sees the pretty girl bounce away, carefree and happy. Of course, she has no good reason to be jealous, because Harry is just her TA, and he’s just nice to her because she comes to his office hours, and that she should have absolutely no expectations of anything to come of her crush.

Harry pulls out the folder of all the graded papers, and shuffles through the names until he gets to hers. He hides her score from her, staring at her teasingly. “You sure you wanna see it with me right here?”

She nods eagerly, eyes wide and excited.

“Okay…” He drags it out, looking down once more at her paper before revealing the big 100% written at the top of her paper.

Her jaw drops. “Really?” 

“Mhm,” he says with a big smile. Leaning in, he whispers, “the only perfect score in the entire class, too.” 

Her smile grows wider, and she’s speechless, staring at her score. She was proud of the essay, of course, but she’s always nervous about getting grades back. There’s always room for improvement, she knows, but most professors are pretty ruthless with the criticism.

“S’not that surprising, is it?” he asks with a quirk of his lip. Surely she must’ve known that she’s a good writer, no? 

She shrugs. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was going to get a perfect score.” 

“It was brilliant, really,” he says, “And not just because m’playing favorites. I showed it to Madeline too, and she thought it deserved a perfect score as well. You’re so cohesive and elegant with your words… s’well deserved. You’re writing is on par with some of the graduate students in my year, honestly.” 

Y/n feels her cheeks heating, flipping through the pages. Despite the fact that he gave her a perfect score, it doesn’t mean that her paper is empty of any criticism. He’s made little notes all over the margins, playing on her ideas and telling her ways he thinks she could build upon them in the future. Her eyes lightly skim through his notes and the generous amount of praise he’s written for her. “Love this,” he wrote, highlighting a certain section of her essay. “Wish you talked more about this in the intro,” he writes at another point. He’s still advising her on how to get better and what she could improve on, but… “You met all the rubric requirements. By our grading standards, it’s perfect.”

“No deductions for submitting it late?” she asks nervously.

“Y’didn’t submit it late. Dr. Richmond gave you an extension. I told him how many units you’re in, and how you’re not even taking this class for any credit towards your major – and he agreed that you deserved some slack.” He takes one of the papers from his stack of essays and uses it to playfully smack the top of her head, “stop worrying about that.”

Her chest bubbles with relief and she smiles. “Well… thanks for letting me get it back early,” she says. “I, um– I’d love to talk about it more in depth but I don’t wanna bother you… like, if you wanted to go to that thing with Madeline, we can be done.”

Harry groans, “oh my god, please no. I don’t wanna go to that panel. I’ll take any excuse not to go.”

“Are you sure?” y/n tilts her head. “Madeline seemed– like it just seemed like you two were… like…” she doesn’t know how to end that sentence, and has no idea where she was going with it in the first place.

Harry tries his best to fill in the blanks for her. “Madeline and I just usually go to these events together ‘cos they’re boring and it’s awkward to go alone. She’s my thesis partner so we usually stick together.” Harry rubs his eyes tiredly, “I really don’t wanna think about my thesis though. I spent all weekend grading, I just wanna go home and nap. Not go to a panel of a bunch of thesis advisors. That sounds miserable.”

Y/n nods, chewing on the inside of her lip. “Oh. Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun.” 

“Yeah,” he lets out a deep, tired sigh. “Anyway.” 

Y/n’s lips kiss her teeth as she rolls her lips inwards. “Well– I should head out then,” she stands up quickly, suddenly feeling awkward, “I don’t want to keep you here if you’re tired.” 

“S’no trouble,” he says, sitting up. 

She turns about herself, grabbing her bag from the floor and her jacket from the back of her chair. “No, honestly I’m kind of tired too,” she rambles, “I’ll look over the notes you left for me and come back during office hours.” She reaches forward to grab her essay from the desk, unaware of the way the sleeve of her sweater is dragging across his desk and snagging onto the lid of her half full iced chai, sending it onto the floor. The lip pops off of the drink when it meets the ground, and she gasps as his hardwood floors are suddenly covered in her pumpkin spiced drink. 

Harry rolls back from the splashing drink quickly, trying to avoid getting his nicely pressed pants stained, while y/n gasps, having no idea how her drink ended up on the floor. “Shit!” she exclaims, dropping her paper back on the desk and checking for the culprit of the mess. She nearly facepalms when she realizes it was her own hanging sleeve and unawareness that made her coffee spill to the floor. She drops her things back on the floor, “Oh my god, Harry, I’m so sorry.” She frantically looks around and sees a roll of paper towels on his bookshelf, rushing to his side of the desk where the majority of the mess is and kneeling down. She lays a ton of paper towels down on the floor, letting them soak up the drink, and looks on his desk to sadly find that her drink stained the edges of a few of his graded papers. “Oh my god. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, s’no big deal,” Harry’s quick to reassure her. He rolls back closer to her, a hand on her shoulder. “Just an accident.”

“But the papers–”

“S’just the edges. I once spilled an entire cup of soup on a stack of ungraded papers and had to just give everyone 100%.” He smiles, “That’s not what happened with your essay though, obviously.” 

She huffs out a laugh. He always manages to make things better when she’s stressed. 

He gets out of his chair, kneeling down next to her in his well pressed trousers to help with cleaning up the soaked paper towels. “No, Harry, I can do it,” she resists, leaning forward at the same time as him. Their foreheads nearly collide as she pushes his hands away, wanting to clean up her own mess. His chocolate brown curls have flopped onto his forehead, and his face is so close to y/n’s that she can actually feel them brushing against her forehead. He looks at her through his lashes, his eyes bright green. Her own eyes are wide and round, staring at him sweetly. Their faces are extremely close, her hand is encasing his, and they are both incredibly aware of it. 

Y/n’s lips part, as if she wants to say something, but she finds herself unable to create any coherent sentences. Harry similarly, stares at her through his lashes, his breath bated, his chest tight. 

Her eyes flicker down to his mouth. She stares at his pretty, pink lips, not curled into their usual, charming smile. He’s serious and deep in thought, his eyebrow furrowing. She’s too distracted by his lips to try and figure out what he might be thinking about. The air around them is tense, and neither of them say anything.

 There’s something so magnetic about him. She doesn’t realize that she’s leaning in… closer and closer to those pretty, heart shaped lips. 

Suddenly, y/n has inched so close that their noses are brushing. She can feel his gentle puffs of air against her lips. She’s so close that Harry has to flutter his eyelashes shut in order to not get cross eyed from staring at her. His heart thumps in his chest, and he swallows thickly. In a moment of weakness, he finds himself leaning towards her, and for the briefest moment, their lips brush, his bottom lip tickling her cupid's bow. His hand reciprocates her embrace, his fingers tightening around her palm. 

They both know they shouldn’t. “Y/n,” Harry croaks, and her heart flutters. “We shouldn’t…” Her heart immediately deflates, and she pulls back, embarrassed. Her gaze drops to the floor disappointedly, feeling stupid and foolish.

Harry can’t bear the distance between their lips– can’t bring himself to refuse the pleasure of having her soft lips against his. He likes her – of course he does! She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s kind… but she’s his student. That’s the only thing that’s hindered him this entire semester. The guilt of falling for one of his students, when he knows how wrong it is. 

The guilt isn’t strong enough, apparently. He follows her forward with enough force to connect their lips in a kiss. 

It’s soft and harsh at the same time – their lips are gentle, but his stubble is scratchy. The kiss is sweet, but the tension behind it is rupturing like an overflowing dam. He’s caught her by surprise, kissing her just seconds after telling her that they shouldn’t. But she’s not upset about it. She’s too busy reveling in the taste of his mouth, experiencing the feeling of his lips against hers for the first time, after daydreaming about it for weeks. 

It doesn’t matter that they’re both sitting on the floor, hovering over a spilled chai tea latte. 

It’s perfect. It’s exactly what she imagined. 

He feels warm, his skin soft, his lips sweet. His woody vanilla scent drenches her senses, and she’s lightheaded from how magnificent it is to finally be kissing Harry. Wonderful, amazing, charming Harry, with his dazzling green eyes and his soft, brown hair. Those boyish dimples and pretty pink lips, the same pretty pink lips that are puckered against hers right now. 

He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, his fingers gently making their way to tangle in the hair behind her ear. She feels his thumb on her cheekbone, caressing her softly, and it sends a blaze down her entire body. His rough, calloused fingertip, worn down from all the writing and papers he graded, grazing her soft cheekbone as if he’s afraid to break her. As if she’s the most precious thing on the planet.

Leaning forward on her knees, she inches closer to him, pressing herself more firmly to him and reciprocating the eagerness in which he initiated this kiss. His fingers tighten in her hair and his eyebrows furrow. Her lips are the sweetest, softest thing that he’s ever tasted, cloud-like pillows that he wants to kiss on for the rest of his life. 

He’s desperate to get closer to her – he wants to kiss her until she’s breathless and whimpering his name. Lean forward so that she’s lying on the floor and he’s hovering above her, his hand on her hip. Teasing his palm up her leg, under the edge of the skirt she’s wearing, while he fits his hips between her legs. He wants to pick her up and get her on the couch, spread her legs and kneel between them. Kiss up her pretty thighs, suck marks on her pretty skin–

Footsteps echo in the hallway outside of his door. They both jolt away instantaneously. The headrush of their magnificent first kiss starts to fade, and the reality of the situation starts to sink in.

They are in his office. The door is unlocked. She is his student.

Harry’s chest rises heavily and his eyes flutter open, hoping to meet her pretty irises – but her gaze is firmly on the floor, where she’s wiping up the last of her spilled drink and bunching up all the used paper towels together in her fist. She dumps them in the trash under his desk quickly, and stands before he even has the chance to move.

“Hey…” he tries to say, but he can barely find his voice. He’s stuck in a trance.

“I should go, Harry,” she says quickly, avoiding his eyes. Her lips are still swollen, a reminder of how not even five seconds ago, he’d been kissing her without a care in the world. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks up at her like a confused little puppy, distraught and wanting more affection. 

But it’s so wrong. Her heart aches, a mix of regret for being so stupid, but also regret that she pulled away. It’s too much for her to process.

She grabs her bag from the floor, and is out of his office, without another word. 

Harry’s fingers graze his lips. He’s left alone with his thoughts, and the lingering taste of her on his lips.

+++

For the first time in seven consecutive weeks, y/n doesn’t show up to Harry’s office hours. 

Harry spends the hour grading essays, alone. A cup of black coffee on his desk, and his floors sticky with the remnants of pumpkin syrup.

+++

Y/n spends the hour that she would have spent in Harry’s office hours, alone in her room. She’s glued to her phone, an incognito tab pulled up as she tries to calm her racing mind.

“Is kissing between a student and a TA prohibited?”

“Student-TA relationships”

“Rules on dating TAs”

“Will I get in trouble for hooking up with my TA?” (Yes, it was just a kiss. But hypothetically… if they were to hook up… would she get in trouble?)

None of the search results do much to calm her guilty conscience.

She wishes she could just appreciate her kiss with Harry for what it was – a sweet kiss with the most attractive, amazing, wonderful, perfect boy she’s ever interacted with. But there’s just the small, annoying fact that he is her TA and she’s scared that she’s gonna get expelled for that sweet, innocent little kiss.

She’s spent days worrying herself over it. Biting her nails and picking at her cuticles and tugging at her hair. Some people on reddit say that it’s no big deal, that graduate students and undergrads date all the time! But other people tend to disagree, saying it’s a bad idea, NO MATTER WHAT. No matter how sweet or handsome or kind that graduate student might be. No matter how much you might like him, no matter how innocent it all really is – just two people who like Frankenstein who get along swimmingly well.

The whole TA thing is just… a minor detail. Only partially relevant. 

Despite her reluctance, she still does show up to class because Dr. Richmond takes attendance and she doesn’t want to hurt her grade just because of some stupid, silly mistake.

She wonders how Harry feels about it all. He probably has more at stake than her – he’s the graduate student, after all. Does he regret kissing her? Or, like her, does he only regret the fact that she’s his student, and how risky it is? They’re playing with fire. 

Whatever the case may be, y/n decides to put the fire out. Her crush on Harry was meant to be a silly thing, something to keep her coming to class and motivate her to stay on top of her work. This has gone too far. 

She needs to wake herself up from whatever fantasy world she’s living in, and come back down to reality.

+++

Harry’s eyes are on her for the entirety of Dr. Richmond’s lecture.

He’s discreet about it, of course. It’s not like he’s outright staring at her. But he watches her from the corner of his eye, has her in the back of his mind as he tries to pay attention to whatever Dr. Richmond’s rambling on about.

He needs to talk to her. Needs to sort this out and make it right. He knows that she’s in her head about this – he can tell from how she refuses to even look in his direction. But he needs to tell her that it’s alright, that she’ll be okay.

Y/n bolts out of the lecture as soon as it’s over. Harry, as quick as he tries to be, can’t manage to pack up his things and follow her out fast enough. He tries to get past the students as quickly as he can, giving half-hearted answers to their questions and telling them all to come to his office hours instead – but it’s not fast enough. 

By the time he’s out of the classroom, she’s halfway home already.

+++

The same thing happens at the next class, too.

The normally active y/n, who eagerly participated in discussions and answered all of Harry’s questions was quiet as a mouse today – feigning a headache to the classmates around her. She kept her head low, kept her eyes away from Harry. 

And when class was over, she was out the door before Harry could even look in her direction. 

+++

there's part 3!! pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! 

Prose (part 4) is already posted on patreon! 

Prose Masterlist

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter ten

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . not proofread sorry, i had to take a break from writing my dissartaion to write this and i cannot fathom looking at my laptop for any longer tonight. also this chapter is v v angst so prepare yourselves <3 )

Y/N stared at her buzzing phone, her heart pounding in her chest. Mason's name flashed on the screen, a stark reminder of the tangled web of emotions she found herself caught in. She knew he must have seen Max's unexpected PDA on the TV, and she could only imagine the turmoil it stirred within him. 

Part of her wanted to answer, to offer some kind of explanation or reassurance. But another part, the part that had brought her to Monaco in the first place, urged her to leave the call unanswered. She wasn't sure if talking to Mason would only complicate things further, or if it would bring some clarity to the chaos swirling in her mind. 

So, with a shaky hand, she silenced the ringing phone and tucked it back into her purse, her decision made but her uncertainty still lingering like a shadow in the back of her mind, but she tucked her worries away the best she could and went to watch Max’s press conference.  

After Max finished his press obligations, he diligently scanned the bustling area, his keen eyes searching for Y/N amidst the crowd. When he spotted her, patiently waiting for him, a genuine smile stretched across his face, illuminating his features with a warmth that mirrored the affection he held for her. 

Approaching her, he caught her eye, his gaze softening as he reached her side. "Hey," he greeted, his voice laced with genuine appreciation. "Thanks for being here." 

Y/N returned his smile, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "You were fantastic out there," she complimented, her voice a blend of pride and affection. 

Max's smile widened at her words, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks," he replied sincerely, his appreciation evident in his tone. "It means a lot to have you waiting for me as I step out of the car" 

As the press area buzzed with activity around them, Max's expression shifted slightly, his demeanor taking on a more serious tone. "Listen," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "I have to stay late for a few meetings with the engineers. It might take a while." 

Y/N nodded understandingly, though a flicker of disappointment flashed across her features. "Okay," she acknowledged, her tone tinged with understanding. "I'll head back to your house then." 

Max's eyes softened at her response, his gratitude evident in his gaze. "Thanks," he murmured appreciatively. "I'll join you later." 

Just before he turned to leave, Max leaned in, his movements gentle yet deliberate, and planted a quick, casual kiss on her lips. The unexpected intimacy sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her momentarily stunned as she watched him walk away. 

As Max disappeared into the throng of people, Y/N stood rooted to the spot, her mind whirling with a myriad of emotions. The brief encounter left her feeling both exhilarated and bewildered, unsure of how to process the sudden surge of intimacy between them. It was so quick and casual, like it was something they had done a thousand times before. 

Feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her, Y/N decided to divert her thoughts by immersing herself in a familiar task. With a determined stride, she made her way to the nearest supermarket along the route to Max's house. As she perused the aisles, memories of the cozy café in London where she and Max had shared hot chocolates flooded her mind. 

Gathering the ingredients for the comforting drink, Y/N found solace in the routine of selecting the perfect items. She carefully chose the finest cocoa powder, the creamiest milk, and a sprinkle of cinnamon for that extra touch of warmth. With her purchases secured, Y/N made her way to Max's house, the weight of the bag in her hand a reassuring anchor. She greeted Max's two cats, Jimmy and Sassy, with a fond smile before retreating to the kitchen to prepare the hot chocolates. The routine of the task brought her a sense of calm, the rhythmic motions soothing her frazzled nerves. 

As she waited for the milk to warm and the chocolate to melt, Y/N couldn't help but replay the moment of the kiss in her mind. It had been so quick, so casual, yet its impact lingered, leaving her with a flurry of questions and conflicting emotions. She pushed aside the uncertainty, focusing instead on the simple act of gratitude she wanted to express to Max for his hospitality and kindness. 

When Max walked through the door and caught sight of Y/N standing in the kitchen, a wave of warmth flooded his chest. The comforting aroma of hot chocolate enveloped him, filling the air with a sense of home. Yet, as he approached, he noticed a hint of uncertainty in Y/N's demeanor, her eyes flickering with a touch of insecurity. 

Before she could overthink it, Y/N launched into a ramble, her words tumbling out in a rush of nervous energy. "I, uh, wanted to do something to say thank you for letting me stay here, but I can't cook, and I just didn't know what to do. But I know how much you liked the hot chocolate from that café in London, so I thought I could try and remake that, but I'm sure it won't taste the same, and I th—" 

Max gently interrupted her rambling with a soft smile, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her. "Hey," he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring. "You didn't have to do anything. But I love it, really. Thank you." 

His words washed over Y/N like a soothing balm, easing the knots of insecurity that had tightened in her chest. With a shy smile, she poured them each a cup of hot chocolate, the familiar ritual grounding her in the moment. 

As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. The warmth of the hot chocolate and the comfort of Max's presence enveloped her, lulling her into a sense of relaxation. Soon, she found herself drifting off to sleep, the steady rhythm of Max's heartbeat a soothing lullaby. 

When she stirred slightly in her sleep, Max gently lifted her in his arms, carrying her to her bed with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. As he laid her down, she murmured softly, her words barely audible in her half-asleep state. 

"Stay," she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability. 

Without hesitation, Max nodded, his heart swelling with affection as he settled in beside her. Y/N snuggled close to Max, seeking refuge in his comforting arms. He held her tight, their bodies entwined as they melted into the warmth of each other's presence. In the soft glow of the moonlight, they found solace, their breaths synchronized as they succumbed to the tranquility of sleep, their hearts beating in unison. 

As the sun rose over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows of Max's apartment, Y/N gradually emerged from the depths of sleep. She reached out instinctively, her hand searching for the comforting presence of Max beside her, only to find the space next to her empty. Blinking away the haze of sleep, she noticed a neatly folded note on the nightstand, Max's handwriting scrawled across the page. 

She unfolded the note, the words written in Max's familiar script inviting her to help herself to breakfast and join him at the track whenever she was ready. A soft smile graced her lips as she absorbed his thoughtful gesture, a warmth spreading through her at the reminder of his presence. 

Rising from bed, she made her way to the kitchen, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Max had left everything she needed for breakfast, from cereal and fruit to freshly baked pastries. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she savored the quiet solitude of the morning, the gentle hum of the city outside a soothing backdrop to her thoughts. 

After a leisurely breakfast and a refreshing shower, Y/N dressed quickly, anticipation building with each passing moment. Grabbing her bag and Max's spare pass, she made her way to the track, the excitement of race day tingling in the air. The paddock buzzed with activity as teams made final preparations, the energy contagious as she navigated her way through the crowd. 

Spotting Heidi among the throng, Y/N waved eagerly, her spirits lifting at the sight of her friend. They exchanged warm greetings, their conversation flowing easily as they made their way to a prime viewing spot. As the race began, Y/N found herself swept up in the exhilarating spectacle, the roar of the engines and the thunderous applause of the crowd filling her with excitement. 

With each passing lap, Max's car surged ahead, his skill and determination evident as he battled for position. Y/N cheered him on with fervor, her heart swelling with pride at his remarkable performance. Beside her, Heidi shared in her enthusiasm, their shared love of racing forging a deep bond between them. 

Amidst the chaos of the race, Y/N's phone began to ring, the sound interrupting the roar of the engines. Surprised to see Ben's name flashing on the screen, she stepped away from the crowd, the noise of the garage fading into the background as she answered the call, a sense of curiosity piquing her interest. Her and Ben never really speak to each other outwith the time they spend with Mason or Reece, so she wasn’t sure what Ben could want. 

As Ben's panicked voice relayed the troubling events, a knot of worry tightened in Y/N's stomach. "Y/N, it's Ben," he began, his voice urgent. "You need to hear this. Mason... he... he snapped during the match today. Tried to start a fight, punched someone. He got a red card and just stormed off. Reece and I went to his house right after, but he won't answer the door or his phone. We're really worried about him." 

Y/N's heart sank at Ben's words, her mind racing with concern for her friend. "Oh my god, Ben. Is he okay? Where is he now?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry. 

"We don't know," Ben replied, his voice strained. "His car's outside, but he won't let us in. If there's anyone he'd talk to, it's you. Can you try calling him, check if he's okay?" 

With a sense of urgency, Y/N assured Ben that she would do everything she could to check on Mason. "I'll call him right away, Ben. Don't worry, we'll find him," she said, her voice determined as she ended the call and hurried back to Max's apartment, her mind completely forgetting about the race and Max. All she wanted to do was get to a quiet, private place to check on Mason 

As she made her way through the city streets, her thoughts were consumed by concern for Mason. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since Ben's call, her mind filled with questions and worries about her friend's well-being. 

Finally reaching Max's apartment, Y/N wasted no time in dialing Mason's number, her heart pounding with each ring. "Mason, it's me," she said urgently as the call connected. "Ben told me what happened. Are you okay?" 

As Y/N arrived back at Max's apartment, her fingers trembling with anxiety, she wasted no time in dialing Mason's number, her heart pounding in her chest. "Mason, it's me," she said urgently as the call connected. "Ben phoned me. I'm really worried. What happened?" 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line before Mason finally spoke, As Y/N listened to Mason's voice on the phone, she could hear the raw emotion in his words, his voice hoarse and strained as if he had been crying. It pained her to hear him like this, knowing that he was hurting. "I don't know what to do, Y/N," he confessed, his words heavy with despair. "It's like everything's falling apart. I don't want to lose you, but... I don't know how to fix this mess. It's all my fault." 

Her heart ached at the sound of his distress, her own worry deepening. "Mason," she said softly, trying to offer him some comfort. "I'll be back soon, okay? We'll figure this out together. But no matter what happens, you won't lose me. You're my best friend, and that will never change. I promise." 

There was a moment of heavy silence before Mason spoke again, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "I saw Max kiss you on TV," he admitted, his tone filled with anguish. Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and after a moment of silence, she sighed deeply, the weight of his words settling heavily upon her. "I know," she said solemnly, her voice tinged with sadness. 

"I wish... I wish I could go back a few weeks ago. I wish it didn't take me so long to figure out how I feel about you. I had you, and I threw it all away" 

Y/N's heart sank at his words, unsure of how to respond to his confession. "Mason," she murmured, her voice laced with sadness. "Let Ben and Reece in. When I’m back in London I’ll come and we’ll talk about all of this okay. I’ll be back before you know it okay. But you can’t do that on the pitch okay. Don’t throw your career away because of all of this, it’s not worth it. 

When Mason asked her to stay on the phone for a bit longer, Y/N couldn't refuse. She understood his need for some semblance of companionship in this turbulent moment. "Sure, Mason," she replied softly, her heart aching for her friend. "Just go let Ben and Reece in, and we'll chat for a while." 

Mason agreed, and soon the three of them were engaged in a conversation that danced around the unspoken tension lingering in the air. They talked about anything and everything, deliberately avoiding the elephant in the room. Ben shared a hilarious story about a disastrous date he once had, and they all laughed together, if only to momentarily escape the weight of their troubles. 

However, as the conversation flowed, Y/N's attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of a key turning in the door. Reality crashed back in, reminding her of Max and the fact that she had left the race midway through without a word to him. With a heavy heart, she interrupted the conversation. "Guys, I... I need to go," she said, her voice tinged with regret. 

There was a moment of silence before Mason spoke up, his voice filled with concern. "Everything okay, Y/N?" 

Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have to go. Take care, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and prepared herself to face Max, her mind racing with uncertainty and anxiety. 

Max entered the apartment with an unmistakable storm brewing behind his eyes. His expression was a mixture of anger and concern, evident in the tight set of his jaw and the furrow of his brow. "Where were you?" he demanded as soon as he saw her, his voice laced with frustration. 

Y/N felt a pang of guilt as she faced him, knowing she had caused him worry. "I... I had to go," she stammered, feeling the weight of his disappointment bearing down on her. 

Max's frustration spilled out in a torrent of words. "I got out of the car looking for you, and you were just gone. No message, nothing. Heidi had no idea where you were. She said one minute you were there, and then you weren't," he recounted, his tone laced with frustration. 

He took a breath, his anger softening slightly as he continued, "I brought you here because I wanted to show you what my life was like. But you just left. I was really worried. Nobody knew where you were. I tried to phone you a hundred times, and it kept saying your phone was engaged." 

Y/N felt a pang of remorse wash over her at the realization of how much she had worried him. "I'm sorry, Max," she apologized, her voice laced with regret. "I didn't mean to cause you any worry. But, Mason needed me and i nee-” 

Y/N felt a pang of remorse wash over her at the realization of how much she had worried him. "I'm sorry, Max," she apologized, her voice laced with regret. "I didn't mean to cause you any worry. But, Mason needed me, and I needed to be there for him." 

Max's brow furrowed deeper, his frustration evident in the way he clenched his jaw. "Mason, Mason, Mason," he muttered, his tone tinged with exasperation. "It's always about him, isn't it?" 

Y/N recoiled slightly at the sharpness in his voice, her heart sinking with guilt. "It's not like that," she protested weakly, her words faltering under the weight of his accusation. 

Max's anger flared once again at her response. "Isn't it?" he retorted, his voice rising in frustration. "We spent an amazing week together, and I was feeling really positive about us. But one word from Mason, and I'm dropped." 

Y/N's heart ached at his words, the truth of them cutting deep. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I care about you, Max, I really do. But Mason is... he's my friend, and he needed me." 

Max's frustration was palpable, his anger radiating off him in waves. "I don't know what to do," he continued, his voice strained with emotion. "I want to be with you, but I can't keep competing with him for your attention. What do I have to do? Is there anything I can do or will Mason always come first.” 

Max's question hung heavy in the air, filling the room with an unbearable tension. Y/N felt the weight of his words pressing down on her, but try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to respond. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat, suffocated by the suffocating silence that enveloped them. 

Max watched her intently, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope. But as Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, avoiding his, he felt his heart sink with a profound sense of disappointment. He had laid his heart bare, baring his vulnerability for her to see, but her silence spoke volumes. 

"F- fuck this," Max muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he turned away, his footsteps heavy against the floor. With a sharp exhale, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding thud. 

Left standing alone in the wake of his departure, Y/N felt a surge of anguish wash over her, swallowing her whole in its bitter embrace.  

After everything Y/N couldn’t help but think that this what she deserved, to simply be alone.  

Tag List

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[whateverloomis]

Hello, lovely! If its not much trouble, may I please request something for Ada Wong? g!p Ada and maybe her usually shy and inexperienced girlfriend  surprises her by asking to be dominated for the first time, how she wants to be claimed by her in every way and reminded who she belongs too. And maybe reader calling Ada, mommy?

Hello love! Thank you for your unique request 🖤 I had never written g!p content before and it was very fun to experiment with it. Here's a shorty and intense drabble 💋 Enjoy!

Warnings: Domme Ada, Mommy Ada, p in v, g!p Ada, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, unedited

Reader: AFAB (She/Her,) has long hair || 3rd person POV

Ada and YN started dating a few years after encountering each other in multiple missions. It was casual at first, until Ada started to sneak into YNs room.

They had tried multiple kinks and fetishes, but YN wanted to try something different that night. She wanted to be dominated by Ada, fucked until she couldn't walk the next day. She wanted to give herself to her girlfriend and get humiliated. She wanted a Mommy to put her in her place.

That's why YNs currently pinned against the wall getting finger fucked by her girlfriend. She could feel Ada's hard cock against her thigh while receiving bolts of pleasure thrust after thrust of her girlfriend's skilled fingers.

"Mmm... More, please..." YN whimpered. Her cunt was dripping juices down her inner thighs. She was starting to get impatient. She needed to feel Ada's cock inside her. Filling her up deliciously as it grazed her g-spot.

"Please what, baby? You want me to replace these with my cock? Hm?" Ada questioned teasingly, curling her fingers against her girlfriends sweet spot, overstimulating her perfectly.

"Yes! Yes, please! Mommy please..." YN whimpered once again and Ada complied. She slipped her fingers out of her soaked cunt and turned YN around. Lifting her tight dress up, Ada revealed her thick cock and rubbed it along YNs folds, grazing her clit. Further teasing her needy girlfriend, but fuck she needed to feel her pussy around her cock.

She slipped inside YN all the way in and she nearly screamed at the feeling of finally being filled up.

Ada didn't waste anymore time and thrust at a steady pace.

YN sneaked her hand between her legs and started to rub her clit, further enhancing the pleasure Ada was providing. She was so worked up that she wasn't going to be able to last long.

"Faster... Mommy please, faster!" YN whined and Ada complied, however she was only half way in, edging YN.

Ada was a sadist and needed to get the satisfaction of torturing YN with pleasure until she couldn't handle it. Until she was so overstimulated that it almost hurt.

"You gonna cum around Mommy's cock?" Ada teased YN, pulling her hair to get easy access to her neck and choke her girlfriend with enough pressure to enhance the pleasure and get YN drunk on the feeling of desperation for Ada's cock to push her over the edge.

YN couldn't do anything else but whine and pant pathetically before she squirted all over the floor having a mini orgasm before exploding into bliss and nearly passing out.

Not long after, Ada came inside YN, her seed dripping down between her girlfriends thighs.

YN collapsed on the bed next to them and ADA pulled her tight dress down before kissing YN softly, whispering; "Good girl."

[everythingmp3]

all I need ✧

adult!Van x fem!reader

you and Van have been hooking up for a while, things are casual, the way she prefers them to be. then, one night, she catches you crying, which leads to something softer than what you’re used to with her.

author’s note: this is just something I quickly came up with bc I was having a rough night and wanted to write some hurt/comfort (I combined it with the idea of her wanting more than just surface level connections) so, if you’re also going through it rn, this is for you <3

warnings: none, just angst and brief mentions of sex, but I’ll still say minors dni

your visits at Van´s place always played out the same way:  

it was usually after 8 pm, you´d talk for a few minutes, nothing too deep, then you´d either go to her room or stay on the couch and hook up. afterwards you´d stay for another ten to fifteen minutes, getting yourself back to a presentable state and wishing her a good night before making your way back home.

she was not entirely careless with you, she did offer that you could take a shower or stay a little longer, she was polite, but you were too prideful for that, you weren´t going to admit that you wanted to spend more time with her, not unless she explicitly asked you to do so.

your arrangement worked, it was a formula that was reliable and efficient, her calling you about once or twice a week, you always giving in even when you were tired or wanted to play hard to get because your chemistry was undeniably perfect. the way you two initially met, had been rather unspectacular: you´d been bored with dating and decided to set your age range higher just to see who was on the apps, and got close to deleting all of your accounts after coming across one too many married couples who wanted a “third” or women who texted you with odd phrases and strange emojis, but just before giving up, you got a message from Van, which was refreshingly straightforward and normal, something along the lines of “you´re very pretty. would you wanna meet up sometime tomorrow?”. 

the first time you were at her place, the initial nerves you felt were quickly replaced by the thrill of how well you matched each other´s style of intimacy. neither of you had gone into the encounter hoping for too much, but somehow you both seemed to know right from the start just how the other person wanted to be touched, how they liked to be kissed, how slow and soft or fast and aggressive they needed certain movements to be, there was a wordless understanding that you shared, that was magnetic and made her abandon the other women she´d been talking to online, knowing that they wouldn´t offer the the same thing. after that first night, you both agreed to see each other again a few days later, which quickly turned into a regular hook-up situation. 

the one problem she had with you was that the more she saw you, the fonder she grew of you, which hadn’t been the plan at all.

a few weeks in, she started looking forward to hearing you come up the stairs of her apartment, helping you undress, feeling you eager on top of her, hearing you sigh her name, all of it, which had never been the case with other hookups she´d had, with other women it had truly just been an anonymous exchange, a quick way to get off, nothing emotional about it, she´d never dreamed of them after they left her place, had never wondered what they were doing during the day, but with you she did, all the time. and yet, she couldn´t bring herself to ask you out, to suggest that you should get to know each other and meet outside of her apartment, during the day, over coffee or a meal, something was stopping her, a final push was needed for her to break her promise of swearing off love. 

over the years Van had reminded herself again and again to remain detached, to never let any woman close enough to have the power to hurt her, it was a little immature and she knew it, her vehement refusal to open herself up to any possibility of more than just flings and short-lived affairs, so whenever she saw you, she tried hard to convince herself to finally drop the whole “fuck romance” act, but it was easier said than done. 

then, one particular night, something happened that she wasn´t prepared for. 

after having sex, you´d put your clothes back on again to go to her kitchen and get yourself a glass of water, while she kept laying in bed for a few more minutes. 

you´d had a rough week and were worn out from the constant effort to appear fine, so as you stood there, alone in her silent living space, suddenly overwhelmed by the pain that you´d stomached on your own for so long, contrasted by the joy you´d felt for the hour that she´d just touched and kissed you, you found yourself tearing up, the thought “nobody knows how badly I am actually doing. not her, not anyone” forcing you into a state of weakness.

at first you tried to get it together, you tried to think of other things, but once the first tear hit your face, it was like something deep inside of you broke open and refused to close up again. you looked up at the ceiling and tried to fight it, but it was pointless, so you steadied yourself against the kitchen counter and tried to be as quiet as possible, hoping and praying that you could just get it over with before she´d come out to join you. about two minutes later, when you were still lost in your sudden outpour of emotion, you heard her saying something to you while stepping out of the bedroom, her tone light and humorous, the way you usually talked to each other, which startled you into a frantic attempt to appear okay, the words on her dating profile ringing in your ears : “strictly casual.”

you knew that she had not signed up for intense emotional connections or for being the one to console someone mid-cry, so you wiped your eyes, trying hard to regain some composure, but she knew the moment she approached you that something was off, one look at your face was enough to know exactly what was going on, her stomach dropped at the sight of you.

she rushed over immediately and her voice dropped into such a soft, sympathetic tone when she said “hey, what´s wrong?”, that your crying started all over again, harder then, the kind that had your lungs compressed and your breath all messed up, the kind that forced your body to surrender, like a higher power was zoning in on you and demanding “feel it all” , at the worst possible moment.

nobody had asked you that question all week, and her of all people being the one to do it was a knife to the heart, it was all you´d wanted from her and everything you couldn´t have, her love, her care, so getting a taste of it was enough to push you even further into your spiral of despair. sometimes, kindness at the right moment, after going so long without it, hurts even more than cruelty, the ache of a tired, frozen body stepping into a warm, inviting room, the ache of suddenly getting it, the one thing you´ve been dying for.

you were leaning on the counter, your forearms straining, facing down, a position of defeat, of hopelessness, thick tears dripping onto the flat surface, like rain splashing against windows. she placed her hand on your back, ever so gently, standing there next to you, gauging your reaction and rubbing up and down in a soothing motion, not talking for a second, not pushing for an answer, just being a quiet witness for a moment. 

she knew that she should let you get the worst sobs out first, that she should save the questions until talking was possible for you again. you felt a sense of shame bubbling up inside of you as you heard the sounds that were coming out of your mouth, cries of pure desperation, undignified, almost choking on air, your chest hurting from it; you hand´t cried in weeks and in that moment it all came flowing out at once, every single suppressed emotion, every single sting of frustration and pain that you´d taken without flinching, suddenly sharp and excruciating, catching up with you, coming back to haunt you;  it was a full on breakdown and Van almost teared up herself as she kept her hand on you, on the body that had been flush against her own mere minutes before, that had given her something she so desperately needed, again and again, intimacy, gentle touch, an intense connection. it was all disguised as a casual hookup, but for her it was more than that, always. you weren´t aware of it, the soft spot she had developed for you, the fact that she did not kiss just anyone the way she kissed you, often and with feeling, you´d told yourself that it was just something she did with every girl, passionate kissing, but it wasn´t, usually she kept it limited, the amount of times she allowed herself to place her lips on someone´s cheek, their neck, their shoulder, she normally kept her hookups impersonal and focused on getting off, but with you, she used it to also get the kind of romance she was starved for without explicitly asking for it, while letting you believe that it wasn´t meaningful. 

in that moment it dawned on her, that she did really care about you, that it wasn´t a “no strings attached” situation, not at all. she wanted nothing more than to ease your pain, to treat you the way a girlfriend would, to make you a tea and take you back to bed and listen to your worries, to help you in some way. she felt painfully useless just standing there, and even worse, seeing you cry like that made her feel awful, guilty even, because she had never stopped to consider that you might be going through some serious things, that you might have been hiding a good amount of pain from her whenever you saw each other, probably out of fear that she´d get turned off by vulnerability. she thought “you fucking idiot” about herself in that moment, realizing that she had never bothered to earnestly ask you how you were doing. 

you seemed like such an easy-going and chill person to her and she was so caught up in feeling sorry for herself most days, that she´d been blind to the fact that being young didn´t mean that you didn´t know suffering too, a little too intimately, judging from the utter devastation she could read in the intensity of your sobs, the kind that she´d only seen from others maybe once or twice in her entire life. she knew how exposing it must have felt for you, to have her present for all of that, so she did her best to just stand there and act like a kind of guard, to shield you in some way, to make you feel less alone, without coming on too strong, since she couldn´t read your mind, couldn´t know for sure that you wanted her to comfort you. still, she was pretty certain that you did, since you hadn´t moved an inch away from her.

eventually, you got through the worst of it, your face all red and puffy, your eyes bloodshot as you stood upright again and wiped your tears, a sudden ache on your lower back once she let go of you, you wanted her to keep touching you, but of course, you wouldn´t ask her to. 

“god I´m so sorry. I don´t know what just happened”, your voice still shaky and weak as you said this, your sleeves damp from your attempt to wipe the moisture off your cheeks. she was standing close to you and sounded serious then, “there is absolutely no need to apologize, okay? I´m just…” she didn´t know how to say it, seeing your fragile expression, the way you were holding yourself, broken open, raw like a wound, it all went straight to her heart, so she threw her rule about not getting emotionally involved out of the window for good and stepped forward to pull you into a tight embrace, her arms around your back as you instinctively went to rest your head against her shoulder, stunned by the sudden gesture of tenderness, moved to tears yet again, a silent, barely audible crying as you held onto her shirt, hard enough to make it clear for her, that you wanted her to be there for you, that you needed her to be.

she could tell from the way your body was trembling that you were dealing with tears again, so she stroked your hair and whispered “hey, it´s okay, I´ve got you, you can stay here for as long as you want”. you let the smooth sound of her voice and the sensation of her embrace lull you into a state of exhausted relief, your muscles slowly loosening up again, your thoughts becoming quieter, which was what she´d hoped would happen, and for a second she had no idea how to handle it, the overwhelming affection she felt for you, the visceral need to keep being the person you went to with your troubles. 

for a few minutes you just stood there together in her kitchen, chest to chest, the familiar scent of her soothing you, and the sensation of being as close as possible, heartbeats mere inches apart, it all managed to slowly stop your crying for good, replacing the pain in your chest with the haze that clouds your mind after sobbing that hard. 

once you were in a somewhat stable mood again, you let go of her and looked at her, rather shyly, a soft smile on her face when she saw that you seemed a bit better, calmer, reaching for both of your hands then, holding them reassuringly, “how about you go sit down on the couch and I get you something to drink, okay? you can use whatever blankets and pillows you want”, you nodded, a quiet “okay, yes, thank you”, which she waved off as she went over to the fridge, “no need to thank me, really. you´ve been nothing but nice to me, even when I was unreliable and flaky, so I think this is the least I can do” she had a point, it had happened more than once that she´d randomly blown you off, often on days where she was so depressed that being with you would´ve cracked her open, would´ve made her confess to you that she liked you, not just for your body. 

you were sitting on the right side of her couch, a blanket over your lap for comfort, as she sat down on the other side and handed you a cold glass of something fizzy with ice cubes, watching you gulp down a good amount before setting it down on the coffee table and exhaling deeply, relieved to see that your eyes were dry again and that your spirits seemed to be rising.  

she kept looking at you, her hands in her lap, an unusual earnestness to her, which you weren’t used to but grateful for. “so. do you wanna talk about it, or no?”, you did want to offer her an explanation but you also wanted to keep it rather brief, unwilling to exhaust her patience. “I´ll spare you the boring details, but I´ve just been going through it lately. personal things, family stuff, things keep stressing me out left and right, and it´s just all a little too much right now.” she nodded, listening intently, not breaking eye contact, so you went on “I´ve been feeling anxious pretty often lately but I just push it down most of the time, to function and get through my days, and most of the time it works, but yeah, sometimes it just…”, “gets a little too heavy” she completed the thought for you, not unfamiliar with what you were describing. “yes, exactly. so that´s what was going on when you walked in. and sorry again, I know that must´ve been a bit weird”.

a deep feeling of protectiveness overcame her at the thought of you out there on your own, pretending everything was fine, her hand on your cheek then for a moment, unbearably tender, “please don´t say sorry for things like that, okay? it wasn´t weird at all, I just got really worried there for a second because you looked so…”,  her voice cracked and it got to you, that she apparently really felt for you, “I know.. but I´m feeling much better now, thanks to you”, the first smile from you then since she´d caught you crying, which immediately made her face light up too, your hand on her thigh, an appreciative squeeze as you said that. the way your face looked then, softly lit by the orange lamp nearby, that post-crying glow giving your face an endearing, achingly lovable look, it made it crystal clear to her: “I don´t want to go back to “casual” after tonight. I want more with her”. 

“listen-” she said, clearing her throat, averting her gaze for a moment, trying to find the words, “I know I said I was just looking for fun, for something casual, and it was true at first..”  your attention was gripped then, you leaned closer to her, her eyes finding yours as she continued, “but I don´t think that´s working out for me. not with you, because I do want more. I really like you, and I want to be there for you, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about this stuff , you know? and I want to spend more time with you in general.” she knew she should just say it plainly then, “what I mean is that I´d be lying to myself and to you if I kept acting like I don´t want to be with you, for more than just sex.” a brief pause before she added “if that´s what you want too, of course”.

you had to process for a second when she was done speaking because you were not used to her being open and honest like that, especially not about her innermost feelings, but once the words settled in your mind, your smile widened and you grabbed her hand, lacing your fingers through hers as you answered “yeah, it´s absolutely what I want, no doubt. I wasn´t gonna push for it, but I like you a lot. I always feel better when I see you, when I´m here”.

that way of putting it struck her right at her core “no, stop, that´s way too sweet, I don´t deserve that yet. I´ve gotta make up for not doing this sooner”, you laughed then, a tired laugh but a genuine one, it made her heart swell, to see you like that after seeing you hunched over in pain, “okay, sure, I wouldn´t mind that”. you leaned back , thinking of something, “so, you´re gonna break it off with the other girls you´re seeing?”, she laughed, running her hands through her hair, “the other girls, right”, she thought for a moment before admitting, “well about that…it´s kinda just been you for a while now.”

at first you thought she was bluffing, but you could tell from her slightly nervous demeanor that she meant it,  “so we´ve been exclusive all this time without knowing it?”, she didn´t know that you were also not seeing anyone else but she was glad to hear you say it, a satisfied smile from her, “guess we have, huh?”. you moved closer to her then and she pulled your legs onto her lap, “well then, how about I take you out on a proper date. we could get dinner on saturday?”, it all seemed so easy all of a sudden, “I´d love that, yeah”. 

you shook your head an laughed to yourself then, so she nudged you, “what is it?”, eyeing you curiously, “oh, I was just thinking about how desperately I wanted to hug you the last times we saw each other, but I knew it was off limits. so that was nice, felt good”. “oh yeah?. well it´s not off limits anymore, so”, she put her arm up on the couch cushion to make space for you, pulling you even closer, letting you nestle yourself in there.

“can I ask you something personal?”, she said, your head resting on her chest then, “yeah, sure”, “is there a specific person that´s making your life difficult?”. someone did come to mind, even though they weren´t the only issue you were dealing with, but you were unsure about telling her, “why do you wanna know?”, she shrugged, “well, if there is someone, I might have to ask you for a full name and address.”, that made you laugh, amused by her mafia-like way of putting it, “so you can do what exactly?”, she almost slipped up then and made a joke along the lines of “well, I hunted and ate people when I was a teenager, so I might be a good candidate for helping someone out with revenge”, but she stopped herself in time, instead saying “I´m not telling you. wouldn´t want you to be complicit”, and you knew she was not actually offering to kill someone for you, but still, you liked it, the fact that she was signaling to you that she was deeply troubled by the idea of someone messing with you. for a few minutes you closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her lightly stroking your hair, until you grew heavy and willed yourself awake again. 

as you got up from her chest and rubbed your eyes, she realized that she hadn´t told you yet that you could stay over, “do you wanna go back to bed?” she asked, like it was the most normal thing in the world, like she´d asked you a bunch of times before,  “you´re letting me sleep over?” you asked, slightly surprised, she nodded, “I´m letting you do whatever you want from now on”, a playful smile as she got up and held her hand out to help you do the same, “careful with that promise”, you said, but she insisted, “oh but I mean it. I wanna be fucking smothered, I kept you at arm´s length for way too long”. it was easy for her to charm you, so you felt all the previous weight on your shoulders falling off as you followed her back to her room, relieved and content, glad to actually lay down and rest under the sheets that you´d previously only been on top of. 

the moment she laid down next to you, she moved onto her side to face you, staring at you with a lovestruck expression that she´d never let you see before. it was a little surreal to you at first, how much she´d hidden behind her convincingly nonchalant exterior, how successfully she´d made you believe that it was one-sided, your attachment to her.

you looked at her for a moment, soaking up the attention and comfortable silence before saying, “thank you. for all of this.”, she nodded, “any time, really, I mean it”.

you were already half asleep by then but you used the bit of energy you had left to pull her face closer to yours and give her a kiss, a soft, heartfelt one, the kind you don´t just give to anyone, your hand on her face, a faint humm of pleasure from her, the warmth of her lips against yours leaving you weak with everything you felt for her, a glow to both of you as you got comfortable under the covers. you closed your eyes before she did and she couldn´t help but look at your peaceful expression, the outline of your facial features for a few minutes, whispering “you´re so beautiful” before she turned off the light and moved herself close enough to you to feel your body, even when you weren´t touching. you let her believe that you hadn´t heard her.

Van was good at beating herself up over all things she´d messed up in the past, she was prone to self-flagellation, but that night when she fell asleep, she knew that she´d done things right for once.

she´d gotten over her aversion to emotional intimacy and it had resulted in you not having to brave through your pain on your own anymore, so in a way, the regret she had about not opening up sooner was not about what she´d denied herself, not at all, but about what she´d denied others, what she´d denied you. 

she vowed to herself to be whatever you needed her to be in the coming weeks, months, however long it was that you´d let her be part of your life.

nothing made her feel better about having survived all of the horrors, nothing made her feel more convinced that it had been worth it to stay alive despite it all, than to feel it at her core, that her presence was a light in someone´s darkness.

it was a full moon that night, so your sleeping silhouettes were illuminated by the silver streaming in through the window, even though it was pitch-black outside. the symbolism was not very subtle.

[sleepingdeath-light]

shadowheart smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; baldur’s gate 3

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; shadowheart (including: her dark justiciar ending, her selunite ending, and how she is during the main game)

outline ; “smut hcs for shadowheart”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, switch!shadowheart, sadomasochist!shadowheart, lingerie kink, corruption kink, role play, praise kink, body worship

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

main game shadowheart / general headcanons

she’s a switch by nature and can be either a harsh dominant who delights in putting you in your place and flaunting her authority and power over you, or a bratty submissive who is intent on making you earn your place in her bed and won’t make her submission come easy — her demeanour remains the same for the most part regardless of her role, as in she’s not going to suddenly become an obedient little princess once she’s in your bed and allowed you to sexually dominate her, but when she’s subbing she’s more likely to try and push your buttons and try and get you to break and punish her (or, at the very least, to prove to her that you’re able to keep her under control without taking things too far and breaking an agreed upon boundary)

she does have some sadomasochistic tendencies and certainly won’t shy away from rougher forms of play if that’s what you enjoy (e.g. spanking and other forms of impact play, choking and other forms of breath play, hair pulling, marking, etc.), but it’s not exactly something that she brings up during a casual encounter unless you’ve already displayed an explicit interest in those things — otherwise she’ll only really bring up that side of herself after you’ve already been intimate once or twice and are familiar enough with each other to engage in that sort of thing without taking any serious risks (of course being a cleric herself she’s more than capable of healing you both if things get dicey, but she’d prefer to save her energy and spell slots for a time when they might actually be needed, i.e. one of those battles your ragtag group somehow keeps running headfirst into every couple of hours on your way back to baldur’s gate)

shadowheart generally prefers to be on the bottom of whatever position you’re in (and will rebuke any accusations of her being a ‘pillow princess’ because of this preference with about as much sass and snark as you might have come to expect from her), but she’s not completely opposed to topping if you’re less experienced than her or just really uncomfortable doing that (sex isn’t as enjoyable if only one of you is getting off, so if you mention your preferences or limitations to her then she’ll just help you work around them without getting offended or turned off or anything like that) — when it comes to the actual positions themselves, though she’s pretty much up for anything that she can comfortably contort her body to accommodate there are a set few positions that are unbeaten favourites of hers: missionary, cowgirl & reverse cowgirl, and wall/standing sex

while she’s not one to dress up herself (not least of all because your current lifestyle doesn’t really make purchasing and carrying around impractical outfits like lingerie very feesable) she definitely makes her appreciation known whenever you make an effort to pretty yourself up for her and won’t make any attempts to disguise her flirtations or the way her eyes are trailing up and down your body — bonus points if you surprise her with this after bringing her to a secluded area away from camp with plenty of good (or at the very least not-as-shit as the stuff you usually end up getting stuck with on the road) wine and enough food to keep you going until you’re forced to walk back to camp and actually get some rest before another day of travelling, fighting, and problem solving

she’s very talkative during foreplay, both as a domme and a sub, and she’s more than capable of using a mixture of praise and teasing and demands in order to get you into bed with her — the better she knows you the better she gets at pushing your buttons, quickly picking up on exactly what language, what phrases and in what order, are the most effective at getting whatever response she wants out of you (be that to make you flustered and aroused, to help guide you into sub-space, or to goade you into fucking her into her ‘bed’ until she’s too far gone to think about the tadpoles in your heads or her future under lady shar’s guidance)

you’re far from her first partner, which is something she’s never tried to hide from you, and even if she can’t remember specifics in her current state it’s still abundantly clear that shadowheart knows exactly what she’s doing (even if it does take her some time to adapt to your specific needs and preferences as a lover) — this also means that if you’re inexperienced with others that she’s familiar enough with her own body and what she enjoys to help you out and guide you (she will absolutely tease you for it, as she does with most things, but it’s not intended maliciously and she does let you know that she appreciates your efforts and that your lack of experience nothing to be ashamed of)

shadowheart equally enjoys giving and receiving oral, but she does have some preference when it comes to how you both go about either of the two — when she goes down on you she tends to take her time with you, giving you just enough stimulation to make sure that you feel something and react to it without giving you enough to actually push you over the edge, refusing to go further until you stroke her ego enough and beg for it in the way you know she likes (and then she’ll go rough and fast, skilfully pushing you through orgasm after orgasm until there are tears streaming down your cheeks and your voice is too hoarse for her to even hear what you’re saying anymore)… and when she’s receiving oral she much prefers to mount your face and just be able to use you to get off, riding your tongue and lips as you grope at her thighs and moan and groan into her cunt, trying to keep her voice steady as she praises and teases you, not stopping until you lose your patience and grab onto her hips and take control from her (or, if she’s the dominant one that evening, until you perform the agreed upon safe-action and snap her out of her fervour)

dark justiciar shadowheart specific headcanons

she’s equally as comfortable topping or bottoming for you, but once she’s accepted her new role in the nightsinger’s church shadowheart becomes much more confident as a domme and much less willing to hand over control to anyone else in any context — and as a domme she becomes much more sadistic and willing to degrade and hurt you (that being said, she still never crosses your agreed upon boundaries and never does or says anything that will push you away from her or leave any serious lasting damage in its wake — she may be crueler these days, and her lady may not permit any outside attachments, but she still does care for you and doesn’t want to lose what little of your connection still remains before her goddess forces her to cut you off)

she’s comfortable enough with flirting and playing with you in public and semi-public settings as long as you don’t act overly familiar or intimate with her (she’s a dark justiciar now, love isn’t something that’s welcome in her world) — so while groping, grinding, spanking, fucking, and making out are all on the cards as long as she’s not in a sacred place or around company where such acts wouldn’t be permitted, things like kissing, hugging, cuddling, and the sharing of ‘sweet nothings’ are all off limits for you both

in previous years she was never too fond of being called any specific thing in the bedroom, nor did she ever feel the need to call her bedmates anything in turn, but recently she’s found herself to be extremely receptive to you referring to her by her title (‘dark justiciar’, ‘justiciar’, or even ‘mistress’ in the right circumstance), and calling her that is pretty much guaranteed to have her giving you a look that promises nothing short of an eventful evening and a struggle to walk the next day — honestly doing anything that praises her for (or generally just emphasises) her devotion to lady shar and her role in her church is enough to appeal to her ego and get her hot under the collar (does this count as a religious kink? maybe)

she has a very distinct and obvious corruption kink and constantly teases you about leading you down a darker path and converting you to her lady’s church, sprinkling these comments in amongst her usual teasing when she’s got a finger or two inside of you (or when you’re inside of her) — granted for as much as she wishes you’d join her, shadowheart does still value you as a person and won’t force you to convert as she has others in the past… but if you engage in a bit of roleplay in the bedroom and decide to indulge her thoughts and lean into the whole corruption and conversion thing then she’s definitely not going to be complaining about that (in fact it’s only going to make her more aroused and more desperate to hear you scream her name)

because she’s no longer able to publicly claim you as a partner, nor behave in any sort of way that might indicate a sense of monogamy or devotion between the two of you, shadowheart has developed something of a marking kink when it comes to you and you’ll rarely make it out of an encounter with her without an obvious mark or two — most of her marks are hickies and bites as those are the easiest for her to give you, but she’s also partial to the idea of permanently branding or scarring you in some way (with your express approval, obviously)

as a justiciar shadowheart’s pretty much always busy with some task or another (overtaking a town, demolishing ‘lesser’ gods’ temples and artifacts, educating and finding new recruits, helping other believers settle into their new roles in the church, etc.), which means that it’s exceptionally rare that the two of you are able to afford to be with each other for more than a few minutes at a time — thus quickies have become a necessary staple of whatever it is you share: pushing each other against the wall and making out with your hands under each other’s clothing to hurriedly get off before she’s called off to the thousandth meeting of the week, bending her over her desk and fucking her to completion (or vice versa) before she’s set to retire for the evening, sneaking away during a rare get together with old friends to get off amongst the shrubbery and returning back to camp before anyone noticed your absence, etc… (needless to say you both become very familiar with each other and consequently very effective at making the most of what little time you have)

she prefers positions that allow her to be more detached from you as she struggles to fully repress her old feelings when she’s with you: doggy, concubine, reverse cowgirl, one of you facing the wall and the other stood behind you, and so on — if she can’t see your face then she can’t get distracted by things that should no longer influence her, which means that you can both keep seeing each other without shar’s explicit disapproval

selunite shadowheart specific headcanons

after a lifetime’s worth of pain and strife, she finds herself settling into her new quieter life with you and greatly enjoying the chance to slow down and appreciate the little things about being in a relationship that she would have never given much thought before you — this naturally means that she leans more towards long and thorough foreplay (with lots of body worship, praise, and playful banter) as opposed to quickies focused on just getting you both off as soon as possible (it also means that she’s much more cuddly and affectionate after sex, but that’s neither here nor there)

she prefers positions that allow for the most intimacy and connection, such as missionary or spooning, but there are occasions where she wants nothing more than to just be fucked stupid until the pains of her past can’t reach her at which point she generally doesn’t care what position she’s in as long as it ensures you hit all the right spots inside of her when she needs you to — either way, she’ll still appreciate you making the effort to make her more comfortable (grabbing her hands and squeezing them reassuringly, kissing her lips/cheeks/spine/shoulderblades/neck, whispering comforting words and sweet nothings just low enough for her to hear them, etc.), and know that she’s always going to do the same for you when she’s able to do so

as much as she adores the relaxing mundanity and routine of your new life together, she can still appreciate shaking things up with some roleplay here and there — usually this means roughly recreating certain scenarios from your adventuring days or handpicked scenes from the books you’ve picked up from stores much like sharess’ caress, they’re always a little bit silly and a smidge awkward at first as you each take some time to settle into your roles, but it’s always a good deal of fun and absolutely worth the time it takes to set up beforehand and clean up after you’ve had your fun (she always insists on being very thorough about this after going to sleep after one half-assed cleaning and waking up to some assorted flower petals stuck to her backside… including one that she later realised to be an irritant if left in contact with the skin for a long period of time, like sleeping on it for several hours… needless to say she was not pleased about that)

settling down doesn’t make her tongue any less sharp and even years after making a home with you she’s still just as able to tease and banter with you as she was back on the road to baldur’s gate — of course nowadays her remarks aren’t as biting and usually come when she’s either being a brat and goading you into taking charge, or when she’s teasing you for being so reactive to her touch as a domme, and there’s a lingering softness in her voice that was never there before, but rest assured that domestic bliss hasn’t tamed that part of her and, gods willing, it never will

now that she’s settled down and actually has a stream of income, she’s much more able to doll herself up to surprise you after you’ve been out tending to the garden and the animals all day — she has an extensive collection of lingerie sets in different styles that all somehow manage to suit her perfect despite the stark differences in design and materials from one set to the next

she’s very vocal about how much she enjoys watching you work the land and how distracting of a sight it is for her, especially if you happen to roll up your sleeves to do it, which naturally means that the best way to rile her up is to do exactly that and then ask her if she wants to go inside and take a quick break from your daily chores — you will not make it to your bedroom, you barely make it far enough into the house to land on the settee before she’s on you because she knows exactly what game you’re playing at and she’s not about to waste any more time than she needs to in order to get exactly what she wants

shadowheart is a big fan of outdoor sex so long as nobody else is around to catch you — for example, she’s perfectly fine making love to you on the beach beside a secluded lake or in the middle of the forest on a moonlit night, but she’ll politely shut down any propositions from you if she knows that there are other people close enough by that they could hear you and catch you both in the act

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

𝔅𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔗𝔬 𝔜𝔬𝔲

Pairings: AU!Street fighter Hook x Fem!Reader

Warnings: +18, adult language, angst, fluff

A/N: Special thank you to @theworldofotps for providing me the support I needed to finish this 💋

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @wickedval

Her mind constantly pulled her back to that night every time she looked at his face. The crushing feeling of disappointment was always present, no matter how much he smirked or tried to tease her, it was constantly there. Like an invisible mountain placed on top of her chest, constricting her lungs and preventing her from breathing properly, deception and betrayal made itself present within her whenever she came face to face with him.

His hands were tucked inside the pouch pocket of his gray hooded sweatshirt, undoubtedly hiding the fresh bruises on his knuckles. The New York harsh winter wind hit her face the minute she stepped out on the street, it blew her hair on her cheeks as she pulled the cream-colored woolen cap further down her ears.

Her attentive eyes did not miss the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk when his eyes landed on her face. He seemed so relaxed, almost at home, leaning back against the streetlight that faced the front door of the building she worked in. So much so that he seemed out of place there, his relaxed posture was a loud contrast to the hurriedness of New York, he was like a curved edge puzzle piece amid straight-cornered ones. He didn’t fit in the most beautiful way, *yet it was that very same beauty that fucked me up*, she thought to herself as she reached the last step of the concrete stairs and was now facing him.

“What are you doing here, Tyler?” Her voice held that impatient tone he was already so used to, and the familiarity made his smirk turn into a full grin.

“Was just passing by” He shrugged casually

“Just passing by? And coincidentally enough you stopped in front of the building I work in. Sure, just a casual encounter” She huffed a bitter laugh as Tyler pushed himself off the streetlight to get closer to her “Don’t believe me?” He asks, containing himself to not touch her the way he dreamed of for the past two months, although he was trying, Tyler knew it was all a matter of time before he gave in to his body’s needs.

The loud noises of engines, honking and cursing filled up her ears, blocking anything Tyler said afterward. *Gosh, I hate rush hour!* Her thoughts were interrupted by Tyler’s hand on her cheek “You’re too cold” His purple knuckles brushed against her skin “You have lived in New York for the past three years and still don’t know how to properly dress yourself for winter?”.

She could hear the teasing tone beneath his words, and she couldn’t help but let a faint “Fuck off” fall out of her lips as he only chuckled in return, “C’mon, tiger. Let me buy you a hot chocolate to warm you up, I don’t want you to get sick”.

Her heart tightened with his offer. *And of course he remembers that I hate coffee! God, can he stop being so sweet so this is not so difficult every single time?!* She quickly stopped her thoughts before they could delve into a realm she does not wish to go back to.

“I won’t!” She sighed before stepping away from him. Distance, that’s exactly what she needs from him, otherwise she’ll make the huge mistake of forgiving him and her brain does not allow that, at least not now.

“A hot chocolate won’t solve shit, Tyler! It won’t change a damn thing”

“Tiger” He began, and the sound of her pet name coming from his lips had her gulping hard.

“Don’t” She shook her head and began to walk away from him. Tyler ran after her, closing his fingers around her wrist softly.

“Tiggy, please” Tyler’s gritty voice pleaded against her ear “It’ll be quick, I promise. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to”. He turned her around so she was now facing him again, “Please? You’ll freeze to death before you get to the subway”.

Tyler’s eyes held that raw honesty she loved, but sadly enough, it didn’t prevent him from keeping the truth away from her before she found out on her own about the street fights. The one thing Tyler knew she would never accept was his fighting career, the violence, and danger was too much for her to take and inevitably enough that was the reason why she left. She couldn’t live with both the disappointment the lie had brought to their lives and the fear of what this meant to them, to him. Fear of what could happen to him during one of those horrid, bloody fights. The mere thought of something bad happening to him because of it and her having no power whatsoever to stop it was enough to make her pack her bags and leave.

But she knew this is where they would end up, this back-and-forth bullshit that caused nothing but pain to the both of them. Tyler’s persistence is what made it all so difficult, his focus and determination made it impossible to ignore him, and she did not doubt that those very same personality traits were responsible for his fame in the underground world of street fighting.

“Why do you keep doing this, Ty? I told you to stay away-”

“But deep down you don’t want that, do you? I know you like no one else, tiger. I know you’re still as crazy about me, as I am about you.” Tyler’s hands cupped her cheeks again, only this time he brushed his lips against hers “I love you, tiggy. So fucking much. I’d do anything for you…I’d give everything to have you back”.

“This is wrong” She muttered more to herself than to him, but that didn’t stop Tyler from answering:

“No, it’s not. You want this and I want this too, so why shouldn’t we be together?” His fingertips caressed the sides of her neck, drawing a pattern of small circles on her skin. “Don’t you miss me? Not even a little bit? Because I sure as hell miss you, tiggy”.

She felt her breath hitching in her throat with the feeling of Tyler’s tongue tentatively tracing her bottom lip, tasting her skin with a satisfied groan. Her hands naturally roamed up his arms, until they stopped at the nape of his neck, fingers fumbling with the shorter dirty blonde strands she could reach.

“Come home with me” Tyler’s whispering voice caressed her wet lips, the pleading tone in his voice made her heart clench in her chest.

“Ty…it’s not that simple”

“Yes, it is!” He started with a clenched jaw, brown eyes staring deeply at her as if to make sure she saw the truth in his eyes “I love you, tiger. And I regret every single day for hiding the street fights from you-”

She pulled back abruptly, needing to settle some space between them before she gave in to him “You lied, Ty! You did the one thing you promised me you wouldn’t do”

“Yeah, I omitted it, but I didn’t have another choice! Be honest to yourself for once, tiger. Would you have reacted any differently if I had told you the truth from the beginning? No! You would’ve left either way, so can you blame me for omitting shit when I knew that if I told you the truth you would’ve left me?”

Tyler tugged on her winter coat, I’m pulling her closer to his body to both shield her from the harsh wind and have her pressed against him. He had a point and she knew it, she would never have dealt with the subject well, not even if he had told her the truth from the start. It would still lead them here, to the front of this building, arguing over their feelings and actions.

“I was madly in love with you, and you know that I still am” Tyler’s warm hands cupped her full cheeks, she was always impressed by his warmth, how could anyone be so warm even after standing outside in New York’s winter for several minutes?

“I don’t want to lose you, tiggy” His lips brushed against her lips, lightly pecking the corner of her mouth he continued to murmur “Please, just come home with me. Let’s talk this through, I know we can find a middle ground to this”.

Tyler never pleaded with anyone, but this was desperation in its final stages. It was brutal on his soul to come home every night to an empty apartment, and even though it has been 10 months since she left, the pillows still smelled like her, he could still hear her laughs and moans throughout the small apartment, could still see her drunk self singing ‘The Phantom Of The Opera’ while sitting on the kitchen floor because ‘it has a great acoustic there’, he still felt her body pressing against his every night when he lays down in bed.

She wanted this, badly. A part of her always regretted ever leaving in the first place, but she was prideful and too rational to let her emotions get the best of her. Tyler knew that, being equally stubborn and prideful he would never let his feelings get in the way of anything but this was different. This is that type of love that’s able to change you completely, the one where you can’t do anything but feel, and all the things you once promised yourself you’d never do, simply don’t matter anymore. Again, Tyler never begged anything from anyone, yet here he is.

“Are you coming?” Tyler asked, fingers lacing with hers, trying to grasp every chance he had to touch her. “Come back home with me, tiggy”.

*There it is* She thought *The only thing that will always make me forgive him*, the mix of vulnerability, love, and pleading would always give Tyler an immense advantage that she could never have. This would forever be the cause of her ruin, the crumbled pathway back to her heart.

“Fine” She bluntly answered. Tyler was having a hard time controlling his excited smile and upon seeing it she quickly added “Just for a talk, Tyler. The only reason why I’m agreeing to this is because we need to settle this like adults and because it’s fucking freezing out here!”

“Sure, sure” He smiled widely before lacing their fingers together as he took her back to his motorcycle. “Whatever you say, tiggy,” Tyler said once she was settled in the back seat of his bike, he stole a quick peck from her lips before buckling the helmet chin strap for her. She gasped in shock as Tyler started the bike with a loud laugh.

The apartment looked the same as 10 months ago, Tyler hadn’t changed a thing. Everything was in the same spot as she had let them. Even the fall-themed couch blanket she loved so much was placed the identical way she always let it sit on top of the black couch.

“It was waiting for you” Tyler whispered in her ear, “Just like me”. He turned her around to face him, his hands cupped her cold cheeks as he leaned down to kiss her lips.

Tyler’s lips were warm and welcoming, his tongue danced around hers in the most beautiful ‘welcome home’ kiss. “I missed you so fucking much, tiger” His arms closed around her, holding her in place in the tightest bear hug he could give her without breaking her ribs.

“I missed you too, bud” She smiled against his lips, laying a soft peck on his delicate lips as she continued “I’m still upset that you hid the fights from me though”, her lips silenced Tyler before he could protest, “But” She starts again “I understand why you did it. Just promise me two things, please”

“Anything” Tyler quickly nodded

“Firstly, you won’t hide things from me again and secondly, I know how much you love the fights and whatever comes with it. I could never ask you to drop it but please, Ty, at least try to start a professional career in fighting or, I don’t know, get into fights that are somewhat safe enough to not get you killed. I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening to you because some asshole decided to take it personally. At least in a more controlled environment, they’ll stop whoever it is that you’re facing if they take it too far”

Tyler couldn’t hold back his happy grin “Consider it done, tiggy”, he states proudly, burning his face on the crook of her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed the most in the last 10 painful months.

“Now, if I remember correctly, you promised me a hot chocolate, Mr.” She giggled when Tyler’s warm breath tickled the sensitive skin below her ear.

“Oh, tiger. I’ll give you your hot chocolate. But first” He gently pushed her back on the couch until she laid flat against the velvety cushions, “I’ll give you some warm milk” Tyler smirked once she realized his pun.

“Ewww, that sounds like something a perv trucker would say” She chuckled loudly when Tyler cupped himself through the baggy jeans “Are you thirsty for some milk, Miss?” He teased until she burst out laughing.

“I already regret forgiving you” She cackled as he covered her body with his.

“I’ll make you change your mind, tiggy” Tyler winked before unzipping her winter coat.

[multifandomfix]

Lilith Ritter Smut Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

She ensures you’re comfortable, but her version of aftercare is more along the lines of whispering reassuring words and reaffirming the dynamic you’ve established in your relationship.

B = Body part (favorite body part of their partner’s)

Lilith admires your mind most of all, but physically, she's drawn to the neck, finding it both vulnerable and powerful symbol of your willingness to give yourself over to her.

C = Collar (do they mark you as theirs in some way?)

Rather than marking with something physical, Lilith marks you with her words and tone to ensure you know you’re hers.

D = Dominant (who is in control? are they a top or bottom?)

Lilith is very much in control and enjoys being the dominant one. She likes to maintain power in all aspects, including the bedroom.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lilith is highly experienced and knows exactly what she's doing. She's calculated, intentional, and can read your desires and fears with ease.

F = Fuck (do they prefer to fuck or make love?)

Lilith prefers to fuck rather than make love. Although she can make the experience feel sensual if it suits her.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Lilith is serious during sex. There's an intensity to her that leaves little room for levity in the moment.

H = Hot (what turns them on, gets them going)

Control and power dynamics are what turn Lilith on. She gets off on being in charge, knowing she can bend you to her will.

I = Insatiable (how do they act when they’re desperate to have you?)

When Lilith is desperate, it's more about maintaining control than losing herself. She becomes even more commanding and demanding, needing to remind you who holds the power.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

She might do it infrequently, since she much prefers the challenge and thrill of engaging with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lilith enjoys dominance and submission, playing with power dynamics, and some light bondage. Something that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and cherished under her control.

L = Location (favorite places to have sex)

Lilith prefers spaces she knows well, like her office or any secluded setting where she can be fully in control of her environment.

M = Mood (what’s the foreplay like? how do you get them in the mood?)

She'll seduce with words, make you feel seen and understood, then slowly build up the more physical intimacy with teasing touches and looks that make you absolutely wither.

N = Naked (how do they undress? do they like to watch you undress?)

Lilith undresses slowly, deliberately. She enjoys watching you undress for her as well, savoring your vulnerability. It makes you feel both exposed and desired.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Lilith enjoys both giving and receiving oral sex, but she prefers to give, ensuring you experience pleasure exactly how she intends.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Lilith can go either way. She reads your signals for what you need, and pairs that with her desire to tease you and always seems to get it at that perfect level of denial before ultimate satisfaction.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are not Lilith's preference. She enjoys the buildup too much to rush things, but she'll indulge in a quick encounter if it serves her.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Lilith is calculated with risks. She'll experiment and push boundaries, but always with a keen eye for what works within your dynamic and what doesn’t.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lilith has good stamina, able to go multiple rounds if necessary, but she prefers quality over quantity, ensuring each encounter is as memorable as it is intense.

T = Tryst (are they into casual sex or one night stands?)

Lilith may engage in casual sex or one night stands, but even these encounters are carefully selected and orchestrated. She's not one for meaningless encounters; there's always an agenda.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Lilith enjoys teasing and can be quite unfair with it at times. She'll push you to the brink before giving you what they want, keeping you dependent on her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lilith is relatively quiet, preferring to let her body language and more subtle sounds do the real talking. She might let out a low moan or a whispered command, but she's never loud.

W = Wait (how long do they wait before having sex with their partner for the first time?)

Lilith doesn't rush into sex. She takes her time, ensuring the groundwork of a dynamic is laid before moving it to the physical aspect.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Lilith's body is well kept and pristinely groomed. Underneath her clothes lies her scar, however, and she doesn’t like it brought up. But become close enough to her and she’ll open up about it, even letting you gently touch it at times during sex.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Lilith's sex drive is really quite moderate, and it's often more about the need for control and power than pure physical desire.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Lilith doesn't fall asleep quickly after sex. She might lie awake, replaying the events in her mind, and considering what she’ll incorporate next.

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Lilith Ritter: @blanchettlovebot

[elentari-celestaire]

✧ crimson-stained padisarah ✧

pairing -  al-haitham x f!reader

content notes - hanahaki, childhood friends to lovers???, angst, but, happy ending?, slight mention of death, mutual pining, terrible punctuations and all cause i did this sleep-deprived.

a/n - good luck to everyone pulling for al-haitham~  also, i will add some short brainrots for this piece when i have the time 

“Haitham,” a female voice from across the room called out to the acting grand sage, who merely responded with a soft hum.

If it had been anyone else who had dared to interrupt al-Haitham’s personal reading time, he would have just ignore them but, the person who had just called him knew that she wouldn’t be ignored.

“What are we?”

Silence filled the air as y/n observed the grey-haired male, anticipating his next actions.

“Ha-”

“Close friends, who have known each other since we were children.”

y/n’s gaze softened at the gentle tone with which he answered her with, something that she knew not everyone had the luxury of experiencing. Yet, at the same time, something inside her ached when she felt something bloomed. Ignoring the growing ache, she put up a fake smile, “Well, aren’t I lucky? To be considered the acting grand sage’s close friend.”

At the sound of a book being closed, y/n silently congratulated herself, knowing she had finally grabbed her childhood friend’s full attention.

Piercing turquoise eyes met hers, studying her features and body language.

“Y/n, where is this coming from?”

She broke the eye contact, choosing to divert her attention to a stack of books on a table next to her. “It’s nothing,” she stated. her fingers tracing the pattern of a flower on the book cover. A floral-themed novel. “I was just reminiscing about us. We have grown and changed so much. Little al-haitham all grown up."

“y/n.” her name was spoken in a warning tone, yet she knew there was no threat to it.

“I’m leaving for Liyue tomorrow,” the female announced abruptly, surprising both herself and al-haitham.

“What?” there was a frown on his face as he stood up from where he was reading previously. With each step he took towards where she was standing, he demanded explanation to her sudden statement, “Why are you going to Liyue? Y/n. Why am i only learning about this now?”

“There’s a doctor in Liyue, who seem to know about the hanahaki disease,” y/n explained, her voice soft, her gaze never leaving the books littered across the table — each book pertaining to the topic of flowers. “I’ll be going there with the girl to see what I can learn about it.”

The female inhaled sharply when muscular arms caged her to the desk, leaving no way for her to escape.

“Why are you going to such lengths for that girl?” he questioned as a slender finger lifted her chin to look at him — her eyes appeared tired, and she had eyebags, he noted. “It’s merely just a rumour. There was no documentation or information about that illness. It’s all in her head.”

Despite her breathing becoming more rapid, she continued, “you know very well the condition of the brains affect the well being of a person even if society assumes the illness stems from psychological factors and isn’t cause by any physical factors.”

“This is why i did not want to tell you.”  her e/c hues narrowed as she muttered, and she turned her head away from him, catching al-haitham off guard.

“And, no. It’s not simply a rumour. It does exist,” she exhaled sharply, her chest heaving as she struggled to push back the cough that threatened to arise. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”

The word ‘seen’ was truly an understatement. Seeming as she herself was a victim to hanahaki since a few weeks ago when she was unfortunate enough to witness al-haitham on a date with a certain dancer from Zubayr theater.

When she remembered the sight she had encountered, she had to fight back the petals she felt creeping up her throat.

“Are you done?” the casual tone in his question only made things worse for her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, she was starting to lose energy from resisting the florals in the back of her throat.

“Yes…” she breathed out as she pushed past the arms encircling her. Y/n fled from the room, but not before a cough escaped her — leaving a crimson-stained purple petal and a surprised al-haitham.

Tears that she had been fighting back fell at the sight of those blood-soaked blooming padisarahs that she had just coughed out in the sink. The uncontrollable coughing fit in addition to the sobs she was eliciting was torturous. It was excruciatingly painful, both physically and mentally.

“Y/n, what—”

Panicked eyes shot up towards the mirror, which reflected the look of terror in al-haitham’s face, the petal she had abandoned in the room slipping from his fingers.

The evidence lying around the female staring back at him was enough to answer his unsaid questions — the blood at the corner of her mouth, more blood around the sink and the bloodied full-bloom padisarahs.

It was then the realization hits him; how she appeared more exhausted recently, how at times her voice cracked or how her smiles felt forced and at times, felt sorrowful. The books she had been reading. It all made sense now.

“Y/n, you have hanahaki…?”

Wiping the blood away from the corner of her mouth, she averted her eyes from his and scoffed, ”so what? it’s just all in my he-” she was cut off as a coughing episode worse than the previous started.

Turquoise orbs widened as more blood, flowers and tears poured into the sink, some escaping and falling onto the floor.

“Who…?” he murmured.

“Do u even - have u even lo- like anyone before?” her hands gripped the sink — her knuckles turning pale white as she gasped for air,  “Do you even know what it feels like to see the one you love with someone else? wishing that it was you their smiles are directed at?”

“y/n…please tell me. who is it?!” al-haitham pleaded, his heart aching at the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Perhaps bringing her to the one she has feelings for will save her, even if something inside him ached at that thought. 

The female shook her head as another bloom fell from her lips along with her words, “it hurts so much. my throat. my lungs. my heart. and yet, I can’t bring myself to go through the surgery.”

“i cant bring myself to give up. all the memories. my feelings,” y/n whispered, her voice barely audible and her vision starting to darkened.

“i can’t bear the thought of forgetting you.” she breathed out before her grip on the basin loosened and her body went limp. 

Despite being in shock at the sudden confession, al-haitham managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

The gray-haired male remained on the ground, holding y/n’s body in his arms. Even after confirming that she was still breathing and had stabilized for the moment, his heart was still racing as he tried to process all that had occurred.

The revelation that she was willing to die to the hanahaki disease than lose her memories and feelings for him broke him, a pained expression forming on his features as he recalled the pain she was in minutes earlier.

After brushing away a strand of her hair from her face, he carried the female's unconscious body in his arms and exited the bloodied scene.

E/c eyes opened, albeit tiredly as she felt herself being lifted and moved.

“im sorry. to get blood on you...” y/n whispered, her voice hoarse as she gazed at him with tired eyes.

“don’t speak. you’ll only hurt your throat. rest. please…”

Leaning against his chest, y/n once again closed her eyes. She could feel the rhythm of al-haitham's unsteady heartbeat. It was rare to see his usual calm demeanour crack, even as someone who had known him the longest.

Was she perhaps special to him that he was willing to show this vulnerable side to? Or, was she just being hopeful?

“To answer your question, yes.” he whispered.

“Wh-what?!” Y/n’s eyes shot wide open, but she started having another coughing episode from the outburst. After she calmed down, she could only stare at the gray-haired male as he continued while still looking ahead.

If it’s one thing y/n hated about al-haitham, it was his ability to mask his emotions perfectly. Even having known him since young, it was always difficult to know what was on his mind.

“I know how it feels to possess this feeling you call love. i would say I know this feeling quite well, if I have to be honest with you.”

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the frown on her face.

“please, let me finish what i have to say before jumping to conclusions,” he said, taking a long breath before continuing, his voice slightly breaking, “I hate this side of you so much. how much of yourself have you destroyed because of your tendency to jump to conclusions? “

“i won’t say i have ever felt the pain of seeing the person i love being with someone else but, i do know the pain of seeing the person i’m in love with being in pain yet, being unable to do anything. i swore to protect you and yet, i couldn’t even see that all this time, you have been hurting so much on your own.”

Y/n's frown was replaced with that of surprise at that admission. Her vision became blurry as tears pooled at the corner of her eyes.

Something in her felt lighter.

“i…i was afraid. That i would ruin our friendship…that you would start avoiding me…i couldnt bear the thought of never seeing you again. so, i thought it would be fine if i stayed by you as a close friend.”

Upon entering his room, al-haitham laid her down on the bed and held her hand in his. With a sigh, he rested his forehead on their linked hands, his hand trembling slightly.

He took a brief pause before releasing a shaky breath.

“how naive am i. because of my cowardice, i had almost…lost you in the worst way possible.”

“i truly apologise yn. had i not been so blind…” his voice broke as his grip on her hands tightened.

The feeling of dampness on her hand caused a new wave of tears to fall from her eyes.

“if i had left you alone then. if i had not chased after you. i could have lost you forever. and our last conversation would be of us arguing.”

y/n shook her head frantically, “no.nonono!! please, haitham!! it's not your fault!” she cried out as she tackle hugged him, catching him off guard. His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist to keep them from falling onto the ground.

“i was afraid as well! you’re so perfect. so intelligent and capable. have you seen yourself when you fight? the way you wield those swords? how could i ever compare to you? surely there’s no way you would like me romantically. and then, i saw you and nilou. you guys just looked so go-”

a slender finger was placed on her lips, stopping her mid-sentence. 

“As much as i enjoy listening to you fawning over me. I have to stop you there. how did nilou even get into this equation?”

“Didn’t you went out on a date with her at the bazaar? You were smiling back then as well…?”

“That…” al-haitham’s hesitation made y/n fixed her gaze on him, a frown once again making their way on to her features.

With a soft flick to her forehead, he scolded, “stop that.” al-haitham contemplated for a moment before sighing in defeat, “ok. fine. i was just asking her for advice.”

Y/n was just staring at him in disbelief. “You?? Asking for advice???”

“i was contemplating if i would be satisfied just remaining as close friends. and, she happened to be there. she asked me some questions and it gave me the answer i needed. that’s all. there’s nothing between us. i assure you.”

“what did she ask? wait…do i even want to kn-”

when he recalled the question nilou had asked him, al-haitham’s expression was that of annoyance, “she asked how would i feel if you fell in love with someone else and started a family with them.”

“and?”

“i said no.” he stated, crossing his arms as if it was an obvious answer.

“what?! but, we’re not even-” came y/n’s baffled reply.

“no. i would not allow that to happen.”

“this is new.”

“what is?”

“this side of you.”

“it’s not,” his lips curled into a slight smile as his turquoise hues softening when they landed on hers, ”it has always been there when it comes to you.”

“???”

some brainrots (or some extra conversation of this fic) 

[lesbianoms]

A wlw pred/prey couple who are just extremely soft and trusting with each other and who are both working through different issues related to their nature.

The prey has trauma about being eaten. She’s had bad experiences with a lot of preds she’s encountered— they treat her like a piece of meat and take delight in her suffering, and they seem all too eager to push her past the breaking point. She’s narrowly escaped being digested and she still has graphic, gorey nightmares about dying alone in some random pred’s stomach. Some days she doesn’t see herself as human.

The pred is terrified of losing control and hurting someone. There’s never been any reason for her to believe she would ever do so, but she’s heard the stories. She’s seen others like her fall down that dark isolating path, where the animal madness grips their minds and the hunger pangs completely destroy any prior regard they may have had for their loved ones, for human life itself. She’s worried that one day she’ll wake up and there will be a monster staring back at her in the mirror.

Vore doesn’t come as casual to them as other prey/pred couples. They actually barely engage in it at all; outsiders may see this as “weird” or “unnatural,” but honestly they all just need to mind their own damn business.

Instead of eating each other, the two of them just cuddle up under a blanket and forget the rest of the world together. As strange as it is, the prey actually enjoys listening to her pred's stomach gurgles... it might be because they're the first digestive sounds she's heard where she knows she's actually safe while listening to them. Her life is not in danger. Her life actually... really matters to this pred.

And the pred loves having a prey who trusts her so completely, enough to snuggle against her warm body and listen to how her body breaks down regular food. She may worry sometimes, but in those moments of despair her prey is her anchor, her tether back to reality. It's grounding, comforting.

They have nothing to be ashamed of.

[lux-and-obscurus]

Lesbian wolfstar au where Remus is a dedicated and talented painter at a prestigious art school & Sirius, who attends said school, is one of the best (and most gay/chaotic) ballerinas in the dance department and this is the first conversation they have <3

I'm dead, Sirius thought, her heart pounding as she sprinted across the university courtyard. Fingers flying, she frantically attempted to tame her unruly, curly black hair into a semblance of a bun even though she knew the ballet mistress would cast a disapproving glance at any imperfection.

But it was better than being late, which was considered an unforgivable sin, punishable by a demotion to the back of the barre. The back of the barre was not where she belonged. She thrived at the front, basking in the mistress's favor. Sirius picked up the pace. 

Finally, she burst into the large dance building, her pointe shoes swinging wildly from the ribbons clutched in her fist. Her breath quickened as she raced towards the changing rooms. Her slender yet muscled legs, encased in sheer white tights, beginning to ache.

"Excuse me!" she exclaimed desperately, abruptly halted as a procession of students, carrying an oversized canvas, blocked her path. They barely acknowledged her presence as they marched forward and her destination disappeared from view completely. 

"Coming through!" a voice boomed from behind the canvas. "Keep going down the hall!" the voice instructed the students. As the canvas cleared, revealing the person in charge, she apologized with a distracted glance at the clipboard in her hand, "Sorry, darling. Just passing through."

Curiosity suddenly overcoming her urgency, Sirius asked, "What's the big canvas for?" The girl with the clipboard looked up and pushed her wavy brown hair away from her face, looking surprised by Sirius’s interest.

As their eyes met, Sirius realized she recognized her. The university's population was vast, but certain faces were unforgettable. Remus Lupin's was one of them. Her striking, enigmatic eyes would have been the first thing Sirius identified her by, had it not been for the lines of mysterious scars that slashed across her cheeks. 

"We're doing a portrait of you lot," Remus explained, gesturing to a photograph of the 3rd year ballerinas on the wall beside them. "Well, I am. Your... er..ballet master commissioned me." She explained with a nervous smile, clearly out of place in the ballet world. Sirius’s world. 

"I didn't know that," Sirius replied, surprised. "But I think I've seen your work. I've been to a few of the gallery shows the school's put on and I'm pretty sure I remember some of your paintings…I’m sure it will turn out great." Sirius found herself rambling as Remus regarded her with an amused smirk.

"Thanks," Remus replied with a humble shrug, "I hope so." She began to walk away toward the canvas, then turned back to Sirius, asking with a note of hopefulness, "I guess I'll see you later then…you know, for the modeling." she added trying to sound casual. 

"Yeah, if the mistress hasn't killed me for being late," Sirius smiled weakly. Remus's laughter filled the hall, a sound Sirius found unexpectedly enchanting. She couldn't fathom why it felt so good to make this particular stranger laugh so genuinely.

Sirius watched Remus chuckle to herself all the way down the hall until she disappeared around the corner, evidently heading to her temporary studio. The brief encounter left Sirius feeling both dazed and exhilarated and she completely forgot where she was or what she was supposed to be doing until-

"-Black!" Sirius was jolted from her reverie by the sharp command. The ballet mistress's stern voice cut through the air. "You're late!"

[milessluvr]

—MY LOVEᰔ

—summary , Gwen Stacy and her long crush y/n went to stop a bank robbery when it went into a wonderful night.

—warnings , wlw gunshots robbery but just pure fluff

—note , my friend requested this on discord! if theirs anything wrong please message me I’ll try to fix it first ever short fluff story hope you enjoy!! ^^

you laid in bed, lost in the mellow flowing through your headphones, when suddenly noticed Gwen Stacy gracefully climbing through the window of your room. Dressed in her white Spider suit, she beckoned you with a smile and amused look. She wasn't really feeling like swinging through the city alone, so she immediately thought about you.

"Come on, lazy." whispered Gwen, to not let anyone hear her, except you. "Get out of bed. We're going to kick some criminals' butts."

“whoa whoa wait up!” you said putting on your spider suit.

"Good, you're ready told you a while." replied Gwen. "Now come on, theirs a bank robbery downtown " The two of you snuck out through the window. You headed through the city until you encountered a bank robbery. Gwen quickly started to swing from building to building.

you swings with her whisperering “jeez Gwen you gotten faster?” you said her fixing her mask.

"It's been a while now, since I became Spider-girl." Gwen replied casually. "Of course I got faster. Now follow my lead." With that, Gwen swang into the bank, and you heard panicked screams and gunshots.

You followed Gwen as she kicked the bank robbers butts. Soon enough, all robbers were on the ground, and the situation was under control. The two of you watched a group of police officers approaching you. Gwen looked a little uncomfortable. "The cops..."Gwen whispered.

you grabs Gwen hand and web sling away from the building wrapping a arm around Gwen’s waist “you okay?” you said worried

"I'm fine..." Gwen said. "But that was a close one." She looked into your eyes, and you noticed a nervous look in hers. "Why would you want to hold my hand?" she asked, curious.

you looked anyway quickly before she even blushed “too get anyway of course!”

"Oh..." said Gwen, blushing herself. She took a deep breath. "You look so cute in your suit." she added, looking at you lovingly. She then touched your cheek, smiling. She wanted to tell you something important, but wasn't sure if she should.

you face heated in a blush quickly stuttering a “thank you..”

"Can I tell you something, y/n?" Gwen asked, still touching your cheek. Her breath increased, and you could see that she wanted to tell you something of great important thing.

you sat down close to Gwen saying “yeah go ahead”

“I love you y/n.” Gwen said looking into your eyes.

She leaned closely to your lips, about to kiss you. But she stopped herself, realizing, that it probably wasn't the best moment for it. She blushed and looked away, still breathing fast. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it..." Gwen whispered.

Y/n grabbed her cheeks pulled in and kissed Gwen with full confidence

Gwen was surprised, and she closed her eyes. She kissed you back deeply and then looked at you, still blushing.

"I've loved you for such a long time, y/n," she whispered. "I didn't dare to confess my feelings, because I was afraid that you might not feel the same way."

She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "But I don't care anymore. I want to be with you."

You smiled happily with a huge smile on your face

Gwen still smiled, her cheeks being all red.

"We should hurry, before the police officers start to search for us," Gwen said after a moment.

"You know what? I think it's okay if we stay here for a while."

"I just want to be with you, y/n," Gwen smiled.

"So..." Gwen asked you. "May I kiss you again?"

you smiled more saying “yeah.. go ahead”

Gwen took a step to you and kissed you again, but this time longer, more passionate. You felt her tongue slowly pushing against your lips, and you both kissed each other deeply.

"I love you, y/n," Gwen said smiling. "I always will."

She looked at you lovingly and caressed your cheek. Her eyes glowed in the moonlight.

@buzzinn July 2023 ! please don’t copy or steal , likes nd reblogs r much appreciated ^^

[reaper2187]

Alexa bliss x wrestler female reader

The backstage area of the WWE arena was buzzing with activity as wrestlers and crew members moved about, preparing for the night's matches. The air was thick with anticipation, the crowd's excitement seeping through the walls and into the veins of every performer. Among the chaos, Y/N — known to the WWE Universe as the Reaper — leaned against a wall, quietly observing the flurry of activity around her. She was dressed in her usual ring gear: a black sports bra that showed off her muscular frame, cargo pants, and combat boots adorned with chains. A skull bandana wrapped around her arm, and her face bore the familiar skull markings that had become synonymous with her name.

Despite the frenzy around her, Y/N remained calm, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Her reputation as a fearsome and unyielding competitor preceded her, and most people kept a respectful distance. It wasn’t fear, exactly — though she knew she was intimidating — but rather an understanding that Y/N wasn’t the type to engage in casual conversation. She was all business, especially on a night like this.

Tonight, Y/N had her sights set on a match that had been brewing for weeks. She had been thrust into a rivalry with Alexa Bliss, one of WWE’s most enigmatic and unpredictable superstars. It had all started innocently enough, with Alexa making sly comments during one of Y/N’s promos, but it quickly escalated into something more sinister. Alexa’s mind games had always been her forte, but Y/N wasn’t easily shaken. Still, there was something about Alexa — the way she moved, the way she spoke — that got under Y/N’s skin in a way no one else ever had.

A part of Y/N respected Alexa for that. After all, it wasn’t often that someone could rattle the Reaper.

As Y/N continued to watch the backstage area, she felt a presence beside her. She didn’t need to look to know who it was; the air seemed to shift whenever Alexa was around. The smaller woman had a way of making herself known without saying a word.

“Ready for tonight?” Alexa’s voice was light, almost teasing, as she leaned against the wall beside Y/N, her blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting Alexa’s gaze with her own. “Always.”

Alexa smiled, a hint of something wicked playing at the corners of her lips. “Good. I like when you’re ready. It makes it more fun.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is to you? Fun?”

Alexa tilted her head, considering the question. “Maybe. But I think you’re having fun too, even if you won’t admit it.”

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as she studied Alexa. The truth was, there was something thrilling about this rivalry. Alexa was unpredictable, constantly keeping Y/N on her toes, and in a way, Y/N found herself looking forward to their encounters. But there was something deeper beneath the surface, something that Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on. Alexa wasn’t just trying to get under her skin — she was trying to get into her head.

And Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Be careful, Bliss,” Y/N finally said, her voice low and warning. “Playing with fire usually ends with someone getting burned.”

Alexa’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I like the heat.”

With that, she pushed off the wall and sauntered away, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

The match that night was nothing short of chaotic. The crowd was on their feet as Y/N and Alexa clashed in the ring, their styles contrasting in a way that made the match a spectacle to behold. Y/N’s brute strength and relentless aggression were met with Alexa’s cunning and agility. Every time Y/N thought she had the upper hand, Alexa would slip out of her grasp like smoke, delivering a swift kick or an unexpected counter that kept Y/N off balance.

But Y/N wasn’t one to be outdone. She powered through Alexa’s mind games, using her sheer force to wear down her opponent. The crowd roared as Y/N delivered a thunderous clothesline that sent Alexa crashing to the mat. For a moment, it seemed like Y/N had the match in hand.

But Alexa, ever resourceful, wasn’t finished yet. She played possum, waiting for Y/N to get too close before springing up and delivering a wicked DDT that stunned Y/N and brought the crowd to their feet.

The match raged on, both women pushing themselves to the limit. Alexa’s resilience surprised Y/N — she had underestimated just how tough the smaller woman could be. But Y/N was determined to end this once and for all. She hoisted Alexa onto her shoulders, preparing to deliver a move that would seal her victory.

But as she did, something unexpected happened.

Alexa, rather than struggling to escape, leaned in close, her breath hot against Y/N’s ear. “You’re stronger than I thought,” she whispered, her voice soft and almost… affectionate?

The words caught Y/N off guard, her grip faltering just enough for Alexa to slip free. Before Y/N could react, Alexa delivered a quick roll-up pin, using her momentum to catch Y/N off balance. The referee’s hand hit the mat three times before Y/N could break free.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the match, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Alexa’s music hit the speakers as she rolled out of the ring, a triumphant grin on her face. Y/N was left on her knees in the ring, a mix of frustration and confusion swirling in her mind.

Alexa had beaten her, but it wasn’t the loss that bothered Y/N. It was the way she had lost — the way Alexa had gotten inside her head at the last moment, just enough to throw her off her game.

As Y/N watched Alexa celebrate her victory on the ramp, a strange feeling settled in her chest. It wasn’t anger or resentment. It was something else, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to acknowledge.

But one thing was certain: this wasn’t over.

Backstage, Y/N paced the locker room, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and confusion. She was angry with herself for letting Alexa get the better of her, but more than that, she was unsettled by the emotions the match had stirred up. She wasn’t used to feeling this way — off-balance, uncertain. It wasn’t like her.

The door to the locker room creaked open, and Y/N stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing as Alexa Bliss stepped inside. The smaller woman closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a satisfied smile.

“You’re upset,” Alexa observed, her tone light but with an edge of something more.

“What do you want, Bliss?” Y/N’s voice was clipped, her patience running thin.

Alexa took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You seemed… bothered.”

Y/N clenched her fists, trying to keep her emotions in check. “What’s your game, Alexa? You’re always playing games. What’s this one?”

Alexa stopped in front of Y/N, close enough that Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from her. “Maybe I like playing games with you. Maybe I like seeing what makes you tick.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all this is? Another mind game?”

Alexa’s smile softened, and for the first time, Y/N saw something in her eyes that wasn’t mischief or cunning. It was something more genuine, something almost… vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” Alexa admitted, her voice quieter now. “You’re different, Y/N. You’re not like the others. You don’t scare easily, and you don’t fall for my tricks. It’s… intriguing.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the honesty in Alexa’s words. This wasn’t the Alexa Bliss she was used to. This was someone else, someone who was showing a side of herself that few people ever saw.

“What are you saying?” Y/N asked, her voice softer now, the anger from earlier dissipating.

“I’m saying that maybe I don’t want to just play games with you,” Alexa replied, her eyes searching Y/N’s face. “Maybe I want to know you. The real you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. This was uncharted territory for her. She was used to dealing with opponents, with threats, with battles. But this… this was something entirely different.

“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alexa hesitated, as if unsure of her own answer. “Because I see something in you. Something that I don’t see in anyone else. And maybe… maybe you see something in me too.”

Y/N was silent, her mind racing as she tried to process what was happening. She had never expected this, never imagined that she and Alexa would be standing here, having this conversation. But as she looked into Alexa’s eyes, she realized that maybe she had seen something in her all along. Something that had drawn her in, even when she didn’t want to admit it.

Slowly, almost tentatively, Y/N reached out and took Alexa’s hand. The smaller woman looked up at her, surprise and something else — hope, maybe — flickering in her eyes.

“I don’t know what this is,” Y/N said, her voice steady but gentle. “But I’m willing to find out.”

Alexa’s smile returned, softer this time, without the usual edge of mischief. She squeezed Y/N’s hand, a silent agreement passing between them.

“Me too,” Alexa whispered.

For a moment, they just stood there, hands intertwined, the weight of their unspoken agreement settling over them

. There was no need for words, no need for explanations. Whatever this was, it was real, and it was theirs to explore.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions for Y/N. She and Alexa didn’t talk about what had happened in the locker room, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. They were no longer just rivals in the ring; there was something deeper connecting them now.

Y/N found herself thinking about Alexa more often than she cared to admit. She thought about the way Alexa had looked at her, the vulnerability in her eyes that she usually kept hidden behind a mask of bravado. It made Y/N want to protect her, to keep that side of Alexa safe from the world.

But Y/N also knew that Alexa was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was tough, resilient, and sharp as a tack. It was one of the things Y/N admired most about her. Alexa didn’t need anyone to protect her — but Y/N couldn’t help wanting to.

Their interactions changed subtly. Alexa would seek her out backstage, sometimes just to talk, other times to share a quiet moment before their matches. Y/N found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t before, sharing pieces of herself that she had kept guarded for so long.

In the ring, their chemistry was undeniable. Their matches became even more intense, each move charged with a new kind of energy. The WWE Universe couldn’t get enough of it — the rivalry that had turned into something more, something no one had expected.

One night, after another grueling match, Y/N and Alexa found themselves alone in the locker room once again. They were both exhausted, sweat dripping from their bodies, but there was a sense of satisfaction in the air. They had pushed each other to the limit, and the crowd had loved every second of it.

Y/N sat on the bench, catching her breath as she peeled off her gloves. Alexa sat beside her, a small smile on her lips as she looked over at Y/N.

“You’re getting better,” Alexa teased, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “I might have to start trying harder.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “I could say the same about you. You keep me on my toes.”

Alexa’s smile softened, her gaze lingering on Y/N’s face. “I like that about you. You don’t let me get away with anything.”

Y/N looked over at her, their eyes meeting. There was something in the air between them, something that had been building for weeks. Neither of them moved, neither of them spoke, but the tension between them was palpable.

Finally, Alexa reached out, her hand resting on Y/N’s cheek. Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart pounding as she felt the warmth of Alexa’s touch.

“Y/N…” Alexa whispered, her voice barely audible.

Before Y/N could respond, Alexa closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to Y/N’s in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, Y/N froze, her mind reeling. But then, instinct took over, and she kissed Alexa back, her hand sliding to the back of Alexa’s neck, pulling her closer.

The kiss was slow, gentle, and filled with all the emotions they had been holding back. When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

“I didn’t expect this,” Y/N admitted, her voice rough with emotion.

“Neither did I,” Alexa replied, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s cheek. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Y/N smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Me too.”

They sat there for a moment longer, just holding each other, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. There was no need for words, no need to define what this was. It was enough that they were together, that they had found something real in the chaos of their lives.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt at peace.

The weeks that followed were a blur of matches, travel, and stolen moments between Y/N and Alexa. They kept their relationship private, not wanting to invite scrutiny or gossip from the rest of the roster. But when they were alone, away from the cameras and the fans, they were free to be themselves.

Y/N found herself falling for Alexa in a way she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just physical — though the attraction between them was undeniable. It was deeper than that, a connection that went beyond the ring. Alexa understood Y/N in a way that no one else did, and Y/N found herself opening up to her in ways she never had before.

They spent their free time together, talking about everything and nothing, sharing stories from their pasts, and dreaming about the future. Y/N had never imagined that she would find someone like Alexa, someone who could see past the tough exterior and understand the person beneath.

One night, after a particularly brutal match, they found themselves in Y/N’s hotel room, sitting on the bed, exhausted but content. Alexa was curled up beside Y/N, her head resting on Y/N’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined.

“I never thought I’d find this,” Y/N admitted, her voice quiet in the darkness. “Not in this business.”

Alexa looked up at her, her eyes soft and full of emotion. “Neither did I. But I’m glad we did.”

Y/N smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Alexa’s head. “Me too.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, the weight of the world slipping away as they held each other close. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she had found a place where she belonged — not just in the ring, but in Alexa’s arms.

And no matter what challenges the future might bring, Y/N knew they would face them together. Because they weren’t just rivals anymore — they were partners, in every sense of the word.

The Reaper had found her match, and she wasn’t letting go.

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter six

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . this isn’t proof read because between this and my uni work i’ve been staring at my laptop all day so my eyes are killing me, sorry! )

Mason's living room buzzed with the friendly banter and laughter as Y/N, Ben, Reece and Mason gathered for a night in. It had been a while since the four of them had spent time together casually, so they all found time for a night of takeaway pizza, beer and video games. The glow of the TV screen illuminated their faces, casting a warm ambiance across the room and the air was thick with the camaraderie of a makeshift FIFA tournament.  

Ben and Reece started them off, their thumbs dancing across the controllers in a fierce match. It was a close call, but Ben emerged victorious, celebrated with an exaggerated victory dance that drew laughs from the others. Up next was Y/N and Mason, it was no secret that Y/N wasn’t particularly skilled in FIFA, in comparison to Mason who had dedicated a large portion of his teenage years to the game. The game had started with Mason going one goal up in a matter of seconds, however once he had seen a look of subtle disappointment spread across her face, he very slightly adjusted his play, letting her take the win. She was more than taken aback when she secured an unexpected win and Mason's mock disappointment was met with Y/N's triumphant grin, and a knowing look passed between the man and his friends as they sussed out what he had done.  

As the next match kicked off between Ben and Y/N, the room echoed with a mix of playful taunts and infectious laughter. The game was fast-paced, and because Ben had no reason to let Y/N win; she quicky found herself trailing a few goals behind.  

“So, Y/N, when’s your next date with Max?” Reece asked her as she was trying and failing to stop her opponent from scoring once again.  

Ben, momentarily distracted from the game, swiveled his head in surprise, "Wait, you guys went on a date? Why am I always the last to know?" 

Mason remained silent, observing the situation and wishing that Reece hadn’t brought up Max. Y/N, with a nervous chuckle, downplayed the encounter, "It was just a casual thing. Next time, I promise to give you a heads-up, Ben." 

Reece, ever perceptive, probed further, "Any plans for a follow-up date?" 

Y/N sighed, an air of disappointment trailing her words “I don’t know, we wanted to do something but it's so hard with our schedules and being so far away. He’s in the UK this weekend but with the charity gala on Sunday I’m just swamped with stuff to do.” 

The sadness in Y/N’s eyes was unmissable to Mason and without a second thought he blurted out, "Why don't you invite him to the gala?" The suggestion hung in the air for a moment, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty. Reece shot him a subtle, questioning glance, recognizing the potential complications, but Mason's gaze was fixed on Y/N.  

A spark of hope flickered in Y/N's eyes, and she hesitated for a moment before responding, "You don't have to do that for me, Mason." 

Yet, Mason could see the excitement building in her, so he insisted, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Invite him. It'll be a good time." 

Y/N's response was a delighted squeal, and she abandoned the ongoing FIFA match with Ben to envelop Mason in a tight hug. Ben, interrupted mid-game, groaned theatrically, but Y/N didn’t even hear his complaints; too busy thanking her best friend. As she hugged Mason tightly, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him. Her joy was infectious, and he found solace in the simple act of having her in his arms. The comfort of their embrace was undeniable, a familiar feeling that stirred emotions he had grown accustomed to. 

Yet, beneath the surface, there lingered a bittersweet tinge. Mason couldn't ignore the slight disappointment that crept in when he realized it was the thought of Max that lit up Y/N's eyes so brilliantly. He cared for her deeply, and her happiness mattered more to him than anything, even if it meant setting aside his own desires. 

The evening past quicky, and soon the men found themselves alone, with Y/N going home to get an early night. The second she left though, Mason found himself getting whacked over the head semi-gently by Reece.  

“Ow man what the fuck was that?” he asked, completely baffled as to what he had done to make his friend do that.  

“Why the hell would you tell Y/N she can invite Max on Sunday?” Reece asked, before smacking his best friend around the head again. 

“Fuck ow stop that” Mason said pushing him away and sighing “I don't really know. She looked sad, disappointed, and I wanted to cheer her up. So, I suggested she invite Max to the gala. It's not a big deal." 

Reece, never one to let things slide, persisted. "You remember the last time you had to be around them together, right? And that was when they were just starting to get to know each other. Now, they've been on dates. How are you going to cope with that?" 

Mason waved off the concern, a forced nonchalance in his tone. "It had been a bad few days that weekend. I'll be fine now." 

Ben, chiming in with a touch of confusion, asked, "What's the problem? Y/N seems to really like Max. Isn't that a good thing? You can stop worrying about her liking you." 

Mason managed a half-smile, but there was a depth of complexity in his expression. "Yeah, exactly. That's why I suggested she invite him." Despite his words, a tinge of dejection lingered, and Reece caught on. There was something more beneath the surface, but he decided not to press further in front of Ben, though as they continued their evening, he couldn't shake the feeling that Mason's nonchalant demeanor masked a more profound turmoil. He silently resolved to keep a watchful eye on his friend, sensing there might be more to Mason's emotions than he was letting on. 

As Sunday approached, Y/N found herself immersed in a whirlwind of preparations for Mason's charity gala. The days leading up to the event were a blur of coordinating details, arranging decorations, and ensuring everything was in place. In the midst of her busy schedule, Y/N managed to invite Max, who enthusiastically accepted the invitation. 

However, as the day of the gala arrived and Y/N finally had a moment to breathe, a wave of anxiety and anticipation washed over her. The realization that she would see Max again, especially with Mason also present, brought a mix of nerves and excitement. The thought of navigating the evening with both men in attendance added an extra layer of complexity to her emotions. 

Mason, for his part, seemed to have reverted to his old self. Their interactions resumed a sense of normalcy, with one notable exception – the majority of their physical contact had faded away. Y/N understood the reasons behind this shift, but it still contributed to the charged atmosphere surrounding the gala 

As Y/N adorned herself in an elegant ballgown, Mason arrived to pick her up for the gala. The moment he laid eyes on her, he was utterly gobsmacked by her beauty. A quiet awe filled the space between them as he took in her appearance. 

Driving to the venue, Y/N attempted to focus on the logistical details of the event, discussing what needed to be done throughout the night. However, Mason interjected, informing her that she had the day off. He insisted that he could handle the responsibilities, emphasizing that she deserved to enjoy the evening without being burdened by work. 

Surprised by his gesture, Y/N questioned his decision, pointing out the multitude of tasks that required attention. Mason simply responded, "I've got it covered. You should spend the night with Max; it wouldn't be fair to bring him here and then have you running around all night." 

Grateful for his consideration, Y/N thanked him again, a genuine smile gracing her face. They stepped out of the car, and she couldn't resist giving Mason another appreciative hug before entering the venue. 

Max arrived shortly after in a tailored black suit, looking effortlessly sharp. Y/N couldn't help but notice just how good he looked as he kissed her on the cheek and complimented her appearance. They made their way to the table where Mason, Reece, Ben, and Ben's girlfriend were seated. Max greeted everyone with a warm smile, shaking hands with each person. Mason, determined to appear calm and collected, reciprocated the gesture with a firm handshake. 

As the night unfolded, the group engaged in lively conversation. Max, ever polite, directed his attention toward Mason, expressing genuine interest in the charity work he was involved in. Mason shared his longstanding commitment to Together for Short Lives, explaining that he had been supporting the organization since the early days of his football career. He emphasized his desire to give back and contribute to meaningful causes. Y/N chimed in, “Mason has always been so great with this stuff, I love working with someone who devotes so much time to helping people”. Mason, though modest, felt a surge of pride at Y/N's words, appreciating her admiration. 

Dinner was served, and the atmosphere around the table buzzed with conversation and laughter. Y/N and Max, engrossed in their own dialogue, spoke quietly, creating an intimate space between them amidst the lively ambiance of the event. Mason couldn't help but find his attention drawn toward them, curious about the nature of their conversation. He observed Max leaning in, whispering something that prompted Y/N's laughter. The sight of her hand resting casually on Max's biceps, the way she bit her bottom lip while looking at him, stirred a complex mix of emotions in Mason. It was an involuntary response to witnessing the dynamics between them. 

As Y/N and Max excused themselves to go to the bar, Mason's eyes followed their every move. He noticed Max's hand gently placed on the small of Y/N's back as they walked away. Reece, observing Mason's silent contemplation, sipped his whiskey, sensing the tension in the air. The quiet yet intense scrutiny Mason directed toward Y/N and Max didn't go unnoticed. At the bar, Mason watched with an almost laser-like focus as Y/N leaned in, whispering something to Max. The image of her cherry-red lips grazing Max's skin lingered in Mason's mind, leaving an imprint that he couldn't quite shake. 

Y/N, however, was far too wrapped up in Max’s company to notice Mason’s lingering gazes. Any anxiety that she had that things between them would be awkward after she ran away from their date was quickly proved wrong, with the pair of them seemingly only getting closer. 

“Have a mentioned how beautiful you look tonight Y/N” he whispered in her ear, prompting a small giggle to escape from her lips. 

“Oh, only a few dozen times I think” she feigned uninterest before breaking into giggles, resting her head on the Deutchmans shoulder beside her; suddenly feeling herself becoming very flustered.  

"Do you want to step outside for a bit? It's a bit crowded in there." 

Max agreed, and Y/N slipped her hand into his as they strolled away from the lively gala. They found a quiet bench under the stars and sat down, the ambient sounds of the night surrounding them. 

"Thank you for inviting me," Max said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've had a lot of fun with you tonight." 

Y/N smiled warmly. "I've had a great time too. I just wish we could see each other more." 

Max's eyes sparkled as he responded, "I'm racing in Austria next week, I’d love for you to come along. And, I know you said you want to take things slow and I respect that, but you know, the offer to take you to Monaco is always open." 

His words hung in the air, and Y/N found herself looking at him, drawn in by the magnetic connection between them. Before she could process her own actions, an unexpected surge of courage propelled her forward. Without a second thought, she leaned in, capturing Max's lips with hers. The kiss was a revelation, a moment suspended in time. Y/N felt a gentle warmth spreading through her, a tender acknowledgment of shared feelings. Max's lips were soft against hers, and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet corner under the stars. 

For Y/N, the kiss was nothing short of magic. It was a sweet exploration of a newfound connection, a silent affirmation of the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other, and when Max deepened the kiss Y/N saw stars. As they pulled away, she couldn't help but marvel at the enchantment of that stolen moment, leaving her heart fluttering with anticipation. She had never had a kiss like that before, there was so much passion and chemistry it left her feeling a little dumbfounded.  

The gala resumed its vibrant atmosphere as Y/N and Max returned, smiles adorning their faces. Unbeknownst to them, Mason's eyes were fixed on the faint smudge of red lipstick around Max's mouth. His attempt to remain calm was futile as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within him. 

Max and Y/N rejoined the table, the shared moment still lingering between them. Mason, increasingly agitated, couldn't shake the unsettling sight before him. The barely-there mark on Max's face became a glaring symbol of something he couldn't fully comprehend. 

Unable to contain the whirlwind of emotions, Mason downed the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp before abruptly standing up, his chair scraping against the floor. He mumbled something about needing a moment and hastily excused himself from the table. The others exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what had transpired. Y/N, sensing that something was wrong with her best friend, began to stand up, but Reece, ever perceptive, also rose from his seat. He looked at Y/N and asked, "Mind if I go see if he's okay? I think he might need a moment." 

Y/N nodded, still puzzled, and watched as Reece followed Mason out of the gala. The atmosphere at the table became tense, shrouded in uncertainty, as they all wondered what had just occurred. 

Reece stepped out into the cool night, his eyes scanning the surroundings until he spotted Mason pacing in a corner, his hands running through his hair in a display of frustration and turmoil. The sight was disconcerting, and Reece quickened his pace. 

As he approached, he noticed the raw emotion etched on Mason's face, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. It looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Reece could sense that something profound was troubling his friend. 

"You were right," Mason's voice cracked, his eyes desperately searching for some semblance of understanding. Reece furrowed his brows, concerned about the depth of Mason's distress. 

"I was right about what? What's going on, Mase?" Reece inquired; his voice laced with worry. 

Mason, unable to contain the storm of emotions within him, continued to pace, his fists clenched in frustration. "I can't watch him all over her, I can't. I fucking love her, mate, and I don't know what to do. I pushed her away; I pushed her into him. I was scared, and I panicked, and I've ruined everything." 

Reece felt a wave of shock wash over him. Mason's raw confession about his feelings for Y/N was unexpected, and it left him grappling with the weight of his friend's emotional turmoil. As much as Reece wanted to comfort his friend his frustration surged to the surface as he spoke, a mix of concern and disappointment evident in his voice. "Mase, I don't want to be harsh, but you've got to get your act together," he urged, his eyes piercing through the darkness. 

Mason, taken aback by Reece's directness, listened intently, unsure of what was about to unfold. 

"You treated Y/N so unfairly when you found out about how she felt. You pushed her away, and it broke her," Reece continued, his tone unwavering. "She loved you, and you found out, told her she ruined everything. She would never tell you this, but that broke her." 

Mason's expression shifted from surprise to a dawning realization of the impact of his actions. 

Reece, not mincing words, pressed on. "If she's found somebody that makes her happy, then if you're her friend, if you really care about her, then you will shut your mouth and not tell her any of this. It's not fair. I know you've known her longer than me, but anyone can see that she is the sweetest girl in the world. And no matter what or who comes along, she will always love you. She deserves to be happy, and if Max makes her happy, then let her be happy with him. Don't confuse her with your feelings, not now. Not after what you did." 

The weight of Reece's words hung in the air, and before Before Mason could respond to Reece's blunt but necessary words, Y/N and Max approached, their entwined hands a visual testament to the complexity of Mason's emotions. “Hey guys, I think we’re going to head off if tha-” she started before  

observing the tension etched across Mason's face, and immediately picking up on the strained atmosphere. Her concern seeped into her voice as she inquired, "What's going on, guys?" 

Mason hesitated, teetering on the edge of transparency. His gaze flitted between Y/N and Reece, contemplating whether to lay bare his inner turmoil. However, as he looked at Y/N standing beside Max, Reece's earlier counsel echoed in his mind. He realized that now wasn't the time to burden her with his feelings. 

A forced smile appeared on Mason's face as he replied, "Everything's perfectly fine." Y/N, unconvinced, began to ask again, but Mason, interrupting her, expressed gratitude, "Thank you both for coming. Max, your generous donation means a lot. It was lovely to see you again." 

Y/N's perceptive eyes searched Mason's face, detecting something amiss. However, Reece subtly signaled to let it go. With a parting goodbye, Y/N walked away with Max's arm around her waist. 

Mason watched them leave, the internal struggle vivid on his face. The desire to run after her and ask her to stay battled with the understanding that letting her find happiness, even if it wasn't with him, was the right thing to do. 

Max navigated the city streets, his fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel as he drove Y/N back to her apartment. The car's interior cocooned them in a tranquil atmosphere, the hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the radio. As they merged into traffic, Max couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. "Mason seemed really bothered by something tonight," he remarked, glancing at Y/N. She nodded, her brow furrowed with concern. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm really worried," she admitted. 

Reaching over, Max placed a reassuring hand on Y/N's thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he'll figure things out. Sometimes, it just takes time," he offered, his gaze returning to the road. 

The rest of the drive continued in comfortable silence. Eventually, as the city lights painted a picturesque backdrop, Y/N broke the quiet with a nervous giggle. "I think I would like to come to Monaco with you at some point, if that's still up for grabs." 

A broad grin stretched across Max's face. "Of course, it is, I’d love that" he replied, his eyes briefly meeting hers. 

When they arrived at her apartment, Max, displaying a gentlemanly gesture, asked if he could walk her up to her door to ensure she got in safely. Y/N agreed, and they strolled together through the dimly lit corridor. Upon reaching her door, the ambiance shifted. Max leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle kiss. Y/N’s hands reach up the back of his neck, her fingers lacing themselves in Max’s hair as their lips moved against each other. Their connection lingered for a moment before they pulled away, breaths slightly labored as Max rested his forehead against hers.  

“Do you want to come in?” 

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