#but I felt her feeling her dreams so close

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x commentator!reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[m0nnypie]

DREAMER

Warning: smut, sex dream, oral sex (m), profanity, MDNI, +18, characters in yours 20's, degradation

Synopsis: He always captured you, no matter how many times you escaped from prison. But for the first time, you decided to try something different, what if you invaded the dream of the one who torments you the most?

Words: 1.4k

You felt like vomiting with the force he put his boot on your stomach. He always did this, blow you away for a few minutes, then pin you to the floor or the wall, and humiliate you in the worst ways, until it was time to arrest you.

“What’s wrong? Are you going to cry? Jeez… you’re so useless that you’re not even fit to be a villain..” he looked at you with disdain.

“Egh.. You disgust me”

“F-fuck you” you tried to get his foot off you, but he was strong. You might be smart, and even have an interesting quirk, but when it came to physical strength, especially compared to the #2 hero, you lost.

It didn’t take long for the police to arrive, and take you where you belonged, according to the arrogant blond.

But this time things would be different, running away would be too easy. Sometimes you wonder if you're stupid or just dumb, because in all this time you've never thought of invading his dream. Because, like your grandma used to say, dreams are storytellers.

Well, you were about to tell the world a great story about what an incredible hero Dynamight was.

It had been a while since you last entered someone's dream. Not that you hated it, but most people thought using your Quirk was useless, so you rarely used it.

But who would have thought that you would use your beloved Quirk with the one who tormented you the most, the one you wished was dead?

The bad part was that the way you entered dreams depended a lot on the person. You'd seen some that were bridges to cross, others were doors, some were more interesting, like a fast balloon ride. You wondered what the blond one would be like.

After searching a lot, you found it. It was a door, a simple wooden door. You thought it was funny, you imagined that the way he was, it would be something grand, just like his ego.

As soon as you opened the door, you entered something that was probably his house. It was very beautiful and cozy. There were pictures of family and friends scattered around the house, one that caught your attention was of him next to a boy with green hair. It was cute.

You found the silence strange, you imagined that even in his dreams it would be noisy, but you couldn't even find it him. You wandered around the house for a few minutes, too busy to notice the noises coming from the room.

You only noticed the strange sounds when you were already in front of the door. You carefully opened the door, and when you looked into the room, you froze.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, moaning nonsense. And crouched in front of him, there was you, sucking him with devotion. My God. He was having an erotic dream about you.

You closed the door quickly. You didn't want him to notice your presence. You started running towards the exit, thinking that you should never have entered his dream. But something made you stop.

What if... maybe, you took advantage of this moment? I mean, what would be the problem? There's nothing wrong, you'd just be making his dream a little more realistic...

So you slowly walked back to the room, thinking seriously about what you were about to do.

You entered the room confidently. But your confidence died as soon as you looked at your dream version, who was looking at you while sucking the blond, as if you was making fun of you.

You were lucky that he was so focused on the pleasure that he didn't even notice you approaching. You quickly made your dream version disappear, putting yourself in her place. Your nervousness was eating you alive, and if he noticed? No, he wouldn't be able to.

As soon as he didn't feel anything around his own cock, he opened his eyes. Those damn red eyes, so deep, that they pulled you into an endless abyss, from which you would never want to leave.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop? Is my cock too much for you to handle?"

You could feel the shame rising in your cheeks. Letting out a moan when you felt him pulling your head back, with his hand tangled in your hair.

He looked at you from above, almost with disdain. And that, for some reason, made you very wet, making you squeeze your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the sensation that consumed you.

"Poor thing, you're so useless that you're not even good enough for a blowjob... do you need help, bitch?" You could feel him pulling on your hair, which made involuntary moans come out of your mouth.

“Y-yes…please” you felt like you were capable of going crazy with this, the way he looked at you, and how he pulled your hair hard, but without hurting. Fuck, it made you lose any shred of sanity

“This is so embarrassing for you, I almost feel sorry for you…but then I remember what a little slut you really are.” He ran his finger over your lips, then stuck his finger in your mouth, telling you to suck it, even without saying any words.

You practically flooded his hand with your drool, you could feel your pussy vibrating every time you sucked his finger hard, you were pathetic, so ridiculous. You let out a moan when you felt him take his finger out of your mouth. He looked at you as if he felt sorry for you, showing you how pathetic you were.

“You really are such a little bitch, am I going to have to do all the work?” He pulled your head back, holding it for a few seconds before telling you to put his cock in your mouth.

It was huge, it was hard not to choke on every inch that filled your mouth. As soon as he felt it enter halfway, he lowered your head hard, making his cock enter the back of your throat. Making you choke and tears come out of your eyes.

He left you like that for a while, until he felt you grip his thigh because you were having trouble breathing. But he barely gave you time to relax, he quickly started to move your head up and down, while holding you by your ponytail.

You drooled all over his length, taking advantage of the fact that there was no way out, to rub your rough tongue on his cock, and lightly scrape your teeth. This made him moan a little, he wasn't very vocal, how sad you thought. You would love to hear him moan, while he had his cock in your mouth.

In a few minutes he left the movements completely to you, too overcome by pleasure to dare to make any effort. You stuck it all the way down your throat, licking the entire length, releasing your drool along the way, to make it easier every time you put it in your mouth.

You felt his veins pop out, showing that he was close to cumming. Then you started sucking his pink head, while you masturbated the rest of his length with your hand.

Within seconds, he came. You looked at him, flooded with lust, as you swallowed his sperm and cleaned up what had leaked.

“This is just the beginning, you hear me, my little slut?” He held your face, squeezing your cheeks with one hand.

“Yes…” you were overcome with lust, making nothing else cross your mind, other than the enormous desire for him to stick his huge cock inside you and fuck you until you forgot your own name.

Before you could decide anything, he pulled you up, throwing you on the bed. And something you didn’t expect at all happened. He kissed you.

His tongue dominated yours. It was a hot, quick, lustful kiss, taking all the air from your lungs. With the separation, you moaned in frustration.

But soon smiled when you felt him rip your shirt. His hands squeezed your breasts tightly, if it weren't for the immense pleasure, you would probably complain about the pain.

He didn't give you much time before ripping off your shorts and panties. Leaving you now, naked and completely at his mercy. You could see the treacherous smile that formed on his face.

You felt him turn you brutally onto your back, bringing your arms back and holding them. You felt him get closer, his mouth at your ear as he nibbled on your earlobe. His hair tickled. That thought made you laugh.

"Do you think this funny? When I fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own name, I wanna see if you'll laugh."

Oh, yes. This would be a hard night, very hard and fun.

If y'all like, I do pt 2! 😭 Pls reblog or gimme some like or coment, wanna know what u think. 🤌🏻 'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH, ITS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE 😭

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 7

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; mentions of therapy/counseling; a jealous and worried Ghost; violence; brief sexual scene (18+)

Read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

The chair felt weird. Hard and cold... just like the darkened room you found yourself in. You glanced around, only to see darkness except for a plush bed in front of you. It glowed from the moonlight that illuminated the cover and pillows through the window behind. Where the hell were you?

"C'mere darlin'," a voice called out.

You knew that voice. Simon. It was strange though. You heard him but couldn't see him anywhere.

"Simon?" you called out, glancing around yourself once more.

He hummed, telling you to come to him once more.

You attempted to stand up from the chair, but something was wrong. Your legs didn't move; you couldn't move. You tried again to get up, but it felt like your skin was glued to the chair. What was wrong with your legs?

"I'm coming," another voice playfully said. The high-pitched tone making you snap your head up as you heard soft footsteps get closer to the room.

The one person you never wanted to see stepped closer to the bed, before laying on it, giggling as she propped herself up on her elbows. She was naked, her body slightly glistening in the moonlight. She was looking at whatever was in the corner of the room. Or at least it looked like it was the corner. You couldn't see anything but her.

A heavy set of soft footsteps was heard before the broad stature of your husband walked up to the bed... naked. He was hard, eyes glancing down the woman's body. His mask was discarded as he looked at her waiting for him. Your eyes widened as you looked at him; your body attempted to move once more.

"S-Simon," you called out for your husband.

His eyes didn't look toward you. It was like he couldn't see you sitting there. Instead, he knelt on the bed, hovering over the woman for a second before closing the gap to kiss her. Your eyes shut tight as you glanced down at your hands in your lap. Fuck you needed to get out of there. You grunted as you wiggled your body so forcefully you almost thought you'd topple to the side on the floor.

A breathy moan made you look up, and god you wanted to claw your eyes out. Positions changed, Simon's body was behind her as she was on her hands and knees. How did you not hear them move?

"Simon please," you whispered, not even realizing you were crying.

You sucked in a breath when green eyes looked at you; her eyes. A deeper frown formed on your face as she smirked at you before moaning for Simon to go harder. And he did. His large hand pushed her head down on the mattress, causing her hands to give way as her chest touched the sheets below. She turned her head to the side, eyes cutting away from yours, but that didn't make it any better. The thick groan that left his lips when he fucked her harder made you sob. They were fucking right in front of you and you couldn't stop it.

Simon leaned forward, trapping her down with his wide chest as he grabbed her jaw and forced her to look back up at you. "Eyes up yeah? Want her to see how good I make you feel," he said between groans as his eyes locked directly on yours.

His thrusts didn't stop, making her moan louder as they both looked at your teary face. A knowing look in both of their eyes as you tried to cover your face with your hands.. only to find they were stuck to your side.

Your body lurched as your eyes snapped open. The nightmare slowly fading away from your vision as you woke up. It was only a nightmare.... even if it felt so fucking real.

With a shaky groan, you sat up and glanced to find Simon's side of the bed empty. He had gone to work already. You knew this. But waking up from that dream made you wish he was still asleep, still there with you.

Would you ever get over what was spiraling between you and him?

Pushing all thoughts away of the dream in your mind about Simon and her, you got up and headed to the bathroom, opting to take a cold shower as a distraction. You glanced down at the floor, remembering you discarded the dress you wore the night before next to the ensuite. But it wasn't there.

Huh?

You weren't drunk. You specifically remember taking it off before finding your way to bed. But now it was gone. You walked into the closet, quickly looking in the laundry to find the item scrunched on top of the other clothes that needed to be washed. Simon had picked it up when he got in from work last night.

************************************************************************

After your individual counseling session with the chaplain, you didn't want to go to work. You wanted to go back home instead, but your boss had been such a patient and understanding person with being flexible when you needed to attend therapy.

But you couldn't go back to work just yet, either. Simon had texted you earlier, asking again for you two to get lunch together. You almost told him no, but with the dream still lingering in the back of your head - even with talking about it in therapy - you agreed. So there he was, waiting for you in the lobby as you walked out.

He was wearing his skull-printed balaclava, and no eyeblack covered the skin around his eyes. But he looked just as exhausted as you felt. Possibly even nervous. Although the crinkle of his eyes let you know he was at least smiling a bit under the mask.

"Look beautiful, sweetheart," he whispered.

The butterfly feeling in your stomach and the slight blush on your cheeks betrayed your mind. Why did his words mean so much?

Simon recommended a small restaurant on base where soldiers usually went to grab a bite to eat. It was nice; nothing to feel like you were overdressed for... except you did. The moment you and Simon walked in, you saw the bustling soldiers either sitting at tables talking loudly or standing in line to order food. Even though a few individuals had on regular clothes, you pretty much were the only woman in there with heels on.

You tried to ignore the stares from some of them. Whether they were staring at you because of what you had on or because of the man standing next to you, you couldn't be sure. But it made your pulse quicken with slight anxiety. Even when you stood at the counter to place your order, the young cashier glanced at you, then at Simon, then back to you like he was going to burst from anxiety himself.

"We'll bring your food out when it's ready," he said after he swiped Simon's card and gave it back to him.

Your husband nodded before guiding you to a table near the back, away from the loudness of the restaurant. You internally thanked him because you needed some privacy; it was the first time in a while since you two really sat down together to eat.. especially in public.

And now you were at his job... on base... surrounded by other soldiers and personnel... eating lunch.

Simon's eyes bounced over your face from your lips to your hair before settling on your eyes. You tried looking at the people walking around or the salt shaker on the table, but the silence coming from him was making you fidget in your seat. A quick sigh left your lips before you finally locked eyes with his.

"How'd therapy go?" he asked.

You shrugged, fighting to roll your eyes, "Fine."

He paused briefly, "Still gonna go while I'm gone?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Why wouldn't i?"

A worker brought your food to the table, pausing your conversation briefly as she set the tray down. You shot a quick smile to her in thanks before she rushed off to the next table.

It was his turn to shrug a little, glancing down at the table before meeting your eyes again, "We haven't exactly been communicating much. Wanna make sure you still wanna work through this."

The dream quickly floated through your mind, making you look at the table again. "Simon-"

"And that y'won't leave me. Not while I'm gone...... or do somethin'" Your eyes snapped up, seeing him somewhat in deep thought.

When he glanced down past your neck, landing his vision on your shirt, you felt a swirl of emotions run through you. "What are you talking about?"

Even with the mask on, you saw his throat bob as he swallowed the lump in it, "Last night?"

You would have burst out laughing if you weren't on edge already.. and not surrounded by so many eyes.

Of course, you knew Johnny told Simon where you were. They were considered best friends, after all. But was he really worried about you leaving him? No. Doing something to hurt him? Of course, he was. As soon as Price dismissed them, he all but sped home to you. He hoped that you would be awake, as it was only just after 11pm when he got there, but you weren't. Instead, he found your sleeping form curled under the sheets and your dress left by the door of the ensuite. When he picked it up and looked at it, his heart could have dropped to his stomach.

The low v-cut almost stopped in the middle of where your chest would be. And that it did. Simon could only imagine how it really looked on you, and he felt conflicting emotions cloud his mind. He wanted to rip the fucking dress up and throw it in the trash. He also wanted to wake you up just to ask you to put it back on so he admired how fucking sexy you'd look in it. If he thought that, he could only worry about what anybody else thought when they saw you.

"I had drinks with Ava and her sister," you replied, the annoyance in your voice making him internally cringe. He didn't want to upset you. "So what? You have your friends keeping tabs on me now?" You couldn't help it, your voice raised a little.

"Sweetheart no. Please just listen-"

Realizing that you didn't need anyone hearing your conversation, you lowered your voice, "I'm not the one who comes home late all the time."

"I told you, she's gone, sweetheart. She's not here anymore," Desperation running through his voice.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose to stop the oncoming headache, "Simon we shouldn't be talking about this here," you changed the subject before things got more complicated, "Still leaving tomorrow?"

He reluctantly nodded. He knew you were right, but he wanted to talk. He wanted to know what you were thinking... really thinking. "I'll be home early tonight. We leave out at 3am tomorrow."

"Okay."

Things were a bit awkward after that as you ate your food. From a distance, it just looked weird - you sitting there eating while Simon's gaze was on you. But it wasn't at all. Your husband rarely ate in public, and he wasn't about to start now with other soldiers around him. You ended up subtly stuffing your face so you'd hurry up and get out of there.

************************************************************************

It was 2:30 in the morning when Simon quietly kneeled down on the floor on your side of the bed. You were fast asleep, a tiny snore leaving your lips every few moments. The light from the hallway provided enough brightness for him to see your face. You looked beautiful, even with a strand of hair resting across your nose. His gloved forefinger softly brushed it behind your ear as he continued to look at you; to memorize you.

He was leaving for his mission. That wasn't shocking. He'd been doing this before he even met you, and he continued even when you got married. But this time, it was different. You were different. Would you go out with Ava while he was gone? Would you wear another one of those revealing dresses? Would you leave him?

You couldn't. He didn't want that. And he tried to convey those feelings to you again as he climbed into bed a few hours earlier. Anyone else would have thought it was childish... you two didn't cuddle, but he softly clasped your hand into his as he fell asleep. But even with your eyes closed - pretending to be tired and sleepy, you let him be. Deep down, you didn't want him to go either.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered before leaning in and giving you a loving yet quick kiss on your cheek.

When he made it on base, the other three members of Taskforce 141, along with two units of marine soldiers, were moving around, either packing the Humvees or putting on their tactical vests. Simon eventually made his way to the armory, where he double-checked to make sure he had everything he needed. He stuffed a few extra magazines in the pockets of his bags, but when one of them seemed to have an issue sliding all the way in, he frowned. Something was stopping it. He emptied the pocket, trying to see what was already in there when he pulled out a paper that was folded several times.

Huh?

Unfolding it, he was half expecting it to have been evidence from the previous mission that he forgot to give to Price. What he wasn't expecting was a note....... from you.

Simon, I know it's been hard between us since I found out about what you did. It's been killing me inside honestly. I never thought you'd hurt me. That you'd hurt us like this. My husband who I married because I fell madly in love with hurt me to the point where I don't even know what to do anymore. A part of me fights every day with myself because I know I should leave. I should let you be happy. I feel like you were happy being with her. You don't love me. I don't know if you ever did. To this day I don't know why you want to be me. But I also don't know why I want to be with you. But I do. I still love you even though you stomped all over my heart. You broke my trust so much. I started going to therapy because you said you would give me the divorce papers but I'm going because I want us to get through this. And I'm such an idiot for it. Please be safe when you're gone yeah? I'm so scared about you leaving this time. I'm honestly terrified. I'll be here when you get back. I love you xx

Simon's heart could have broken in two at that moment if he didn't have to think about heading out to the Humvee in a few minutes. Broken because he fucking smiled cause you said you'd be there when he got back, but broken because he didn't like the fact you felt it was wrong to still want to be with him. He was the idiot.. not you. He fucked up and he would be paying for that for the rest of his life. But he would gladly do it to save his marriage.

More suffering is going to come. Simon hasn't made it his crazy... possessive moment yet lol!

Feedback welcome as always 🙃

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @5starbullshittery @azazel-nyx @firefoxkairan @devonsworld @theclassicvinyldragon

[xlovellydreams]

Reuniting 2

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Summary: Reuniting with Rhysand after Under the Mountain

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ Words Count: 6.1k

˚˙⋆.☾.✮.˙˚ PART 1

Note: Hi guys! Let me say – Thank you so so so so much! I did not expect so much love under my first post, so again, thank you so much!!! Here is part two!

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

He sat in the bath for what felt like hours. The water was hot. Scorching hot. But it felt good.

His skin was still tingling from the feeling of your touch and his body ached at the loss of your presence after holding you for so long. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily.

Gods, he was losing his mind. Fifty years had clearly not been kind to him.

Fifty years of being Amarantha’s plaything. Fifty years of being forced into submission. Fifty years of watching her, listening to her, touching her.

Fifty years without you. Not having you, not holding you, not being able to listen to you sing or hear your laugh.

Fifty years of her touch, fifty years of her voice. Of being forced to satisfy her. Of being her whore.

Fifty years without you, his mate.

Rhysand didn’t open his eyes again, just exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself. To push the thoughts of that woman from his mind.

He was home. He was free. She wasn’t here.

You were.

He scrubbed every inch of his skin. Trying to get all the traces of her away from him. He wanted her scent gone, wanted to smell like himself, like you. Reaching for the sweet-smelling body wash you always liked so much, he rubbed it against his skin.

For fifty years, all he’d think about every waking moment was you. Your face, your laughter, your smile, your soft touch, your scent. He had clung on to the memory of you, just to keep himself sane. Just to keep himself alive.

Gods, he was tired. So, so tired.

He pushed that thought away for now. He couldn’t give in to his exhaustion yet. Not when his family was waiting for him, downstairs. And most importantly, not when he owed you a kiss.

A kiss. So much more than just a kiss. He needed to kiss every inch of you, worship your whole body, hold you, touch you. He needed to feel you in his mind again, to be connected with you in every possible way.

Rhysand stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, using it to furiously dry his skin. He looked better, that was for sure, but he still looked worn and tired. Grabbing a pair of dark pants and a shirt, quickly threw them on. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get the unruly locks to stay down. Once his hair was somewhat in order he took another look in the mirror. Deep down he still felt dirty and definitely not convinced that he looked anywhere near presentable. His skin was paler than usual, looking almost sickly in comparison to before he went to Amarantha. He looked like he could benefit from another fifty years in bed.

Rhys felt almost hesitant as he left the bathroom and stepped back into his bedroom. A small part of him was scared that this whole day had just been a dream. That he’d get back into the bedroom and find it empty, or worse, find that witch there. Deep down he was so damn afraid that it is just a nightmare. Another horrible nightmare.

But then he smelt you.

His shoulders immediately relaxed a bit when the scent of you hit his nose. He immediately knew you were still here, waiting for him.

A second later he heard your laughter from downstairs. Rhys smiled at the sound of your laugh, that beautiful, sweet, sweet sound. The idea of seeing you with his family, his Inner Circle made his heart fill with warmth. It just felt right.

𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 ⟡ ☾ ⟡ 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃 𓂃

The Inner Circle was sitting around the table, as you brought another warm dish, wine already poured in every glass. “Just, don’t overwhelm him too much,” you said, mostly to Cassian, knowing he would be the first to throw punches.

Cassian let out a scoff as he heard you say that. He was already bouncing his leg impatiently, fidgeting eagerly in his seat.

Azriel sat silently, seemingly calm but with a hint of worry in his eyes. He, like Cassian, also seemed eager to see his High Lord, to see his brother after fifty years.

Meanwhile, Amren was quietly sipping on a glass of whatever was in it, seemingly unimpressed. Mor on the other hand was already reaching for another bottle of wine, clearly nervous.

Cassian let out a scoff at your words. “Who, me?” he asked, as if insulted by the fact that you would suggest he would ever do that.

“Don’t pretend as if you wouldn’t be the first one to go and tackle him” Azriel let out a small snort.

“I just want to give him the greeting he deserves!” protested Cassian, his arms out in the air.

Azriel let out another small scoff, clearly not very convinced. “That doesn’t mean you have to literally tackle him to the ground as soon as you see him, Cass.”

“You two behave” you glared at both Cassian and Azriel. “I am being serious here, give him space, as much as he needs.”

That was the main reason you told him to relax in the bath. The main reason you did not kiss him more. He still had his shields up, not letting you in. You had no idea what he had been through and all you wanted, was to respect his boundaries. Give him the space to breathe, and move around freely.

You wanted him to remember, that it was all over.

That he was home.

Both Cassian and Azriel fell silent at your glare. It was clear that you’d have no problem telling them off if they made any unwanted, unnecessary, or overdone gestures toward Rhysand. And the last thing either of them wanted was to upset you.

They both looked down silently, mumbling out a quick “yes ma’am” as if they were scolded children. Nothing new.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs drew everyone’s attention, and the air in the room suddenly became thick and tense with anticipation.

Rhysand finally appeared at the door, his eyes darting around the room. He took a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. The table, filled with his favourite foods, his family sitting around it all looking absolutely stunned to see him there in the doorway, alive and well.

No one spoke, everyone was silent, all eyes on him. It was as if they were all too scared to say something, as if they didn’t quite believe that he was truly standing there.

Like one wrong move, and everything would be gone.

Rhysand’s eyes landed on you, standing in the corner. Alive, safe, and unharmed, he thought.

And then, by some weird instinct, you reached, taking the hot soup out of the way, the same moment Cassian stood up, shaking the whole table, already charging at Rhys.

You rolled your eyes, groaning at that.

The movement of Cassian standing up immediately caught Rhysand’s attention. He knew his brother well, and by now, he knew what was coming. Cassian was out of his seat, and charging at him within seconds. And all Rhysand could do was brace himself for impact.

The impact came soon, and Rhys suddenly found his arms full with his massive, buff-ass brother. Cassian slammed into him so heavily, tackling him to the ground. His breath was knocked from his lungs and he let out a groan as his back hit the hard, wooden floor. The other Illyrian was on top of him, pinning him into place. Cassian’s chest heaved with emotion. A strange mixture of anger, worry, and relief.

“Get off!” Rhys forced out, pushing at his brother. But Cass was stronger than him and was sitting firmly on his chest.

“I’m just trying to give you a damn welcome,” he said with a huge grin on his face. “Fifty. Fifty years,” he breathed out, gripping Rhysand’s shirt tighter. “Fifty years you were gone.”

Rhysand felt his anger turn into guilt as he looked at his brother. He had known it would be hard on them when he was gone, when he was under her control, but seeing the pain in his eyes, knowing he was part of the reason for it made his heart ache.

He wanted to push Cassian off, to tell him to get a grip of himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Especially not when his brother spoke again.

“Fifty years of thinking we’d never see you again.”

Rhysand felt his heart ache more at Cassian’s words, his head was already spinning.

Fifty years. Fifty years he’d been forced to abandon his family. For fifty years he’d had to act as Amarantha’s whore. Fifty years of pretending to be anything other than free. Fifty years he had spent being tortured, and now he was here, finally here.

Finally home. Finally with his family again.

“Get off of me,” Rhysand grumbled. “You’re crushing me.” He looked up into Cassian’s hazel eyes, the pain behind them clear.

“Hell no,” retorted Cassian, not budging one bit. He was not moving away, not until he’d got that message through to Rhysand.

His breathing was coming out in short pants as he spoke. “How the hell do you think I feel? Fifty. Years. Fifty years I’ve had to deal with Az’s moodiness and Mor’s constant bitching, not to mention Amren. I nearly went insane, you prick.”

Rhys did not miss the tears that started building in his brother’s eyes.

“Cassian” you finally decided to chime in, your voice surprisingly soft. “Get up, food is still warm.”

Your soft but firm voice seemed to get through to him, and he slowly loosened his grip on Rhysand’s shirt. He stood up, not taking his eyes away from his brother, as if he was scared of him suddenly disappearing.

A second later, Rhysand was again a little overwhelmed as his family all stood up, wanting to hold him and hug him. But he allowed them to do so, knowing that they had needed this.

He needed this.

He felt Azriel’s hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly, as if making sure he was truly here. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight of Rhys. “Thank the Mother you’re back,” he said quietly, he pulled him into a hug, his embrace strong.

The second to reach him was Amren, who punched him on the shoulder, clearly trying to keep her facade of calmness together. But he could see the relief in her eyes.

Mor was the last one, hugging him so tightly he was certain she’d suffocate him. She was whispering something in his ear, and he could faintly hear the words, “I’m so sorry”. “Stop apologizing” he mumbled in her ear.

Rhysand felt overwhelmed with emotions. Seeing his family standing around him, holding him, squeezing him so tightly it was as if they were scared he’d disappear.

His eyes landed on you. Seeing you stare at everyone, at him, with a soft expression in your eyes, made his heart pang painfully, and all he wanted to do was to have you in his arms.

But he could wait, he reminded himself. He had waited fifty years, he could wait a few more hours.

Once everyone had finally released him, you gently pulled him to the table, and you all sat down.

Rhysand still couldn’t quite believe this. He was surrounded by his family, sitting down at a table filled with his favourite foods, and he had you with him.

It was so utterly surreal that he almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

You reached your hand for his under the table, and he immediately closed his fingers around yours. A simple touch. Rhysand’s body immediately relaxed. He let out a small breath, closing his eyes as he felt the familiar rush of comfort and calm he always felt whenever you touched him.

He gently stroked your skin with his thumb as he opened his eyes, turning to look at you.

“Good?” You whispered, only for him to hear, making sure he was alright.

Rhys felt a small thump in his chest. Gods, he was so in love with you. So in love with your soft, sweet voice whispering to him. So in love with the gentle concern in your tone. Still afraid of waking up suddenly, waking up with that red-haired monster.

Home. He was home. With his family. With you.

He let out another breath, feeling the last of his tension and stress drain out of him at your question. So he squeezed your hand slightly in response, a smile on his face. “Good,” he whispered back, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled more, nodding your head as you reached for a glass of wine. He leaned back in his chair, his hand still in yours, as he watched the banter go back and forth between everyone. Watching as they all ate some of his favourite foods. The rich, warm stew you had made, along with a variety of other dishes.

Rhys couldn’t believe he had been the luckiest bastard in Prythian. Getting to come back home and seeing you, his mate, still here, waiting for him. And he’d be damned if he didn’t make good on his promises.

HOURS LATER.

You laughed so loudly, so hard that a few tears rolled down your cheeks. Just because of one of Cassian’s stupid jokes. But you were laughing for the first time in forever. Rhysand couldn’t help but crack a small smile. It was so good to see you laughing again.

His body felt warm, full from all the food, and light after the many glasses of wine he had drank. But more than anything, he felt utterly at peace for the first time in fifty years. There were no responsibilities weighing him down, no Amarantha forcing him to perform. He was simply relaxing, at home with his family, like he should’ve been fifty years ago. There was still a small part of him that couldn’t believe it. A small part of him was scared this was all a dream, or just a hallucination, or something else, and that he’d be yanked back to the reality of Under The Mountain. But the feel of your soft hand on his shoulder, the sound of Amren’s amused scoff at one of Cassian’s jokes, it all felt so real, in a way that could only mean that this was, in fact, very much real.

A small yawn escaped his lips, and he quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t that the late hour was affecting him too much - he had been forced to stay up much, much later than this on multiple occasions - but rather that all the food and wine, the relaxed atmosphere, made him feel sleepy. He tried not to let it show, not wanting to break the relaxed mood, not wanting to go to bed.

“I’m glad you find it so entertaining,” came Cassian’s voice from the other side of the table, a pout clear on his face.

Rhysand snorted. “And I’m glad to see your sense of humor is still as bad as ever.”

You giggled softly, shaking your head, “Perhaps we should go and rest,” you said, of course noticing the tired look in his eyes. He felt a pang of affection in his chest as he heard your suggestion.

Of course, you would notice that he was tired, would worry even if he didn’t say anything. You were always so aware of his every need and emotion. And the last thing he wanted was to worry you.

He gave a small nod, a slight yawn escaping his lips.

“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” he said, giving you a small, tired smile.

The words had barely left his mouth before Cassian let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly not happy to hear the fun was over. “Gods, just go make out already,” he said, a suggestive smirk on his face. “We all know that’s all you two want to do tonight anyway.”

You blushed softly at his words, “Cassian!”

Rhysand let out another low chuckle as he saw you blush at Cassian’s words.  You were so cute, he thought. He missed seeing you blush.

Cassian let out a small huff at your reaction, his smirk growing bigger. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms behind his head, his wings relaxed behind him.

You groaned, looking up to Rhys. He noticed your gaze on him and immediately realised what you were thinking. He saw the blush on your face, and the pleading look in your eyes.

He then let out a huff and looked towards Cassian. “And on that wonderful note,” he said, “everyone out. Go find somewhere else to be for the night.”

He didn’t wait to see if they obeyed. Rhys gently took your hand and winnowed you both back to your bedroom. To the room, you couldn't bring yourself to be in for the last fifty years.

This was the same bedroom he hadn’t seen for fifty years. The same bed where you had both slept peacefully together for so many years. The same room where he had shared so many quiet, intimate moments with you.

His eyes scanned the room as he looked at everything, taking in how much it had stayed exactly the same. It was almost surprising just how much it reminded him of better times. He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar scent of you, of the room. It was all so incredibly you, and it made him feel so at home that his eyes fluttered shut for a moment in contentment.

You squeezed his hand gently, “It was so cold in here without you.”

Rhysand instantly felt his body tense at your words. “Don’t...” he breathed out, his eyes still closed. He didn’t want to hear about how cold the room had been, how cold and lonely you had felt. The mere thought of it twisted his gut unpleasantly, making his heart clench.

He forced himself to open his eyes, turning to look at you. Your eyes had grown slightly glassy as you spoke, the memories obviously fresh in your mind as he saw it. Your shields of course down and you were trying to push the thought of you lying in this cold and empty room away. Of you lying in bed every night, not getting sleep, not getting rest. How you only were able to stay in here for three days until it was too much.

He clenched his jaw as he spoke again, his voice quiet. “I don’t want to talk about how cold you were without me,” he said, reaching to your cheek. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to imagine you in here, missing me, needing me…” He took a small step closer, his eyes dark with something. “Just don’t, okay?”

“I am still mad” you admitted suddenly, looking up into his eyes.

A frown immediately appeared on Rhysand’s face. “Mad?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing. “You’re mad?” His tone of voice was almost dangerous, defensive almost. He was not in the mood to deal with his mate being mad at him. Not after everything he had just endured down under that mountain.

“Yes,” you said immediately. “I am mad.”

A small scoff left Rhysand’s mouth at your words. He stared at you, his expression hardening. “You’re mad? You’re mad at me?” he repeated, his voice raising now. Why in the world were you mad at him? He had just spent fifty years trapped in hell, being Amarantha’s toy. What right did you have to be mad at him?

“Did I say I am mad at you?” You whispered, tilting your head slightly.

Some of the anger in Rhysand’s expression faded as he realised his mistake, the meaning of your words finally hitting him. His shoulders relaxed slightly and he let out another breath, running a hand through his hair.

No, no you hadn’t said you were mad at him. You had just said you were mad. He blinked at you, almost feeling silly as he realised how easily he had let himself get worked up and angry.

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath as his heart rate slowed down. He let out a long breath. “Perhaps explain why you’re angry then?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“I am mad at myself” your voice barely above whisper, as you reached for his hand.

Mad at yourself. Not at him.

He took a soft breath as you reached for his hand, and he gently laced your fingers with his, feeling the familiar comfort of your touch.

“I couldn’t help you,” you said, frowning a little. “I should have helped you somehow…”

Rhysand’s heart ached in his chest as he heard your words. So that’s what you were angry about. You were angry because you thought you hadn’t helped him. That you could’ve done more.

“You did help,” he said, his voice softer. He gently squeezed your hand in his, his eyes roaming all over your face.

Your frown deepened, as you looked up into his eyes, slightly confused. Not understanding what he meant by that. Rhys saw the confusion on your face, the furrow in your brow. He realized that you were not grasping what he was trying to tell you.

A smile appeared on his face, the one that made his eyes shine. “You did help me,” he repeated, saying the words slowly. “You helped me every single day that I was away. You gave me hope, a reason to live. Without you, I would’ve lost my mind down there.”

Lifting his hand, he gently cupped your jaw, smiling more. “By the Cauldron,” a sigh left his lips as he rested his forehead against yours “Do you have any idea how many times I thought about you? How many times the memory of you, of your face, your body, was what kept me going?”

“Fifty years,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Fifty years of living in hell, and the only thing that kept me going was you. It was your face, your smile, your laugh, your scent, your voice, all playing in my head over and over and over again. That was the only thing keeping me sane.”

Tears started to build in your eyes at his words. “Idiot…” you mumbled, sniffling a little.

A soft smile appeared on Rhysand’s lips as he heard the word. He knew you only ever called him an idiot jokingly. And he knew that if you were now calling him an idiot, it was a good sign.

“And yet you love me anyway,” he said softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, catching a fallen tear.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, hugging him, as you sniffled again “Don’t leave me, ever again.”

Rhysand’s arms wrapped around your body immediately, holding onto you tightly as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent, letting it wash over him.

He let out a sigh. “I won’t,” he promised, holding onto you so tenderly, as if he was scared he might break you. “I’m never leaving you again. Ever.” His hands started to slowly caress your back, gently going up and down, just feeling the smooth skin under them. He took another few deep breaths, your scent, and your body against his almost making him feel dizzy.

Rhys gently guided you backward until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, causing you both to topple down onto the bed. He hovered above you, looking down at your face, looking into your eyes. His heart was pounding against his chest, his body almost aching with desire as he took in your face, looked at you laying out beneath him.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, gently reaching out a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

He lowered his head, slowly making his way down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin.

“I was yelling at everyone” You mumbled, already unbuttoning his shirt. “That we had to do something. Save you.”

Rhysand’s heart thumped in his chest as he heard your words. Despite knowing that you had never given up hope, the thought of you fighting for him, of you trying to save him, was almost too much. He could so easily imagine you yelling, demanding that everyone do something, demanding that everyone save him. He could practically see you standing there, his fierce, tiny, determined mate.

Mate. His mate.

Chuckling a little at your words he shook his head “Of course you were.” His hands were working quickly to take off your own shirt, needing to feel your skin underneath his touch. “I expected nothing less.”

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled too.

Rhys smiled, his lips against your neck. He continued to plant soft, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses up towards your jaw. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help the need he felt to mark you, to leave you something as proof of it being real, of him being back home.

“Of course,” his hands were all over you. “You’ve always been so fiercely protective of me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck again. “So very, very protective.”

“Because you deserve it” you whispered quickly. “You take care of everyone. You do everything to make everyone happy and safe.”

It was so true; those were the things that mattered to him. Making sure his people were happy, and safe. And most of all you. His heart clenched, shields still so high in his mind, hiding the memories from you. You still believed that he was worthy of being taken care of, that he deserved to be protected. And as you said the words, he felt his chest ache with overwhelming affection and love for you.

Rhysand felt a lump rise in his throat at your words. He couldn’t believe that you were here beneath him, saying these things to him. Praising him, loving him. It seemed too good to be true.

“Gods, you’ll make me cry if you keep saying things like that,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

You pulled him down by his neck, your lips not yet touching “But still, you are not being honest with me” you whispered, searching his eyes.

Rhysand let out a soft breath as you pulled him down, your bodies almost pressed together. Gods, he could practically taste you, he was so close to having you.

But then you stopped him from kissing you.

He raised his eyebrows at your words, now looking into your eyes, feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over him.

“And what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice careful.

You sighed, guiding him, so you both were sitting on the bed, still close but you did keep a small distance. “You are keeping me away.”

Rhysand frowned, feeling a pang of hurt run through him at your words. Keeping you away? That’s certainly not what he was doing. He was aching, aching, to have you close, to be with you, to have you in every way possible. He shook his head quickly, trying to banish the hurt from his eyes. “I’m not keeping you away, sweetheart,” he said, trying to find the right words. “I just want to go slow, I want to be careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No, not like that,” your voice was quiet, vulnerable. Raising your hand, you placed it on his temple, “You are keeping me away from you”. Feeling how high his shields were, how strongly he kept you away from his mind, it hurt you.

It hurt, not being able to feel him that way.

He felt his heart stop in his chest as he heard your words, as he felt your hand on his temple. It hadn’t even occurred to him how much you must have missed feeling him down the bond, feeling the connection.

But… he wasn’t ready for you to feel all the pain and fear he had endured, all the trauma from Under the Mountain.

“I want to help you, to give you everything you need. But I can’t do that while you keep me away. Not letting me in” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “I want to know, what she did to you. How she hurt you.”

You wanted to comfort him, to comfort and help him. But he felt so broken, so ugly, so used. He was scared, he was scared that you’d never look at him the same if you found out how Amarantha had touched, used him, and made him do those dirty things.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he heard your voice. No, he didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want you to hear about what had happened, he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want you to know about how weak and broken it had made him, how pathetic he had felt.

“You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You don’t want to be saddled with the horrors and trauma of it all.”

“Rhys I am your mate-“

“Exactly,” he interrupted, suddenly snapping. “You are my mate. I am supposed to protect you, to keep you safe. To take care of you, not the other way around. This isn’t-“ he stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realised that he was being an idiot. He was just feeling so damn vulnerable right now, so damn raw.

You shook your head, pulling him closer, “I just don’t want you to have all my horrors sitting in the back of your mind,” he said, his voice quiet now. “I don’t want that for you.”

“Look at me” You murmured softly “I won’t look at you differently if that is what you’re afraid of” You caressed his cheek. “I love every part of you, no matter what.”

Rhysand felt the knot in his chest tighten as you caressed his cheek, as you spoke such sweet, tender words to him.

And his heart, his heart ached.

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes roaming all over your face as he spoke. “You don’t understand, you don’t… I let her do it. For fifty damn years, I let her use, touch, and hurt me. And I just... laid there and endured it.”

“No, no, no, no, Rhys, my love no,” you shook your head again, searching his eyes, your heart breaking. “Everything you did was to save your family, to save your people, and I would never, look differently at you. You sacrificed so much, so much for other’s happiness” You rested your forehead against his.

Hearing the utter determination, the absolute conviction in your voice, made Rhysand want to cry. Feeling your forehead against his, your soft touch, the closeness.

Those goddamned words. The way you said them so honestly, with so much love, so much understanding.

“I let her use me… for fifty years I-“ He did not want to cry in front of you. “A whore, that is exactly what I am”

You gently took his hand, pulling him slowly, so carefully down, so you could both lie down. In your mind, there were already so many thoughts, as you slowly guessed what he meant, and your heart broke even more.

You felt sick that he had to endure all of that.

“Don’t. Don’t you ever dare call yourself that” you whispered.

Rhysand felt his chest tighten, his body shivering as he followed you. He desperately, desperately, wanted to bury himself in you and simply take comfort in your scent and your presence.

Yet, you did not make that kind of a move towards him. You just pulled him close, hugging him so gently. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, not being able to look into your eyes. He swallowed hard as the memories assaulted him again, making his stomach turn into a painful knot. “Fifty years,” he repeated hoarsely. “I let her use me, abuse me…”

“One day I felt so bad, that Cassian and Azriel literally dragged me out of my room” You spoke suddenly, stopping him, and changing the subject, just like that.

Caught by surprise by the sudden change of subject, Rhys blinked a few times, “What are you talking about?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed, not understanding.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, “I did not want to eat, or sleep, or move.” You murmured, playing gently with his hair. “They decided that it was time for me to… pull myself together. So they dumped me into the river.”

Feeling how hard it was for him to talk about what Amarantha did to him, you decided not to push him, to let go. Deciding that, it was not the time yet for him to open up about it, and as his mate, of course, you understood.

A small hint of a smile appeared on Rhysand’s face. The image of you being dragged out of bed by Cassian and Azriel and being thrown into a river was a very fitting one. He sighed softly as you tangled your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of your touch.

“How long did they have to keep doing that?” he asked, now gently caressing your side.

“Two weeks straight” you laughed a little, feeling him relaxing in your arms.

Rhys started laughing too, the thought of you being dumped into a river every single day for two whole weeks was both amusing and amusing.

He was relaxing, but he still felt so on edge. On one hand, he was enjoying this moment with you, enjoying your touch, your laughter, feeling the bond flow through you both. But on the other hand, there was a part of him that was aching with the need to talk, to unload the past fifty years onto you. He did not want to keep hiding those memories from you.

“And then, next month came, the same story. It happened a lot” you murmured softly, nuzzling your face in his hair.

Even though he was enjoying this moment, enjoying your soft, gentle touch and your sweet voice, there was a part of him still feeling so raw, so disgusted with himself. He suddenly let out a soft sigh, his fingers gripping your hip a bit harder. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah, I am” You laughed with a bright smile.

And Rhys couldn’t help the laughter that broke out of him at your words, feeling a burst of warm affection. Gods, he had missed this. He had missed laughing, making sarcastic comments and jokes just like that.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. “Clever girl.”

“When you are ready. One day, I will be here to listen,” you started quietly, still playing gently with his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingers, “But for now, can we just, stay like this?”

Deeply you wanted to know what exactly happened Under the Mountain, what Amarantha did to him. How much he really sacrificed. How broken he really was, and how could you help.

But not yet. Not when you finally could hold him, rest with him, laugh with him. Not when he was so alive, so real, lying next to you, breathing, not a hallucination, not a dream.

As you spoke, Rhysand felt a sense of relief wash over him. The fact that you weren’t forcing him to talk about it now, that you weren’t pushing him to unload all his trauma and pain onto you.

Instead, all he had to think about right now was the fact that he was home, that he was in your arms.

He pressed a few gentle kisses on your shoulder, before he spoke, his voice gruff. “Only if I can hold you like this every day for the next fifty years.”

You giggled softly, “Fifty years is not enough.”

Rhys chuckled softly, feeling a rush of affection towards you once again. Gods, he would never get tired of the sound of your sweet giggles.

“Alright, a hundred then. Two hundred, even,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, followed by a small love bite. “That’s still not enough, though.”

“Still not enough.”

“Forever” This time, he connected your lips in a soft kiss.

“Forever.”

[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure pt4

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

notes: Ya’ll ya’ll ya’llllll, I’ve had a crazy past couple of days I got sick almost died lmao but whew.. ya girl is back. Also that won’t stop me from posting on schedule. So yeah as promised every Wednesday and Sunday I’ll be posting a new chapter, and that’s all i gotta say now enjoy.

previous chapter

wc: 3.3k

As Victoria shut the door with her leg, your fingers eagerly tugged at her blazer. Your desperate kisses trailed down the hallway, to the living room that was shrouded in darkness, save for the moonlight streaming through the backyard glass—doors. She playfully pulled you onto the couch, and you erupted into laughter as you straddled her lap.

Your hands curled around her neck, feeling the strong pulse beneath her skin. Her hands moved to gently squeeze your ass, and her grin against your mouth turned your knees weak. Your lips met once more, and she pulled away, breathless fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt, with a slow seductive smile on her face. She cupped your jaw, “Y…You’re so beautiful…” She panted, her eyes meeting yours as the heat flooded your cheeks and you leaned in response, capturing her lips in a tender, slower kiss—

Victoria jolted awake, her heart racing. It was you again, the same lingering thoughts that had been consuming her for weeks. Your laugh, your touch.. It all felt so real. She blinked at the ceiling of her bedroom, realizing it was just a dream. A long, slow breath escaped her lips as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before throwing the covers off and heading to the bathroom to start her day.

In the shower, she dipped her head under the water stream, and closed her eyes letting the warmth soothe her taut nerves. Her mind, though, stubbornly drifted back to the vivid dream she had of you. She took a deep, shaky breath, an attempt to shake away the lingering thoughts. But they clung, relentless and all-consuming.

Her heart pounded, echoing in her ears. Her hands moved reluctantly between her thighs, guided by a familiar need. A deep sigh slipped through her trembling lips, and with her forehead pressed against the cold tiles, her fingers found her sensitive clit. She shuddered as the delicious sensation coursed through her, lips parting in a silent plea for release.

Her fingers traced lazy circles, her clit thrumming in response. Her eyes flashed with memories of your face, the warmth of your lips, and the soothing sound of your voice. Her chest ached with desire, and her free hand found her breast, messaging it gently while her middle finger teased her slit, a small, helpless whine escaping her lips as she pushed it in deeper.

Her body surged forward, and she added another finger, her heart pounding against her chest as thick fog filled the air. Rolling her nipple between her fingers, she let out another soft moan, increasing the pace. Her mind, clouded by thoughts of you, pushed her closer to the edge.

Her eyes tight shut. Desperate and aching, she moved one hand, gripping at the tiles for support. She fervently wished that it was your fingers pleasuring her instead of her own. Her head fell back as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. A warm pooling sensation started low within, her orgasm building. In that moment, your name escaped her lips in the most needy, whiny groan.

Her knees buckled, her voice breaking in small cries, and the all-consuming throb of her clit took over. Her body stilled, the movement paused as she struggled to breathe. Her forehead pressed against the back of her hand, holding onto the wall for dear life. Her throat parched and she licked her lips, her mind blank only you were there.

She was so desperate to have you here. Oh, she wanted more. None of this was enough… she yearned to know the feeling of your skin against hers, how you’d look, react and respond to her touch, or sound against her ear.

Her thoughts continued racing to your love life, wondering if your girlfriend ever has had the privilege of giving you the pleasure you deserved. Did she worship your body, made you forget about whatever troubled you like she’d vow to?

A shudder escaped her, her chest throbbing with unfulfilled desire. Her heavy eyelids finally fluttered open, gazing at the blank stare of the wall In front of her, as the water continued to sweep down her back. She surrendered to the warmth, allowing it to temporarily soothe her aching heart.

Once at the office, Victoria’s usual composure was a little off. She catches herself zoning out more than once, she couldn’t help but steal glances at you as you interacted with others—your charm, your calm demeanor. It all continuously drew her in.

As she sat at her desk, her eyes were drawn to you again through the glass. You were engrossed by your work and completely unaware of the effect you had on her. She watched the way your fingers moved across the keyboard, the slight furrow in your brow as you concentrated. At one point, you catch her looking, and for a second your eyes lock.

But she quickly glances away, feigning a sudden interest in the paperwork on her desk, but not before noticing the slight smile on your mouth. She bites her lip, shaking her head, trying to focus. Get it together, Vic. she tells herself.

Victoria knew all too well the unspoken boundaries, being your employer and all. She also known you had a girlfriend, and she didn't want to interfere, but the thought of it still left her stomach in knots. Was it a hint of jealousy that confused her so? Why was she feeling this way?

The power dynamic between you was a clear line, and yet her attraction to you was clear as the sun in the sky. She'd been holding back for far too long, hiding her desires as she casts you glances or offered compliments, seemingly innocent gestures that held so much more.

Those little praises.. her admiration, it was obvious your sweet, compliant nature, and let's not forget you’re… well, not so bad to look at. In a role where You’d fetch things for her, little did you know you had her in your grasp. And it frustrates her that it’s taking you a while to catch on.

Lately though, her intentions became more transparent. Stealing a brush, a lingering touch, her desire for you to notice that she wanted you, and it was impossible to ignore.

As the day progressed, you were at the break room, she leaned against the counter, watching as you opened a box of donuts with that ever-present focused look on your face. You grabbed one, taking a bite while talking about the latest progress in the case. She nodded along, pretending to listen, but her mind was elsewhere—far away from work and closer to the way your lips moved as you spoke.

Her gaze drifted downward to your mouth, catching the faint dusting of powdered sugar on the corner. Without thinking, she stepped closer, her hand reaching up instinctively, her thumb brushing the powder away from your lips. The movement felt so natural, and for a split second, you froze, your eyes widened in surprise.

Time seemed to stop as you stood there, her hand still lingering by your mouth. Your breath hitched, and without realizing it, Victoria leaned in, her lips found yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. The world outside the break room disappeared, leaving only the warmth of your mouth against hers.

But then—

“Victoria?” your voice pierced through her daydream like a sharp needle, pulling her back to reality. She blinked, realizing her hand was still mid-air, holding a napkin. You looked at her, eyebrows raised in concern. “You okay there?”

Her face flushed red as she quickly shook off the moment. “Uh, yeah. Sorry—just… lost in thought.” She tossed the napkin in the trash, forcing herself to focus.

You smiled, clearly oblivious to what had just played out in her mind, and continued talking about the case as though nothing had happened. But her heart still raced, the phantom feeling of your lips lingering long after the daydream had ended.

Later in the day, Victoria had a meeting downtown with an old friend/rival from her early days at the firm. They had once been on the same career path, but while she climbed her way up to become senior partner, Michael’s career had taken a different trajectory. He’s now a partner at a smaller, less prestigious firm, and their relationship had been strained ever since.

The meeting was about a high-profile case that requires both firms to collaborate—one of those situations where they can’t avoid each other, even though she’d rather for the two of them to not interact.

She wasn’t thrilled about seeing him, but the case involved a major corporate client with deep pockets. His firm represents a key stakeholder, and their interests are aligned—for now. They’ve agreed to meet in person to discuss strategy and ensure they’re on the same page. However, Victoria knew Michael well enough to suspect that this meeting will be less about the case and more about him trying to undermine her authority.

She arrives at an upscale restaurant where she was greeted by the host and led to a secluded corner booth, where Michael is already seated, his glass half-full with an expensive bourbon.

She was already dreading this meeting. She could handle most things—difficult clients, high-stakes negotiations, even the media when necessary—but Michael was a particular breed of aggravation. He was the type who thought every victory was his alone, and every failure was someone else’s to own.

He stood as she approached him, offering her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Victoria,” he greets her, extending his hand. “Still keeping everyone on their toes, I see.”

She shakes his hand but doesn’t return the smile. “I try.”

They both sit, and the waiter promptly returns to take their orders. Victoria orders a coffee, while Michael orders another bourbon, leaning back into the plush seat as if he owns the place. His casual demeanor only grates on her nerves.

She’d forgotten how smug he could be. Or maybe she hadn’t. It was hard to forget someone who made it his life’s mission to outshine everyone, even when there was no spotlight to be had.

The conversation starts professionally enough. They discuss the case, exchanging information and strategies. It’s a tense, businesslike conversation with the bare minimum of small talk, just the way Victoria likes it. But Michael, being Michael, can’t leave things at that.

After the preliminary work talk is done, he leans back and gives her that familiar smirk—the one that used to make her want to punch him back in law school.

“You know, it’s funny,” he says, swirling his bourbon. “I remember when you were still trying to figure things out. Fresh out of law school, unsure if you were cut out for the big leagues. Now look at you.”

She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by his attempt at flattery. “I’ve always been cut out for it, Michael. I just had to prove it to people like you.”

His smile falters, just for a second, but he recovers quickly. “Touché. But don’t tell me you’ve never felt out of place, even for a second. A woman in your position…it’s not exactly common. And we both know how the boys’ club can be.”

There it was—the comment she’d been expecting. He always managed to make these backhanded, misogynistic remarks, like he couldn’t stand the idea that she’d succeeded where he hadn’t. She straightens in her chair, meeting his gaze head-on.

“I’ve dealt with the ‘boys’ club’ my entire career,” she says, her voice steady but cold. “And here I am, still standing. So if you think that’s going to rattle me, Michael, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to rattle you,” he says, leaning forward. “I’m just…curious. How far do you think you can go before they start asking questions? Before people start wondering how you got here?”

There’s a long pause. Victoria knows exactly what he’s implying, and it makes her blood boil. The insinuation that she’s had to do something—compromise herself, perhaps, or use her looks or connections—to get where she is. She’s heard it before from other men like Michael. But today, she’s not in the mood to let it slide.

She smiles—an icy, sharp smile that holds no warmth. “Let me explain something to you,” she says, leaning in slightly. “I got here because I’m better than you. Better than anyone else who’s ever tried to tear me down. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. Least of all you.”

Michael’s smirk fades. He didn’t expect her to hit back so hard, and for the first time in years, he looks uncomfortable. Victoria lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, relishing the fact that she’s finally put him in his place.

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat. “I guess that’s why you’re the one in charge now.”

Victoria doesn’t respond. She doesn’t need to. She’s already won this round. After finishing the conversation about the case, She stands, gathering her things. She doesn’t wait for pleasantries or to hear whatever lame apology or excuse Michael might offer. The moment the business part of the meeting is over, she’s done with him.

As she walked away, heels clicking against the polished floor, she felt an odd sense of satisfaction. Dealing with Michael always left a sour taste in her mouth, but today? Today, she’d walked away feeling stronger. There were always going to be people like him—people who couldn’t stand seeing her succeed. But as long as she stayed ahead, as long as she kept proving them wrong, she could handle it.

She left the restaurant and stepped out onto the busy New York streets, her mind drifted back to you. She can’t help but wonder why you’re the one and only person who makes her feel like she’s constantly second-guessing herself. With Michael, it was easy to put him in his place, to remind him of the power she holds. But with you…it was different.

How is it that the you—the only person who isn’t trying to tear her down is the one who makes her feel the most vulnerable? the one who makes her question the wall she’s built around herself.

After the meeting, Victoria returns to the firm to work late on a case with you. The library was quiet, only sound coming from papers being flipped and the soft tapping of keys as she worked through some case precedents. Across the long wooden table, you sat with your head buried in notes, visibly frustrated. Your pacing back and forth had become more frequent as the night wore on.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said, glancing up from her own work. She couldn’t help but smile as you ruffled your hair in frustration. It was strange—Victoria rarely made time for others in moments like this. She had her own pile of work waiting, but here she was, using any excuse just to spend more time with you. The other cases can wait.

You groaned, resting your hands onto the table as you stood across from her. “I’ve read every precedent I can find, but nothing fits. If I don’t figure this out, we’re screwed.”

She pushed her chair back and stood up, moving around the table toward you. “You’re looking at this from the wrong angle. Let me show you a method that might help.”

She leaned over behind your shoulder, intentionally pressing herself against your back and bringing her face close to yours as she adjusted the papers in front of you. Her breath hitched slightly once she caught the scent of your intoxicating perfume, she could feel the heat radiating off you as her arm brushed against yours.

“See this case?” She pointed to a page, her voice quieter now. “If you break down the elements like this…” Her hand trailed to yours, guiding your fingers to mark the page. The touch lingered, and neither of you pulled away.

You turned your head slightly, her heart skipped a beat when your eyes met. There was a charged silence between you—one that neither seemed willing or able to break. For a moment, she’d forgot entirely about the case, the firm, everything else.

Without thinking, her hand slid up to your shoulder, the warmth of your body drawing her in. Her breath caught, gaze lowering to your lips. “Victoria…” you murmured.

Victoria had fought battles in courtrooms, in boardrooms, but this…this was a battle she wasn’t sure she wanted to win anymore. She was growing a little antsy to be completely honest. Her eyes stayed glued on you, her mind wandering and racing in directions that she had forbidden herself to go. She wanted you, so bad. She couldn’t resist it any longer and without a single thought she leaned in cutting off whatever protest you might’ve had.

Your lips met in a sudden, fiery kiss—months of unspoken tension and stolen glances crashing into this one moment. She pulled you closer fingers tangled in your hair. It was reckless, it was impulsive, and it was everything you’d been holding back, but neither of you dared to pull away.

And it also was wrong in the most scandalous way, but there was something about it that was thrilling, something undeniably right. Victoria's hands roamed your sides, gripping your skin, bringing you closer to her.

She felt your body stiffen for a brief instant, heart faltered terrified. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she searched your eyes for any signs of discomfort once you pulled back, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

You gently placed your hands on her shoulders, creating a small space between your bodies. Her chest ached the loss of your warmth was immediate and profound, left her feeling both uneasy and bereft.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion and tinged with regret. "No... I can't," you murmured, your words hit her hard, like a bucket of ice-cold water shocking her back to reality. Her mind, previously clouded by desire, now raced with conflicting emotions. After a moment's pause, you added, with a hint of finality, "We can't. This... this isn't right."

Your eyes met her chocolate brown ones, filled with a mix of surprise and disappointment. A single nod from her, accepting your decision, followed. She wiped off her smudged lipstick, with the back of her hand. Her lips a soft pink as she looked away panting, hands resting on her hips.

"You're right," she spoke, her voice when she’d finally found it was softer now, with a hint of vulnerability creeping into it. "Uhh… we’ll talk about this later." She kept your gaze, your eyes a mix of emotions swirling within them - regret, longing, and something deeper that she couldn't quite place.

Her gaze drifted to the faint blush on your cheeks, barely noticeable in the dim lighting of the room, causing her heart to skip a beat. The sight of you, slightly disheveled and breathless, shifted something within her that she struggled to suppress.

She watched you turn away from her, with heavy steps, you silently gathered your things from the table, each movement deliberate and slow, as if giving yourself time to reconsider. The rustle of papers and the soft thud of books being collected seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet library. Her eyes were kept on you, as you walked through the aisles, the shelves of legal tomes looming on either side, she couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. The scent of old books and leather bindings, once comforting, now seemed to mock the chaos of her emotions.

[ashwhowrites]

Could you possibly do a part 2 of the pick me, choose me, love me fic that you did for Eddie x reader

I had a few people wanting a part 2 so I hope this will be a great ending for everyone!

Pick me, choose me, love me part 2

Y/N yawned as she opened her eyes. She was confused at first but then remembered where she was and why. She felt her stomach sink as she thought about Eddie. It killed her to know her best friend betrayed her and she felt sick at the thought that he knew how she felt for months and never said a thing.

She blinked away her tears as she felt a body moving next to her. She looked over her shoulder, letting out a small laugh as Steve's face was buried in the pillows. She rolled over to face him, closing her eyes to try to get more sleep.

Steve started groaning so she opened her eyes. She smiled when his barely open eyes looked at her. He gave her a tired smile, his hair all over the place as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and deep from just waking up. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I did. Thanks for letting me crash here," she said, a sad smile on her face. "Guess I should start figuring out what the hell I'm going to do."

"I know what you need to do first," he said, slowly sitting up. The sheet moved and exposed his hairy chest as he smiled over at her.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to keep her eyes respectful.

"Breakfast" he whispered. He laughed as she pushed his shoulder.

"Just when I thought you were going to be helpful!" She teased. She got out of bed and groaned. "Fuck, I don't have clothes or anything."

"I'll drive you home and you can grab a few things. We'll go to breakfast and plan what you want to do next." Steve offered, and Y/N smiled down at him.

"Thank you, Steve. For all of this and helping."

Steve slipped out of bed and walked over to pull her into a hug.

~

Y/N sighed as they walked up to her door, Eddie's car was up front so she knew she was going to face him.

"You can do this. Just go straight to your room and grab what you need." Steve encouraged. She nodded and unlocked the door.

Steve followed behind her as they walked in. Y/N held her breath as she walked into the living room, Eddie and Kathy were cuddled on the couch watching TV. Upon seeing her, Eddie stood up shocked. Kathy grumbled as her body slumped against the couch.

"Y/N?"

"I'm just here to grab a few things and I'm gone." She snapped, rolling her eyes when she looked at Kathy. She walked to her room and Steve stayed behind. Y/N knew Eddie picked Kathy but it pained her to see that after the huge blowout, he was still right by her side.

"Eddie, Kathy" Steve greeted

"Playing the knight and shining armor, Harrington? I mean how long has she been running to you and she still has no feelings for you!" Eddie smirked

"Let's see," Steve pretended to think, "I think the first time was when you got completely drunk and told her that sometimes you have dreams about marrying her. Oh! Then a minute later, your tongue was down a girl's throat! That was maybe freshmen year? So um since then!" Steve said as he snapped his fingers. "I don't need her to have feelings for me to care about her. It doesn't give me a purpose to be a cocky son of a bitch like you."

Eddie's smirk dropped and he felt anger rush through him. "I've always cared about her. Her having a crush on me didn't change any way that I treated her!"

"That's true," Steve said as he stepped closer. "It's her that changed the way you treated Y/N." He whispered, his eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder to Kathy.

"You're pathetic, Harrington" Eddie growled, "she has never looked twice in your direction and you think that'll change because she's hurting? You'll just be a rebound. You'll never be me."

"You think I want to be you?" Steve laughed, "She runs away from you and comes straight to me. She comes to me for comfort, for love, for support. You fucked up, man. If she wants a rebound, I'll give her a rebound. I'll give her every damn reason to never speak to you again. You got Kathy, you're not the winner here."

"You'd take advantage of her and fuck her?" Eddie growled, shoving Steve's body.

"Be careful there Eddie, sounds like you might be jealous," Steve winked. He loved edging Eddie on. "I'd never take advantage of her, I'm nothing like you."

"Steve, I'm ready to go," Y/N said as she walked out with a bag.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said

"Y/N, can we please talk?" Eddie asked, ignoring the pain he felt when she stood next to Steve and held his arm for comfort. She used to hold his arm when she needed comfort.

Y/N wanted to say yes, but seeing Kathy on her old couch reminded her nothing was going to change and she'd keep getting hurt.

"Nothing we need to say. Once I figure out where I'm going to stay, I'll be here to pack everything up. Enjoy your life, Eddie." She said sadly, tugging on Steve's arm.

Eddie watched as they walked out, a different feeling swarming around his stomach.

~

"I think if I moved a few blocks down, it should still be in my price range," Y/N said, cutting up her eggs.

"Do you really want to deal with that? And you'll have to find a roommate." Steve explained, then shoved a mouthful of waffles in his mouth.

"What else can I do? Staying with Eddie is not an option. He'll probably have Kathy move in so I don't think he'll give me the place."

"Live with me," Steve shrugged

Y/N choked on her water, coughing as she set down her cup.

"You don't want me living with you. I'm going to be a mess with all my emotions and you deserve a break some days," she joked, but a sad reality to her words.

"I'll never need a break from you. You've been staying at my place for years when you need it. The only difference is that it's your place now too." Steve explained

"I don't know. What about when you want girls around? You don't need a sobbing girl across the hall." Y/N argued.

"I want you there," Steve said as he reached over and held her hand. "Give it a chance before you go out and spend all your money. It's a free trial!" Steve joked

He smiled when she let out a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll be your trail roommate!"

~~~

It didn't take long for Y/N and Steve to spend every moment together. She always felt happiest around Steve and she forgot how good it felt. He always had her smiling and laughing, and it was refreshing.

After a week, Y/N forced herself back to work. She wasn't sure how it would go now that she and Eddie weren't talking. Or at least she wasn't, he still called every day. She was worried he would be sitting at the bar like he always did, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing him.

"What do I even say? Can I ignore him? Or do I have to sit there and serve him drinks like he didn't break my heart!" Y/N ranted as she got herself ready for work. Steve sat on her newly claimed bed, admiring her as she brushed through her hair frantically.

"Would you feel more at ease if I came with you?" Steve asked, "If he gets out of line, I'll cut in."

Y/N smiled at him through the mirror, "You'd do that for me? I'm sure there's a better way to spend your Friday night."

"I'd do anything for you, doll." He smiled

~

"So, how long are you going to wait until you tell her the truth?" Robin asked, playing with the small umbrella in her drink.

Robin and Steve were sitting at the bar, keeping Y/N company throughout her shift. The bar was busy and packed so she was able to keep her mind off Eddie. And it helped that he still hadn't shown.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, Robin smirked as his eyes stayed on Y/N as she walked through the bar.

"Can you stop staring for a second and talk to me?" Robin joked, hitting Steve's arm.

Steve blinked and looked at Robin, "happy?"

"Yes, and you know exactly what I mean. You can't torture yourself by never telling her you are in love with her." Robin said she could see the emotions changing in Steve's eyes.

"I know and I will tell her. But she's still hurting right now and throwing that on her would be inappropriate. I want her to heal."

"No, you want her to be over Eddie." Robin corrected

"You're a pain in the ass," Steve groaned

"Drinks?" Y/N asked as she leaned over the bar to grab Steve's beer. He coughed as her cleavage poured out of the tiny tank top the bar made her wear.

Robin snickered and Steve was quick to kick her with his foot.

"For you," Y/N smiled as she placed the beer on Steve's napkin, he went to grab it and his fingers gently touched hers. Y/N couldn't help but let her fingers linger before she pulled away. Snapping back into reality as Robin coughed.

"Another one for you, Rob?" Y/N asked politely

"I'm good, gorgeous." Robin winked

Y/N winked back and went to help other customers.

"Do you have to flirt with her right in front of me?" Steve teased

"Let the show begin," Robin said with a smirk as she nodded her head towards the front. Steve looked to the door and there Eddie was walking in.

Steve glared flames into Eddie as he walked further into the bar and took a seat on the other side. Steve smiled when she walked right past Eddie and came to him.

"What do I do? I'm panicking" Y/N whispered, trying her best not to look over her shoulder.

"Want me to ask him to leave?" Steve asked, already standing up

"No!" Y/N said, "I don't need you guys fighting. It's my problem, I need to be an adult and just face him."

"I'll be right here if you need me. Just call me over," Steve said as he sat back down. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said

Robin watched as she left. "He seems pissed. You really get under his skin, don't you?" she asked

"He doesn't like that she realized she doesn't need him," Steve shrugged as he sipped on his beer

~

"Is he your new bodyguard or does he just follow you around like a love-sick puppy?" Eddie scoffed

"What do you want to drink?" Y/N asked, ignoring his comment as she grabbed a glass

"You might not be talking to me right now, but I'm still your best friend and we can work this out," Eddie explained

"Are you going to break up with her?"

"Why does that have to be the only outcome?"

"Not understanding why tells me there's nothing worth working out. If you were my best friend you wouldn't have hurt me while you knew I have feelings for you. It took me too damn long to see that you don't care about me as much as you say you do. You picked Kathy, you get to live with that choice. And when you wake up and finally realize you picked a fake bitch over the girl who actually loves you, don't you even think about me." She spat, slamming down his glass of beer.

She felt proud as she turned around and walked over to Steve

Eddie gripped his glass as he fumed watching her laughing with Steve.

~~~

A few weeks passed and things were changing. The more time Y/N spent with the Steve, the less she thought of Eddie. She was moving on from him and slowly falling into Steve.

She realized it all on a random Sunday. Steve had his friends over for the football game, everyone was cheering and having a good time. Y/N didn't really watch football but she was dressed in one of Steve's jerseys, sitting next to him on the couch. Her legs were sprawled out on his lap, and his large left hand was softly tracing shapes on her bare skin. His eyes were focused on the TV, his mouth running as he talked with his friends. He was occupied by everything around him, but his touch never left her.

There was a knock on the door and Steve got up to answer it

"Hey Y/N," Robin greeted as she walked in with more beer

"Hey girl," Y/N smiled, she stood up so Robin could take her spot. The couch was full and Y/N prepared to head off to her room.

Steve sat down and cracked open a beer, within seconds he was lost in the game. But no matter how occupied he was, he would always know if she was missing.

"Whatcha doing over there? Come sit," Steve laughed as Y/N stood in the hallway

"Robin needs a spot and this is your friend time. I can hang in my room, don't worry about me!" Y/N shrugged

"I can grab a stool from the kitchen!" Robin offered, going to stand up but Steve pushed her back down.

"Nonsense, there is room for both my girls, come here," Steve said as he waved her over

Y/N slowly walked over, she leaned down to whisper in Steve's ear

"I don't want to be rude and make all your friends move," Y/N looked around the couch, all the boys zoned in on the TV and she didn't want to disturb that.

Steve didn't say anything, waiting until she stood up. Once she did, he turned her around and grabbed her hips, throwing her right down on his lap. She squealed in surprise.

Steve wrapped one arm around her and moved up to whisper in her ear,

"This okay?"

The feeling of his hard body against her back, the raspiness in his whisper, his breath tickling her ear, and the way his hand rested on the inside of her thigh made her think of Steve in ways she never had.

"Yeah, it's okay," she said, her voice cracking as she squirmed. Her eyes were on the TV but her mind was busy imagining Steve's hard body in different scenarios.

Ever since then, a crush on Steve formed and kept getting out of control.

~~~

More weeks passed and Y/N was a mess for Steve. She tried to keep it under control, cussing herself out for crushing on all the guys she moved in with. She knew how bad it ended last time and did not want to lose Steve too.

But he made it so hard

It was his birthday and he wanted to go clubbing. So now Y/N was slipping on her tightest dress, with her best heels, and perfecting her hair and makeup.

"Hey, are you re-" Steve cut himself off as his jaw dropped. He stared at her as she finished her lipstick. She stood up and turned around to face him. She shivered at the way he looked her up and down, once again making controlling her crush harder to do.

"Yes, let's go!" she rushed out, speeding past him so she could feel herself breathe again.

They were at the club for a few hours, a few drinks, and a lot of dances. They weren't drunk, but their liquid courage seemed to make them more free with each other. Y/N would never be grinding on Steve's body if she was fully sober. And Steve wouldn't be sucking on her neck if he was fully sober. But the heat between them was too much to ignore, the sexual tension needed to be acted upon, or neither would be able to move on.

So lost in lust, neither remembered how they got home. But it didn't matter as they pushed through their front door with their lips locked. They made out as they walked to Steve's room, pushing open his door. Steve pulled away as they walked towards his bed, she stopped when her legs hit the mattress.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, his chest moving rapidly as he breathed hard. She admired his red lips, loving the way she could see just how hard they were kissing. Then she looked into his eyes, so dark and swimming with lust. She wished she was looking at herself through his eyes because she must have looked beautiful by the way he couldn't look away.

"Make me feel good, birthday boy," she whispered, a smirk on her lips as he moaned. She gasped when he pushed her body against the bed and climbed on top of her.

His mouth was on hers as his hands moved under her dress. She moaned as he teased her cunt over her thin underwear. His long fingers slid up and down, his mouth sucking away her breath as she panted underneath him.

Neither wanted to spend time with foreplay, both early tearing each other's clothes off. He was painfully hard and she had never felt so wet in her life. She was running her fingers through his hairy chest and her other hand scratching down his back. His head buried in her neck as he pushed himself inside of her.

He started slow, memorizing how she felt wrapped around him. He had been dreaming of this for years and he didn't want to rush anything. But the way she moaned, begging him for more, and whispering dirty words in his ear made him want to lose himself inside of her.

"Steve please, I can handle it," she begged. He felt amazing don't get her wrong, but she wanted him to fuck her like an animal.

"I've wanted this for so long, I want to feel everything," he said against her lips, his forehead softly pressed against hers. She smiled at his words, feeling her heart burst.

"I promise this won't be the only time. Show me how desperately you want this, let yourself go," she said, reaching up to hold his cheek

He turned his head to kiss her palm

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said

The second she nodded, his mouth attacked her chest. She moaned out as he bit down on her nipple, tugging it was his teeth as he drilled his cock inside of her.

"Fuck yes," she moaned, smiling as she felt pleasure running all throughout her body. He was long and thick, feeling like heaven inside her as he fucked her fast.

"You feel amazing, baby," He moaned

His bed was smacking the wall

His balls were smacking against her skin

Her moans were turning into screams

"Make me cum, Steve. Make me cum," she whined, throwing her head back

"Gladly" he smirked, and he slid himself out of her. Giving her no time to whine in protest as he flipped her around. She clawed at his pillows as he pushed her hips up, her ass in the air.

She gasped in pleasure as he slipped himself back inside of her, keeping a rapid pace as he moved his right hand down to her clit. She felt her eyes roll in the back of her head as he swirled his fingers against her clit, adding to the pleasure that was building in her stomach.

"Yes, yes, yes" she chanted like a prayer as she felt herself getting close. Then he slipped out of her again and she wanted to cry. But then she felt his wet tongue pushed inside of her.

She cried into the pillows as he tongue fucked her and kept his fingers rubbing circles on her clit. She didn't have time to warn him, her thighs shook and she felt everything snap.

Steve moaned as he felt her cum soak his face. He happily ate her cum, humming at her sweet taste. He groaned as he felt his cock twitch, he pulled back and pushed himself back inside her wet cunt.

She yelped at the overstimulation, crying into the sheets as he chased his orgasm.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum so hard" he moaned

"Fucking," thrust "Gorgeous," thrust, "best" thrust, "sex of," thrust, "my life,"

"Oh my god" Y/N whined as she felt Steve cumming inside of her. She could feel his warm cum painting her walls, every drop inside of him, her cunt milking him until he was empty.

His sweaty body collapsed against her back. He panted as he slowly stood up with shaky legs. She rolled her body over, a blissful smile on her face. Her eyes were heavy as she looked at him through her lashes, his sweaty and toned body standing over her.

He looked down at her in awe

She wiggled her finger to call him closer, he listened and leaned down. She smiled as she leaned up and softly kissed his lips.

~

The next morning Steve was in the kitchen making breakfast, his chest bare and a pair of sweatpants low on his hips. When he moved a certain way he could feel the scratches on his back and he'd hiss at the sting.

He was lost in memory when he heard a knock on the door. He turned off the stove and walked over to the door. He opened it and was surprised to see Eddie.

"I need to talk to Y/N," he demanded

"Hello to you too Eddie, and I don't think that is a good idea," Steve explained, ready to shut the door but Eddie stopped the door with his hand

"I don't care what you think, I need to talk to her," Eddie argued

"Well, she's not here so bye," Steve again tried to close the door but Eddie wasn't having any of it.

"I feel like I can barely walk, Steve. Jesus chr-EDDIE!" Y/N froze as she walked out of the bedroom. Her eyes locked between Eddie and Steve, both men looking mad as ever, but for different reasons.

Eddie felt his heart race as she stumbled as she walked, her words, and the dark marks on her neck. Eddie didn't take long to connect the dots; all he saw was red.

"YOU FUCKER!" Eddie screamed, taking Steve down to the floor. Y/n screamed in panic as Eddie and Steve began to brawl on the ground in front of her.

"EDDIE GET OFF!" Y/N screamed, grabbing his arm and shoving him away from Steve. Eddie stood on his feet, glaring as she helped Steve stand up. She frowned at the little blood that fell from Steve's nose.

"What the hell is your problem!" Y/N spat, turning around as her glare landed on Eddie

"He's my fucking problem," Eddie hissed, pointing his finger at Steve as he seethed in anger. "I knew all along that fucker liked you. Sitting in the corner, being a shoulder for you to cry on so he can make moves on you!"

"Why do you care so much? It's not like Y/N is your girlfriend, Eddie. I'm not in the wrong for going after what I want. You've got your girlfriend to focus on so leave us alone" Steve spat

"Kathy and I broke up"

Y/N whipped her head to look at Eddie, pure shock on her face

"What?" Y/N asked

Eddie looked at Y/N, softly grabbing her hand. Steve held himself back from tearing Eddie's hand off.

"I miss you," he said, his eyes staring deep into Y/N's. "I realized everything too late, I know that. But you changed my life and I'm never going to get over losing you. I should have listened when you warned me and I regret nothing more than picking her over you. I'm jealous, I'll be honest. The idea of you and him," Eddie said as he nodded his head towards Steve with a pained look, "breaks my heart. I thought I was so angry about it because I wanted to protect you, but I know that's not why."

"Eddie, what are you saying?" Y/N gulped

"I'm saying that I'm jealous and angry about Steve because I have feelings for you. I think I always have, it just took so damn long to realize it. I love you and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through. I want you to come home, and I want to work this out. I want you."

Steve could feel his heart-shattering in his chest with every word. It hurt to see the look in Y/N's eyes. It was everything she wanted to hear ever since she fell for him. Eddie confessed he was in love with her, and Steve had no idea where that left him.

"Eddie I-I" Y/N stuttered, she was honestly at a loss for words

"Just say you love me too," Eddie begged, pushing his forehead against hers, he held her face in place. His rough hands on her delicate cheeks

Steve had to look away, the water filling his eyes as he tried to hold back his tears

"I love you too," she whispered

Steve bit down on his lip as hard as he could, silencing his sobs as his body shook. He did everything for her, he treated her the way she deserved, and he still wasn't going to get the girl.

"But I'm not in love with you anymore"

Her words made both boys freeze

Y/N stepped back, taking Eddie's hands off of her.

"What?" Eddie whispered, a pained look in his eyes as she kept stepping back

"I spent years wanting to hear you say that, but I've never felt loved by you. But Steve," she said, walking over to him. She softly grabbed his hand, "he shows me how much he loves me every day"

"I understand," Eddie choked out

Steve and Y/N watched as Eddie left, the door closing behind him

"So, you've uh liked me that long?" Y/N asked, a small smile on her face as she turned to look at Steve

"Just a bit," he shrugged

Y/N stood in front of him, dropping his hand to reach up and wipe away his tears

"I like you too, you know just a bit," she joked, loving the way he smiled and laughed

"I was preparing to lose you" Steve sighed

Y/N nodded and cupped his cheek, she leaned in and kissed his lips. "You won't. I pick you"

@dreamerjj @lotrefcp @daisy-munson @buckybarnessweetheart @munsongirl97 @mugloversonly @duncanhillscoffeecups

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[msschemmenti]

sing with me please

emily prentiss x singer!reader

prompt: reader and emily are dating and she’s a rising artist on her first small tour. she’s been gone for weeks but is back in dc for a show. obviously emily is there and reader begs for emily to come on stage and sing their song with her to close out the show.

a/n: au inspired by this picture of paget and this series i’ve been writing for myself about a singing reader/oc. also this is not proofread at all. let me know what you think— and if you’re interested in more stuff like this :)

song featured : juna - clairo

“God, i can’t wait to see you.” y/n breathed down the phone quietly.

“Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I’m starting to think I should’ve just taken the time off and gone with you.” Emily groaned into the phone from her desk.

“Oh I don’t want to hear it, I tried everything I could to get you to come along. And I mean everything. But you’re married to the job.” y/n replied with a tease.

“Aw, come on. I feel like I haven’t been here long enough to take three months off to follow my pop star girlfriend on her first-ever tour. Plus, it’s not like the world knows who you write all those love songs about anyway. And stop saying I’m married to the job, you know I hate that.” Emily all but whined.

“Right right right. Well, none of that matters now, because in just a few hours you’ll be front-row being serenaded for a good two hours.”

Emily grinned at the thought of having her girlfriend’s attention in a room full of fans. “Having my favorite singer’s attention in a room full of her adoring fans, sounds like a dream come true. What time should I get there?”

“Looks like this shoot is going to run over, so I might not be able to see you before the show. Either way, DeeDee has your name on the list already so you’ll be taken to your seat as soon as you’re there. Are you bringing anyone with you? I can give DeeDee their names too.” y/n rambled in thought.

Emily eyed the bullpen curiously, she hadn’t exactly thought to ask if anyone wanted to go with her. It felt a little too personal and after all this time on the team, she feared Garcia’s reaction to her having a serious girlfriend without her knowledge. “No, it’ll just be me. I’m sure everyone has plans. It is Friday after all.”

y/n chuckled softly at her girlfriend’s words, “Okay, make sure you text me when you get to the venue so I can let everyone know.”

“Yes ma’am. And after the show?” Emily asked hopefully. She really missed having her girlfriend home.

“I’m DC based for the next three months.” y/n grinned.

“Oh thank God.” Emily sighed in relief causing y/n to giggle softly.

“You can thank DeeDee for convincing the label to let me write and record here.”

“Well DeeDee has a very expensive bottle of wine with her name on it.”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the phone and Emily knew the signs all too well, “Listen Em, I’ve got to go. They’re ready for the next outfit. Remember to text me.”

“Okay, I will. I’ll see you later.” Emily smiled.

“Yes, see you later. Love you.” y/n whispered before ending the call and handing her phone back to her manager.

-

“Hi DC.” y/n spoke into the microphone with a bright smile. The room filled with cheers almost instantly as she spoke and her cheeks grew red under the praise. “Oh you all are too sweet. How are we feeling tonight?”

y/n scanned the audience waving happily until her eyes fell on the VIP area she’d requested for Emily. Her eyes lighting up instantly as she caught Emily with her hands cupped around her mouth cheering with the other fans in the room. Sending a wink in her direction y/n spoke in the mic, “You all look so beautiful tonight. Thank you so much for coming out to my final show on my first tour. It’s been so fun meeting and talking to everyone but I’m very happy to be home. With that being said, let make this the best show yet!”

-

Emily was on cloud nine. She was absolutely beaming with pride and she couldn’t think of any place she’d rather be. When y/n said she’d be serenading her all night, she really hadn’t been kidding. As much as she could without making it too obvious, she practically spent the last two hours gazing lovingly into Emily’s eyes. And Emily felt mighty special. Her favorite voice, just for her.

“DC you’ve been so amazing tonight. I don’t think I’ve felt this happy in a long time. My favorite city, in a room full of my favorite people. It’s so so good to be home.” y/n spoke as the band set up for the last song of the night. “As you all know, we’re on our very last song and as much as I hate to end this night– I’m so excited to sleep in my own bed.”

y/n sat on the stool center stage and shuffled some papers on her music stand with a smile. She looked over to Emily with a mischievous smile that had her heart trying to beat out of her chest.

“This last one is very very special to me. It’s my biggest song and the reason I’m even on this tour. But more importantly, it’s about the most important person in my life. My love, my light, my muse.” y/n spoke eyes trained on Emily the entire time. The room awed and cheered happily at the mention of their favorite artist’s secret girlfriend. “I’m lucky to have her here with me tonight and I know she’s going to hate me for this but I wanna do something a lil different for my last show. Em, will you sing with me?”

Emily’s face was beyond red. She was staring at her girlfriend in shock and awe. Not only had she just told this room of people she was the muse for most of her discography but now she wanted her to get up on the stage to sing with her. She was shaking her head in disbelief and fear before she could even think about it. And she looked at her girlfriend like she’d grown a second head.

This only made y/n smile more, “Please Em. You’re my favorite duet partner and I’ve missed singing with you more than anything.”

Emily was cracking. Between y/n’s words and the adorable pout she was sporting there was only so much more she could take from the woman she loved before giving in.

“Everyone, let’s give her some encouragement. Can we chant ‘Emily!’? y/n asked the audience and like the loyal fans they are, their screams filled the room. And there was really nothing Emily could do at that point. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she walked toward the stage looking extremely nervous as the room cheered.

y/n moved to help Emily up the stairs and onto the stage with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Emily grumbled softly as she rested her forehead against her girlfriend’s.

“Kinda surprised you came up.” y/n grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

“Well, you unfortunately know that i will do anything for you baby. and you sure know how to milk it.” Emily replied and smiled as y/n pulled her toward the stool. She sat Emily down and turned toward the crowd.

“Alright everybody, this is the last one. If you know it sing along.” y/n placed the microphone on the mic stand. She could practically feel Emily’s nerves radiating off of her but knew once this moment would live with them for as long as they lived. y/n stood between her legs and placed a kiss on her nose lovingly before cueing the band to start the song. “Just you and me, like at home.” She coaxed before she started singing the opening line of the song.

“Come to me slowly. It's when you talk close enough that I feel it on my skin, breathe it in.”

The room buzzed in anticipation when y/n nudged Emily softly and stroked her cheek in encouragement. Emily was nervous but she truly felt like she could do anything with her girlfriend’s eyes trained on her. “Most of these days I don’t get too intimate. Why would I let you in? But I think again.”

y/n smiled instantly, throwing in some of the background vocals while Emily sang. She started timidly but with the love shining in y/n’s eyes, she grew more confident with the words. Plus the cheers from the audience helped quite a bit. They joined together sweetly, Emily taking the melody and y/n harmonizing with her as they went. “I don’t even try. I don’t have to think. With you, there’s no pretending.”

When they got to the chorus y/n smiled and turned her head to the crowd, “Come on everyone, You know me, you know me. And I just might know you too.”

The smiles on both women’s faces were permanent as y/n pulled Emily up to dance with her across the stage. In a room surrounded by people who loved her girlfriend, she knew without a doubt that none of them could compete with her. They finished the song with the help of the crowd and when the music came to an end, everyone screamed their appreciation. y/n grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into center stage with a laugh.

“DC, give it up for the love of my life!” And despite y/n’s hand on the small of her back, Emily timidly tried to hide from the praise. The applause died down a bit and they wished everyone a farewell before heading backstage.

Finally in the quiet of her dressing room, y/n pulled Emily into a bruising kiss. Pulling away was not a priority, but when it became a necessity their foreheads rested together.

“DC give it up for the love of my life?” Emily teased.

“Yeah. That’s you.” y/n shrugged with a smile.

“Mmhmm, is that so?” Emily asked, squeezing her waist.

“It better be so. I’m sure it’s all over the internet by now babe.”

Emily groaned, “Of course it is. You are so lucky I love you.”

y/n shrugged with a smile and reached up to pinch Emily’s cheek, “Oh I know baby, and I wake up every morning so grateful. And lucky me, I get to wake up in your arms for the next three months.”

Emily sighed happily, pulling the singer into a hug. She mentally prayed for the serial killers of the world to chill out for the foreseeable future and kissed y/n’s head. “Welcome home my love.”

-

y/n

liked by prentissemily, and 9,000 others

dc, i love you. but not as much as i love em.

thank you for an amazing first tour. my heart is so full and i can’t wait for the next one. y/n 2 loading…

ps. whoever took that second picture— i owe you my LIFE

pennythegreat @prentissemily — rue when was this?

prentissemily literally what does this mean?

prentissemily my superstar xx

y/n my muse xx

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  

“Do you— do you need help with that?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  

They both tense.  

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[saphfix]

THE ART OF WINNING

01. WINNER’S MENTALITY

“WHEN YOU HEAR THE PHRASE WINNER’S MENTALITY, WHAT IS THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND?”

“Uh…” Anastasia nervously laughs, her mind shooting to one specific moment in her life. “Pretty much being told at sixteen years old that I wasn’t good enough, and never would be good enough.”

The interviewer nods, signaling for Anastasia to continue on. She shifts uncomfortably before clearing her throat to continue.

“Getting invited to USA Basketball was my dream come true. For a young basketball player—even for older basketball players—it feels like a rite of passage, a message to yourself that you’ve made it.”

Anastasia fiddles with her hands, the memory flooding back to her. “And that was the case for me, except, it didn’t take very long at all for it to end up becoming my worst nightmare instead.”

MAY 25TH, 2017

OLYMPIC TRAINING CENTER

COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO

The first day jitters were not wearing off. All day long they’ve seemed to have only gotten worse. It amazed Anastasia how people could connect with one another so easily.

One person in specific, Paige Bueckers, had everyone’s attention. The girl was already a well-known name, and was as close as a 15 year old could be to a professional.

But what really intrigued Anastasia about her was her charisma. How she managed to form friendships with some of the other girls who were also trying out in just a span of hours.

It took Anastasia years to connect with her highschool teammates back home, and she still isn’t nearly as close to any of them as they are with each other.

She watched on alone in the corner of the cafeteria, sliding her food around her plate in circles. Paige on the other hand, somehow had a full table of girls surrounding her, every single one of them laughing and reacting to whatever show she was currently putting on.

It was never that easy for Anastasia, and she fears it never will be.

When practice resumed, she instantly felt much better. That’s the beauty of a basketball court, when you’re on it everyone is the same, at least to a certain extent. It’s safe to say there are levels to it all, just like everything else in this world. Some people turn into an entirely different person when they step onto the laminated wood, but Anastasia doesn’t have that switch. It’s the thing that sets her apart from everyone else.

She’s static, always the same.

After returning to the bench for a group rotation, Anastasia was quick to notice the body language of the girl seated next to her. As soon as she sat down, the girl slightly turned away, as if Anastasia disgusted her or something.

Anastasia ignored it, wondering if she was thinking too much of it. That is until she realizes the girl seemed to be itching to tell her something.

“Do you have something to say—”

Almost immediately the girl cuts her off. “You’re too tense.” She says.

“Too tense?” Anastasia responds, taken aback. She screws the lid to her water bottle closed before setting it down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The girl never once looks in Anastasia’s direction, her eyes glued to the court. “When you’re bringing the ball up, you’re too tense, that’s why your shots not falling. You’re also not releasing them quick enough given your power is unbalanced throughout your whole body.”

Anastasia stares in disbelief. Her audacity is mind blowing.

“It should be effortless, a more fluid motion.” She continues on. “You should use more of the strength in your legs because right now, you look like you have a stick up your ass.”

“Excuse me?” Anastasia finally asks. It was almost scary how she was saying all of this with a straight face. She really meant every word leaving her lips, leaving Anastasia feeling more insecure than ever.

The whistle blows, meaning the next group was being rotated in. The girl stands to her feet, finally looking in Anastasia’s direction. “Just watch.”

And though Anastasia is still fuming with all the words she was ready to say looming around her mind, she watches. She watches as the large 223 painted across the brunettes practice jersey fades further away onto the court.

As soon as she gets ahold of the ball, she handles it like it’s not even there in her hands. She’s careless, almost too careless. You can tell by her stance, her gait, that confidence radiates off of her when she’s on the court.

She has the switch.

It almost feels like a slap in the face when she effortlessly pulls left and chucks up a 3 pointer at least five feet behind the arc, leaving her defender diving in an attempt to block. However, she comes up short, leaving Anastasia to watch in both awe and despair as it rattles in. The whistle blows faster than ever before, leaving some of the girls on the court and even some of the coaches jaw dropped.

She just ended a play in seconds without the ball ever entering anyone else’s hands.

Later that night, Anastasia found herself FaceTiming her parents, telling them about what she had seen earlier today. I mean, it was unforgettable.

In all honesty, it made her a little scared. These girls were all so good. She was starting to feel like maybe she was in over her head. That maybe making the team was just an unachievable and unrealistic dream.

“Honey, if you didn’t deserve to be there, you wouldn’t be.” Her dad comforts, the empathetic smile evident on his face.

He was always so understanding, so supportive. A far different approach from her mother, who always manages to crash the moment.

“You can’t just always live in fear.” Her mom routinely chirps up. Right on time. She always has something to counter what her father says. "Comparison kills." Her mother adds on.

“I don’t—" Anastasia begins, but sighs. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she knew her mom was right. She wasn't going to admit it out loud though. "It’s not living in fear or comparison to acknowledge the fact that some of these girls are better than me."

“And who says they’re better?” Her mom asks.

Anastasia chews on the inside of her cheek, staying silent. She has a point.

Her dad sighs before deciding to weigh in again. “You made it to next round with the rest of them meaning you’re just as good as they are, don’t forget that.”

Anastasia nods, her mind going back to the memory of what happened earlier. The way the girl’s eyes locked onto hers as she walked off the court, leaving Anastasia unsure if she was taunting her, or simply making sure she saw what she wanted her to see.

“Well, we love you Stas, You should get some rest." Her dad says.

“Yeah, I probably should. Love you guys too.” She says before hanging up.

MAY 26TH, 2017

58. Out of the 133 girls here yesterday, 58 remain. More than half of them were cut, leaving Anastasia feeling a little better about being invited back for day two.

Caitlin. Caitlin Clark was her name. Anastasia had finally figured it out after hearing it what felt like a million times today.

They’d been playing 5x5 all morning long, having gone through at least hundreds of different group combinations. During their break, Coach had conjured up a list of 12 assigned groups, each having what she felt was the best fit for all position combinations together.

Paige was assigned the PG for group one, Caitlin for group two, Anastasia for group three, and so on and so forth. Given there were 58 of them, each team needing five players, they were just barely short.

“We’re two short.” Coach informs everyone. “Groups 11 and 12 both need a shooting guard, any volunteers want to make this decision easy on your poor coach here?”

At first, no one says anything, everyone looking around at one another. The bystander effect was in full action.

“Don’t all jump at the opportunity at once.” Coach mumbles jokingly.

Anastasia studies both groups left, wondering if she should do it. Her mom’s words began echoing around her head. You can’t just always live in fear.

“I’ll do it.” Caitlin volunteers. Everyone now looks at Caitlin, some whispering picking up around the room.

“Shooting guard.” Coach reiterates. Caitlin shrugs, her face stoic as if she doesn’t care one bit about the minor difference in position. “Well alright.” Coach says, impressed.

“I’ll do it too.” Paige and Anastasia say at the same time. Anastasia looks over at her before stepping forward further. “I’ll do it.” She says again.

Paige throws her hands up concedingly. “Ight, you got it.”

Coach claps, satisfied at the resolved issue. “Perfect. Groups one and two are going first. Winners and losers bracket, you all should know the ropes.”

The groups dismantle, groups one and two staying on the court, the rest heading to the bleachers. Anastasia begins on her way after everyone else, before she notices footsteps following behind her.

“Why did you do that?” Caitlin asks.

“Why did I do what?” Anastasia asks continuing to walk towards the bleachers.

Caitlin grabs onto her arm, pulling her to face her. “Why did you volunteer?”

Anastasia looks down at Caitlin’s hand before snatching her arm away. “Someone had to.”

“Paige tried, you should’ve let her.”

“And why’s that?” Anastasia asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but just stay out of my way.” Caitlin threatens.

“Or what?” Anastasia asks without hesitation. Caitlin almost looks taken aback by the response. Almost. “Or what?” Anastasia repeats.

“Caitlin, come on!” Coach calls from the court.

Caitlin stares her down, before slowly turning away, lightly jogging back to the court.

What the fuck was her problem?

Anastasia finds a lone seat on the bleachers, making it her own personal mission to study every inch of Caitlin’s gameplay possible. More specifically, what she was best at, and what she was worst at.

It didn't take much time for Anastasia to pinpoint her fatal flaw. Defense. The girl couldn't play defense if her life depended on it. Actually, it wasn't that she couldn't, it was like she just didn't want to. She looked miserable whenever she didn't have the ball and it showed. Bingo.

Anastasia notes that to herself, while also making sure to study her shooting and passing patterns, which seems to be her strong suit. She will make sure she goes against Caitlin in the final match, whether it be in the winners bracket or the losers bracket. Hell, maybe even both.

Caitlin's group manages the win over Paige's group thanks to some lucky out of this world pass Caitlin managed to just barely get inside to her post player.

"Alright groups three and four next!" Coach yells out from the whiteboard while writing group one into the losers bracket and group two into the winners.

Anastasia stands up, walking her way down the bleachers. She comes into earshot of Caitlin and Paige's conversation as she walks by.

"Damn." Paige curses once they're off the court, Caitlin giving her a gentle pat to the shoulder.

"Better luck next time." Caitlin laughs. "I bet you'll kill 'em over in the losers bracket though."

Anastasia wonders what magic Paige is really working with to get into Caitlin's good graces.

Maybe Anastasia was the problem.

Anastasia meets up with her group, and they quickly go over a few potential game plans. She can still hear Caitlin and Paige's conversation continuing on behind her, their laughter and banter a little more distracting than she'd wish it to be.

Once her team decides that they've got down few good plays, they head towards the court.

"Hey, you!" Paige calls out. Anastasia contemplates turning around but doesn't, figuring there's no chance she was talking to her. "Number 120!" Paige yells out again, Anastasia freezing in her tracks. She double checks her jersey number before slowly turning around.

"You better win so you can avenge me." Paige smiles.

Caitlin shoves Paige halfheartedly, letting out a laugh. She doesn't say it very loud, but Anastasia is fairly good at reading lips, and she swears Caitlin says, "No chance."

"I got you." Anastasia yells back to Paige, Caitlin's smile immediately wiping off her face.

She was going to destroy Caitlin Clark.

“HUMILITY, CAITLIN, IT’S SOMETHING YOU FOUND HARD TO LEARN EARLY ON IN YOUR LIFE. WHAT IMPORTANCE DOES IT HOLD NOW, AND LOOKING BACK, DO YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE OF IT THEN?”

“I’ve always had humility.” Caitlin defends. “I was young, yeah. Naive, sure. A nuisance, possibly…but I was never not humble.”

“What about USA basketball, were you an asshole then?” The reporter asks.

Caitlin furrows her eyebrows, sitting up even straighter in her chair. “Asshole? What makes you ask that?”

“No reason at all, that’s just a very important staple to your story.” The reporter half lies. “Tell us about your experience there.”

“It was great.” Caitlin lies.

The reporter shakes her head, not satisfied with the answer. “The truth.”

Caitlin sighs. “It’s one of my most regretted experiences in my life, is that what you want to hear?”

MAY 26TH, 2017

Caitlin Clark felt murderous. Anastasia’s team had won, moving them further in the bracket as well. She couldn’t believe Anastasia thinks she can beat her. It was all Caitlin could think about as she watches Anastasia sit at the bottom of the bleachers all alone.

Why wasn’t she attempting to connect with anyone around her?

Paige smacks Caitlin’s shoulder. “Yo, stop staring.”

“I’m not staring.” Caitlin lies. She turns around to face Paige, who was sitting awfully close to another player, Azzi. “Do you think she’s good?” Caitlin asks.

“Well she’s here, isn’t she?” Azzi answers sarcastically.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Come on, ask what you really wanna ask.” Paige says.

“What?” Caitlin asks.

“You wanna know if we think she’s better than you.” Paige laughs.

“No.” Caitlin scoffs. “I know she’s not better than me.”

“Geez, cocky much?” Azzi asks.

“Whatever.” Caitlin’s eyes find Anastasia again, who was now stretching her arms over her head. “Why do you think she’s not talking to anyone?”

“If you wanna talk to her just say that.” Paige teases, kneeing Caitlin in the back. “Want me to call her over?”

“No—”

“What’s her name?” Paige asks Azzi, ignoring Caitlin’s pleads.

“Stop don’t—” Caitlin interjects, just to be ignored again.

Azzi smirks before cupping her hands over her mouth. “Anastasia!”

Anastasia turns around and Caitlin glares at Azzi. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Caitlin asks.

Azzi waves her over and Anastasia stands, slowly making her way over. “Because now you can talk to her!” Azzi smiles.

“I hate you.” Caitlin mutters.

“I hate you more.” Azzi replies.

“Yes?” Anastasia questions slowly once she finally reaches the three of them, a confused looks on her face.

“Sit with us!” Azzi pats the spot in front of her with her foot.

Anastasia looks at the spot, then looks at Caitlin who’s in the spot right next to it. Caitlin avoids her gaze, looking back at the court.

“Okay, I guess.” Anastasia agrees, brushing past Caitlin.

“Where you from?” Paige asks, sitting up to start the conversation.

“Michigan.”

“Oh shit no way!” Paige gawks. “Michigan is sick.”

“Have you ever even been to Michigan?” Azzi laughs.

“Man!” Paige sucks her teeth. “Now you know I live right next door to Michigan, of course I’ve been!”

“What about you guys?” Anastasia asks.

“Virginia.” Azzi answers.

“Minnesota.” Paige says with a fake midwestern accent.

Anastasia nods, letting out a small laugh. “Cool.” She glances over at Caitlin, who once again pretends she doesn’t notice. “What about you?”

“Iowa.” Caitlin deadpans.

“Iowa…that’s a first.” Anastasia says, getting a laugh out of Paige and Azzi.

“Yeah, I’m one of a kind.” Caitlin says.

“Cocky.” Azzi mutters under her breath.

“Corny.” Paige whispers at the same time. The whistle blows, and the four of them look back to the court simultaneously. “Damn group nine won?” Paige asks.

“That’s a shocker.” Azzi says.

“Not really.” Caitlin counters. “Great offense trumps anything.”

“Of course you think that.” Anastasia criticizes, standing to her feet.

“Damn Caitlin, you gon take that?” Paige instigates, receiving a smack to the shoulder from Azzi.

“Stop trying to start shit!”

Caitlin stands to her feet, sizing up Anastasia. “Nah, I’m not gonna take that, I’m just gonna let my work on the court do the talking.”

“Famous last words.” Anastasia says, pushing past Caitlin. “You’ve never come across good D like this.”

“Yo pause!” Paige laughs, receiving another smack from Azzi.

“Stop being a freak!”

“If you think you’re taking both of your teams past quarterfinals, you’re delusional.” Caitlin says from behind Anastasia.

“Do you always speak before you think?” Anastasia asks continuing on her way down the bleachers.

“I speak and think at the same time, it’s called multitasking.”

“Right.” Anastasia laughs. Once she reaches the bottom of the bleachers she turns to face Caitlin, who was still coming down. She blocks her from exiting the last step, offering her a smile. “No matter what happens out there, I want you to remember that you’re a great player.”

“What is this, reverse psychology?” Caitlin laughs, attempting to get around Anastasia.

Anastasia steps infront of her again, keeping her position. “No, it’s good sportsmanship, ever heard of it?”

“Move.” Caitlin demands.

“Good luck out there.” Anastasia says, offering Caitlin a hand. Caitlin looks down at it before pushing past her, continuing onto the court. “Hey!” Anastasia shouts up to Paige who looks down. “This is for you.”

‘THE ART OF WINNING’ MASTERLIST

[paddockletters]

racing hearts | lando norris ft. jude bellingham

paring: lando norris x reader jude bellingham x reader summary: Mia, a sports analyst caught between the worlds of football and F1, finds herself drawn to both Jude Bellingham and Lando Norris. Amidst the excitement of their glamorous lives, a pivotal moment forces her to confront her feelings, leaving her future uncertain and filled with possibility. author's note: Hope you liked it, teel me if you want a second part maybe... Well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

Mia sat in the bustling café near the stadium, nursing a flat white as she scanned the latest highlights from the football matches on her phone. A sea of fans swarmed outside, their cheers echoing through the streets of Birmingham, but her mind was far from the beautiful game—or so she told herself. She had an important interview with Jude Bellingham that afternoon, and deep down, she wasn’t quite sure how it would go.

As she scrolled through her feed, a message dinged in from Lando Norris, her recently acquired contact via social media. "Fancy a catch-up? Just finished practice and could do with a laugh. Let’s grab a bite!"

Mia grinned, recalling their effortless banter from the charity event a few weeks back. "Absolutely! How about that café by the stadium?"

Within moments, a new message appeared: "Deal! Just don’t spill your drink this time, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to drown on me."

She chuckled, recalling the time she’d nearly snorted coffee when he showed her a video of his latest racing antics. Lando had a way of making every conversation feel like a joyride—safe but exhilarating.

Having finished her drink, Mia slipped her phone into her bag just as a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

“Oi! Mia!” Jude's voice was as warm as the sun peeking through the clouds outside. Dressed in a casual tracksuit, his presence was magnetic. Her nervousness melted away as he approached.

“Mister Bellingham! Thanks for meeting me,” she replied, standing to embrace him with a light hug. “You know it’s not every day I get to chat with a superstar.”

“A bit of an overstatement, isn’t it?” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, an endearing nervous habit. “But I’m chuffed to have you here! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

As they settled into a booth, Jude leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, are you going to tell me how close you are to Lando Norris, or should I be worried?”

Mia felt her cheeks heat up, but she brushed it off. “What? We’re just mates! He’s a laugh, you know? Good vibes all around!”

“Right, of course.” Jude raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Just keep your lips sealed about my dodgy free kicks, and we’re golden.”

They moved on to chatting about football, with Jude discussing his goals for the season and Mia sharing her experiences dissecting games for the network. As she listened, she was struck by his sincerity and genuine passion for the sport.

"Honestly, it’s not just about the glory, you know? It’s about the love for the game,” Jude said, his eyes gleaming with fervour. “Every time I step on that pitch, it’s like I’m living my dream.”

“I get that completely! You can see it in how you play, Jude. It’s inspiring,” Mia replied, feeling a sense of awe wash over her.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and in walked Lando, all energy and charm. He spotted Mia and Jude instantly, making a beeline towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Look who it is! The lovely Mia and Mr. Bellingham!” Lando said, sliding into the booth with the confidence of a man who knew he belonged. “What’s the secret meeting about? Planning world domination or just scheming how to beat me in a race?”

“Beat you in a race? I’d rather stick to football, thanks,” Jude quipped, grinning back as he leaned back, clearly at ease.

Mia watched the two banter back and forth, their easy camaraderie adding to her internal conflict. She felt a tug between their worlds—Jude's grounded seriousness and Lando’s lively and flamboyant spirit.

“Come on, Mia, you should ditch the footie for a day and give racing a go,” Lando insisted, playfully nudging her shoulder. “I’ll take you for a spin. Just try not to scream, alright? My driving’s top-notch.”

“And your humour is bottom-tier,” Jude interjected, but there was no bite to his words. They all laughed, but Mia noticed the intensity in Jude's gaze as he looked at her. It was surprising and new, igniting a flutter in her stomach.

“You should, though,” he said softly, turning serious for a moment. “It’s thrilling. You’d love it. The adrenaline is like nothing else.”

Just then, a flare of tension filled the air. Mia felt the atmosphere shift as she glanced between both of them—two incredible athletes with undeniable chemistry, each vying for more than just friendship.

Mia shifted in her seat, her heart racing with the unspoken tension between Jude and Lando. The café's vibrant atmosphere seemed to fade as she focused on the exchange unfolding before her.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that someday,” Mia said, attempting to lighten the mood. She looked at Lando, who still wore his characteristic grin. “But I think I’m better off sticking to my day job—at least until I’ve had some more practice.”

“Fair enough,” Lando said with a wink. “But remember, I’m always here for a joyride if you change your mind.”

Jude cleared his throat, his tone turning more earnest. “And if you ever need a break from racing or football, you know where to find me. I’m always up for a chat or a quick kickabout.”

Mia smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She admired both men for their dedication and passion, but the emotional stakes of their unspoken feelings were beginning to weigh on her.

“Thanks, both of you. That means a lot,” Mia said, her voice slightly trembling. “It’s not often I get to hang out with two of the most amazing athletes in their fields.”

They continued their conversation, but Mia’s mind was preoccupied with the growing realization of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. The way Jude’s eyes softened when he spoke, the genuine support he offered—he was everything she’d ever wanted in a partner, but there was also Lando, whose spontaneous charm and zest for life had quickly captured her heart.

As the afternoon wore on, Jude and Lando’s playful banter persisted, but Mia’s thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t long before they had to part ways, each with their own commitments and schedules.

“See you around, Mia,” Jude said, giving her a friendly hug. “And good luck with everything. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks, Jude,” Mia replied, her heart aching slightly at the thought of parting from him. “I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Lando approached next, offering a mischievous grin. “Don’t let Jude scare you off football too much. And remember, there’s always a seat in my car if you need a break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mia said, feeling a pang of regret as she returned his hug. “Take care, Lando.”

As she watched them leave, Mia felt the weight of her dilemma settle heavily on her shoulders. Her feelings for Jude and Lando were genuine, but the intensity of their emotions and the complexity of her own heart made the situation increasingly challenging.

She stood by the window of the café, watching the crowd outside, her mind awash with thoughts and feelings. The choice she faced wasn’t just about choosing between two incredible men but also about finding her own path in this tangled web of emotions. The football season and F1 calendar would continue, and so would the world of sports, but for Mia, the real race was against the growing confusion within her heart.

Mia took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She knew she needed time to figure things out—time to understand her own heart and desires. As she walked away from the café, her steps were lighter, her mind clearer, even as her heart remained caught in the exhilarating whirlwind of racing hearts.

The following weeks were a whirlwind for Mia as she juggled her work responsibilities with the emotional turbulence of her personal life. Between analyzing game footage for football matches and covering F1 races, Mia found little time for herself. Yet, the ongoing saga of her feelings for Jude and Lando was never far from her mind.

One crisp autumn morning, Mia was at the edge of her seat, covering a crucial football match. Jude's team had a major game, and she was busy preparing her pre-match report. Her phone buzzed with a message from Lando:

"Race day tomorrow. Let’s catch up before I hit the track. I’ve got something special planned."

Mia’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Lando. She hadn’t seen him since their café meeting, and his playful promise of something special intrigued her.

She replied, "Sounds great! Where should we meet?"

“Meet me at the paddock early. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you,” Lando’s reply came swiftly.

The next day, Mia arrived at the F1 paddock, the excitement of race day palpable in the air. Lando greeted her with his usual exuberance. “Hey, Mia! Ready for the surprise?”

“Absolutely. What’s the plan?” Mia asked, trying to hide her anticipation.

“Just follow me,” Lando said with a grin.

He led her to a private area near the track, away from the hustle and bustle. A sleek, custom race car was parked there, its colors dazzling under the sun.

“This is for you,” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I thought you might enjoy a spin in one of these beauties before the race.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Lando replied, laughing. “It’s all safe. I promise.”

As they drove around the track, the speed and adrenaline were exhilarating. Lando’s presence beside her was both comforting and thrilling. They shared a few moments of laughter and awe, the world outside the car blurring into a streak of colors.

When they returned to the paddock, Mia felt a mix of elation and nervousness. Lando’s charm had rekindled her earlier feelings, making it harder to focus on her work.

Later that evening, as Mia prepared to cover the football match, she spotted Jude in the stadium’s VIP section. He was watching the game with intense focus, and Mia’s heart did a little flip. She took a deep breath and walked over to greet him.

“Hey, Jude!” she said, trying to sound casual despite her racing heart.

“Hey, Mia,” Jude responded warmly. “How was the day? I hope Lando didn’t drive you too crazy.”

“Not at all,” Mia said with a smile. “He gave me an unforgettable ride.”

As the match went on, Mia found herself caught between two worlds. Jude’s passion for football was magnetic, and his presence was comforting. She admired his dedication and the way he spoke about the game with such love and enthusiasm.

At the end of the match, Jude walked with Mia to the stadium’s exit, his hand lightly brushing against hers. “You’ve been working so hard. How about we grab a drink sometime soon, just the two of us?”

Mia hesitated, feeling the weight of her feelings for both Jude and Lando. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Later that night, as Mia lay in bed, her thoughts were a tangled mess of emotions. The thrill of the racetrack and Lando’s infectious energy contrasted sharply with Jude’s sincere and grounded nature. She felt torn, unable to fully embrace either relationship without feeling guilty or conflicted.

As the weeks went by, Mia began to realize that she needed to take a step back and focus on herself. She continued to enjoy her time with both Jude and Lando but knew that her decision would come in time.

In a heart-to-heart conversation with a close friend, Mia admitted her confusion.

“I care about both of them, but I need to figure out what I really want. It’s not fair to them or to myself if I don’t.”

Her friend nodded in understanding. “Sometimes, the best way to make a decision is to listen to your own heart and take a step back. You’ve got to find what truly makes you happy.”

With that advice in mind, Mia decided to embrace a period of self-discovery. She focused on her career and passions, allowing herself the space to understand her own desires without the pressure of choosing between Jude and Lando.

As time went on, Mia’s clarity grew. She realized that her journey was about more than just choosing between two incredible people. It was about finding herself and her own path in a world filled with excitement and uncertainty. And while her heart was still intertwined with both Jude and Lando, she knew that the future held possibilities she was eager to explore—both in love and in her own life.

As the winter months settled in, Mia’s internal struggle began to weigh heavily on her. Her career was flourishing, and she had become a respected figure in the sports world, but the personal turmoil involving Jude and Lando remained unresolved.

Jude and Mia’s friendship grew more complex. Jude had been patient and understanding, always present and supportive. Their conversations often lingered on deeper topics, and Jude’s gentle affection began to take on a more romantic tone. His heartfelt gestures and considerate actions made it increasingly difficult for Mia to ignore the feelings that were developing.

On the other hand, Lando’s presence was a whirlwind of excitement. He continued to charm her with his spontaneous adventures and infectious laughter. His adventurous spirit and playful demeanor had become a refreshing escape from the pressures of her daily life. Yet, the intensity of their interactions was unmistakable, and Lando’s occasional hints about their future together left Mia feeling both exhilarated and overwhelmed.

The tipping point came during a major sports gala in London, where both Jude and Lando were in attendance. Mia had been invited to cover the event, and the evening promised to be a glamorous affair. She arrived early to prepare, her thoughts occupied by the weight of her decisions.

As she mingled with guests and conducted interviews, Jude approached her with a serious look in his eyes. “Mia, can we talk?”

“Of course,” Mia replied, her heart racing as she followed him to a quieter corner of the venue.

Jude took a deep breath, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. “I know things have been complicated, and I respect that you need time. But I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with just being friends. I care about you deeply, and I want more. I need to know where you stand.”

Mia was taken aback by his honesty. “Jude, I—”

Before she could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin replaced by a more somber expression. “Hey, Mia. Can I have a word with you too?”

Jude looked at Lando, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure, Lando. Go ahead.”

Lando led Mia to the edge of the gala hall, away from prying eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I know I’ve been a bit of a whirlwind, and maybe I didn’t give you the space you needed. But I really care about you, Mia. More than I’ve let on. I know this is probably the last thing you need right now with everything going on, but I had to tell you."

Mia’s head spun as she looked between the two men. Both Jude and Lando had laid their feelings bare, and the pressure felt overwhelming. She had been avoiding this moment for weeks, trying to focus on her career and navigate the swirl of media attention, but now she had to face it head-on.

Rumors about her relationships had been flying for some time. Tabloids were constantly speculating, printing photos of her with Jude at a café, or Lando sneaking her into the paddock for a quick joyride. It was getting harder to ignore. The attention had shifted from her work to her personal life, and it was affecting her more than she liked to admit.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” Mia admitted, her voice wavering as she finally spoke. “This whole situation has been a lot, and I’ve been trying to figure it out myself. The media, the rumors... it’s been so intense. I care about both of you, but I’ve been struggling to even think clearly.”

Jude’s face softened, his usually confident demeanor giving way to concern. “I had no idea you were feeling like that. You don’t have to decide anything right now, Mia. But just know that whatever happens, I’ll respect your space and your choices.”

Lando shifted uneasily, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looked away for a moment. “Yeah, same here. I didn’t mean to add pressure. I just wanted you to know how I feel. We can take it slow—whatever you need.”

Mia felt her eyes welling up as the weight of the situation finally hit her. “Thank you, both of you. I just need some time to think about what’s best for me.”

Jude nodded, stepping back to give her space. “Take all the time you need, Mia. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

Lando gave her a small smile, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with something softer. “I’ll be around, too. And hey, no matter what, we’re mates first.”

Mia let out a shaky breath, feeling both relieved and conflicted as she watched the two men walk away. The media could say what they wanted, but this decision was hers to make, and she knew it wouldn’t be easy.

With that, Mia felt a mixture of relief and sadness. She knew that her decision would not be easy, and the road ahead was uncertain. As the gala continued around them, she watched Jude and Lando walk away in opposite directions, each carrying a piece of her heart with them.

As she left the gala that night, the city lights shimmering in the distance, Mia knew one thing for certain: before she could choose between Jude and Lando, she had to choose herself first. And that was going to take more than just a headline or a rumor to figure out.

In the days that followed, Mia took a step back from both Jude and Lando, focusing on her career and personal growth. The break allowed her to gain perspective and eventually led to a deeper understanding of her own desires and needs.

Months later, at a quiet café where it all began, Mia sat alone, sipping her coffee. She looked out the window, reflecting on the tumultuous journey she had experienced. The thrill of the racing tracks and the passion of the football fields had left their marks on her, but it was the time she spent finding herself that truly shaped her path.

As the café door chimed open, Mia saw a familiar face—Jude. He approached her with a warm smile, and they exchanged a simple, heartfelt greeting.

“Hey, Jude,” Mia said, her voice steady and genuine. “It’s been a while. How are things with you?”

“Hey, Mia,” Jude replied, his smile tinged with a hint of sadness. “Things have been good, just keeping busy with the season. I’ve been thinking about you. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing well,” Mia said, feeling a sense of calm. “I’ve been focusing on my work and taking some time for myself.”

Jude nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and regret. “I’m glad to hear you’re finding your balance. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you ever want to talk or need anything.”

Mia smiled, appreciating his words. “Thanks, Jude. That means a lot.”

As Jude turned to leave, Mia’s phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Lando.

“Hey, Mia. I hope you’re doing alright. I know things have been complicated lately. I’m in Monaco, but I’d really like to catch up when I’m back. Maybe we can figure things out over coffee? Just let me know.”

Mia read the message and felt a surge of conflicting emotions. She was touched by Lando’s sincerity, but also felt the weight of her own unresolved feelings.

Sipping her coffee, Mia gazed out the window, contemplating the paths before her. Both Jude and Lando had made a significant impact on her life, each in their own way. She realized that no matter which direction she chose, it would come with its own set of challenges and opportunities.

With a thoughtful sigh, Mia responded to Lando’s message, “I’d like that. Let’s talk when you’re back. Thanks for reaching out.”

As she sent the message, Mia knew that the future was uncertain but full of possibilities. She was ready to explore what lay ahead, with the potential for new beginnings and meaningful connections. The decision of who to pursue—or whether to pursue either—was still to be made, but for now, Mia was open to whatever the journey would bring.

The café bustled with activity around her, a reflection of the vibrant life she was living, and Mia felt a renewed sense of hope and curiosity about the future.

[starriislxt]

SAFE AROUND YOU ✰

⁀➷ rafe cameron x fem!reader | duration: 565

description: you wake up in the middle of the night, seeking comfort in your boyfriends arms.

content: sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ hurt ﾉ comfort ﾉ written with black!reader in mind but can be read as what you imagine.

notes: my first rafe fic!! technically its not my first one cause i’m working on another fic with him but that one is taking me a while to finish but i’m happy that i got this done so i can post it. i hope you guys like it, i’m a bit nervous.

masterlist 𐙚 previous fic 𐙚 taglist

Your eyes flutter open, letting out a soft gasp as you sit up in bed, taking a look at your surroundings  as you try to calm your heavy breathing.

“Stay calm (name), it was just a dream…. just a dream. No need to panic,” your eyes lock on to Sarah’s sleeping body, the small urge to wake her up is there in your mind but you decide not to, you don't want to bother her.

You sit there in the dark for a while, debating on whether you try going back to sleep but you’re scared after the nightmare you just witnessed.

No matter what you do, you can't calm your beating heart or the heavy breathing that follows behind it, you get out of bed, letting your feet choose the direction you go in not even noticing where you were going until you stop in front of Rafe’s door.

You know that you’d feel comfortable in his arms because you always felt the most safe with him as he was your boyfriend but Sarah, your best friend, didn’t know that you’re in a relationship with her brother. You decided it was best to keep it on the low before you told her about the relationship.

You give the door a soft knock before entering, only to notice he’s fast asleep, you didn’t want to interrupt him so you turn to leave. “(Name)?” Rafe spoke in a low raspy voice, stopping you in your tracks, turning to face him as he sat up in his bed.

“What’s wrong?” He softly asks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Um… it’s nothing, I just had a bad dream… I couldn’t sleep so I thought to come to see if you’re up but it’s fine, go back to sleep.”

“Baby, you can always wake me up, no matter if I’m asleep or not, you come first,” he says, opening his arms wide indicating you to come to him and you do just that, climbing into his bed, getting comfortable while he wraps his arms around you; pulling you closer to him as you lay your head against his chest

Being in his arms, you immediately feel safe, your heart beat calming down and the shift in your breathing changes as you listen to the beat of his heart beat. You've been in relationships before but none have ever made you feel the way you do with him.

You stay in the position for a few minutes longer until sleep falls upon you once again, not wanting to move from his arms, just yet. “You can sleep with me.” Rafe comments, once he knows that you have calmed down; knowing that you would be more comfortable with him.

“You know I can’t, not with your sister in the other room. What if she catches us?” You query, looking up into his blue eyes, the smile you love sitting on his face. “She won’t, my love. I’ll make sure to wake you up before she does, I promise.” He reassures, sticking out his pinky towards you and you hook yours around his.

“Now sleep, love.” Rafe softly adds on, kissing your cheeks while caressing your back and soon after, your eyelids flutter close as sleep is no longer inevitable and your snores can be heard, eliciting a big smile out of him knowing that you’re safe in his arms.

comments: @cherriespopsicle.

end of video. — all rights reserved © starriislxt 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 5)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, this chapter is just smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, cum eating, nipple play, whiff of breeding kink (I'm very funny), biting, reader has a nightmare that's a little graphic but brief, Wade is very annoying lmao Author's note: I can't believe it's over!!!! It's insane to me how much love and support this had gotten :') I just want to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! Please enjoy! <3 Tags (if I forgot someone I'm so sorry!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @amararosesblog @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires @harryshousewhore @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy @geckosssssss

The next few days were a haze of food, sleeping, tender touches, and above all else, comfort. Most days I awoke to Wade cuddling close. Logan was too much of an early riser to stay in bed. He would get antsy the longer he lingered, grumbling about how he couldn’t just lay around all day. But I found that sleepy smiles and little nibbles to his jaw could convince him to stay. Even more so if I just happened to push my butt against his hips. 

My leg was healing well, the bruise fading to a dull purple after a few days. The pain was manageable but it always hurt in those first few hours of the day. Wade was more than happy to rub and kiss at my skin every morning. I stopped needing the painkillers during the day but Logan insisted I take one before bed to minimize any discomfort in the morning. It was easy to sleep with the numbing effects pumping through me. My body would feel heavy, my mind quiet and still. I never dreamed. I simply closed my eyes and awoke to the morning sun. 

But I was getting better. So I opted to not take one on their last night with me. It was hard to calm my racing mind and I tossed and turned before Logan snapped a heavy arm around me. “Do you want one?” He sleepily asked. Wade was already out, flat on his back, mouth open. Both of them were able to fall asleep in moments, a skill born from their military service, but Logan was unfortunately a light sleeper. 

“No,” I mumbled, tucking my head under his chin, running my nose along his throat. He had showered before getting into bed so the woody scent of his body wash was strong on his skin. “I need to stop relying on them, need to sleep on my own.” He hummed but stayed quiet. One of his big hands slipped under my shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto my skin. 

I was on the chair again but my limbs were free. I stood, looking around. No one was here. The concrete room was quiet and cold. I walked slowly to the large door, peaking through the small window. 

Nothing. 

Swallowing, I pulled it open. To my right was endless darkness and to the left was an infinite hallway. Something shifted in the darkness as I lingered. I quickly turned to the left. There were no windows or doors as I walked. 

I heard something over my shoulder. When I glanced behind, it looked like I had made no progress, the darkness still close to me. My pace quickened. I heard the sound again. A low gurgle. 

I could see a window at the end of the hallway, sunlight painted across the floor. A hand ran through my hair and I started to run. Whatever was behind me ran too. 

“Sweetheart.” 

The sunlight wasn’t getting any closer. 

But whatever was behind me was. 

I felt their breath along my neck. Cold needles pricked all along my spine. I couldn’t run any harder or any faster. Something caught my foot and sent me sprawling. Before I could scramble away, a hand latched around my leg, dragging me deeper into the darkness. I screamed, nails ripping at the concrete. 

“You’re safe, come on baby, wake up.” 

Then I was forced onto my back to look up at my attacker. It was him. His face was half gone, eyeball hanging from a destroyed socket, brain oozing and pulsating. I tried to fight him off, clawing uselessly at his mangled face. 

He glared down at me, hot blood splattering across my cheeks from his exposed skull. Then he held up the knife before plunging it deep into my chest. I wailed, fighting with everything I had. 

“Come on, you gotta wake up for me.” 

The knife tore from me with a disgusting sucking noise. Then he drove it in, again, and again. 

I sat bolt up straight, chest heaving as I panted. Cold sweat misted my skin and my clothes stuck to it. My eyes were cloudy from unshed tears. With shaking hands, I rubbed at them, and found something warm speckling my face. 

It was blood. 

“You back with us?” The voice was soft but I still jumped. Logan was also sitting up, his body tense. I could see four distinct scratches along his cheek in the weak moonlight. I let out a sob, clambering into his lap, arms latched tight around his shoulders. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He lifted the quilt over me and wrapped it tight. It didn’t stop my shivering. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Should have known better than trying to touch you while you were having a nightmare.” I kept readjusting my hold, trying to find the position with the most contact. I wanted to crawl inside him, be encased in warmth and comfort. “It’s okay,” he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands were under my shirt again, fingers digging into the tense muscles of my lower back. He let me shudder and cling to him for a few minutes, sobbing onto his shoulder, the skin quickly becoming slick with tears. “What do you need, princess?” 

“Just you, please,” I lifted my head from his shoulder, “just you.” Our mouths hovered close and he nearly went cross eyed to keep me in focus. Then he nodded. The kiss was sloppy and desperate but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him against me. He let me take charge, one hand braced on the back of my neck. For once, I wished he had worn a shirt just so I could grip it tight. I settled on digging my fingers into his hair. It had gotten long, trailing along the nape of his neck. The longer I kissed him, the more solidly in my body I felt. My head felt clearer as the last of the nightmare ebbed away. 

He was making these soft, tiny groans against my lips that made heat trickle through my veins. I needed more. My hands went to my shirt but Logan stopped me, his lips pulling back, forehead against mine. 

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled, collecting both of my wrists in one of his. “You aren’t thinking clearly.” 

“Says who?” I wiggled, trying to snake out from his grip. I knew it was impossible. But as I shifted, I felt something press against my stomach and Logan let out a faint groan when I pushed myself against it again. “You don’t get to make that decision.” 

“I can smell how scared you are.” 

“I’m not.” I sounded like a petulant child. I was scared. But I craved him and Wade. I wanted to let go, let them chase away all my worries, feel their skin against mine. 

“Relax, take a deep breath,” Logan hummed, ignoring my useless protest. The grip on my wrists had loosened and I took advantage, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. Anger was swirling up in me. 

“Stop telling me what I want. I thought you said you would give me anything I needed. Why is it so hard for you to think I might need you? Might need to feel…” I stumbled over the word I wanted to use, loved. Logan’s face relaxed, the worry leeching away, a soft affection replacing it. 

“Just don’t want you to rush into anything just because you’re scared, that your emotions are in high gear.” I huffed. 

“Then help me calm down,” I pleaded, kissing his scratchy cheek. “I know you and Wade will take good care of me.” He groaned, the sound low in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I whispered as I nipped the corner of his jaw. My nails lightly scraped along his chest as I waited for his response. 

“Okay,” Logan sighed, tilting his head back to allow me to bite and kiss at the newly exposed skin. “We can do that for you sweetheart.” I kept up my assault on his neck, marveling at the bruises disappearing seconds after I had placed them. “Are you done pretending to sleep now?” 

“I was just watching. We need to work on your self-confidence, peanut.” I shouldn’t have been surprised Wade was awake, and even less shocked that he’s been observing us. The bed behind me shifted and Logan spread his legs to accommodate Wade’s body. “If a hot piece like this is begging for sex, you shouldn’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.” Logan growled, his palms hot as they skated over my ass, before dipping into my panties, gripping the flesh. I rolled my hips over his and was rewarded by a small hitch in his breathing. 

“It’s not my confidence, I just need her with us to do this.“ His voice dipped, soft and sweet again,”lean back for me baby.” I do as he asked, back flush with Wade’s chest. Wade’s lips immediately descended on my throat and he cupped my breasts through my shirt. My eyelids grew heavy as he started to circle my nipples, the fabric a pleasant scrape. “Lift her up a bit,” Logan commanded. Wade curled one arm around my waist, easily raising me an inch or two off of Logan’s lap. 

Logan’s fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, his eyes never moving from my face, examining every expression. He moved between my legs, the pad of his middle finger brushing my clit. I wasn’t wet or turned on enough, yet, for that simple touch to do anything, but I still pushed my hips forward, craving more. Wade nuzzled his face into my neck, sucking at the skin. That made me whine. Logan moved in languid motions over my clit, not too firm, and just enough to reignite the warmth inside me. 

Wade removed his lips from my thoroughly spit covered neck and made a satisfied humming noise at the sight. “So beautiful.” He released my breasts and I opened my mouth to protest but he slipped under my shirt to resume his treatment before I could. 

“Go back to kissing her neck, she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” I nod, biting my lip as Wade tweaks my nipples. Logan’s middle finger traces around my entrance, collecting my slick, but going back to my clit, the new wetness making his finger glide easier. 

“He gets so bossy in bed,” Wade huffed. “Next time I’m in control.” Logan’s fingers suddenly left me and I gasped in shock. He reached up, his two middle fingers extended, pointed towards Wade. 

“Shut up,” Logan growled, “get these wet for her.” Wade was more than happy to oblige, lapping like a dog at the tips before swallowing them to the knuckles. With his mouth next to my ear, I could hear his exaggerated sucking and slurping. Logan groaned, hips bucking against mine briefly, before he pulled his fingers back. A long trail of spit stretched and snapped between the two. His hand dove under my underwear again, soaked finger prodding at my entrance. 

“Did you, after that night in the bar,” Wade mumbled against my throat, lips tracing my racing pulse. “Logan came from just sucking you off my fingers.” I could feel the man under me tense, like he was going to attack Wade. But he relaxed when he felt how wet I had gotten from hearing that. A finger slipped inside me and I groaned, head falling back on Wade’s shoulder. Wade’s fingers were long, able to poke and prod anywhere inside me with ease. But Logan’s were thick and there was a pleasant stretch around it. “Oh look at that pretty, pretty face,” Wade cooed, abandoning my neck to kiss at my flushed cheeks. “He’s so big isn’t he?” I moaned in response as Logan started to pump into me. “But that stretch feels so fucking good. Makes your toes curl, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes,” I whispered. Logan’s chest rumbled, gripping my hip as he increased his pace. Wade reached for the hem of my shirt, one borrowed from Logan, and went to pull it over my head. 

“No,” Logan rasped, thumb pressing against my clit, forcing a moan from me. “I like her in it.” Wade chuckled. 

“He’s such an animal, isn’t he?” Wade teased, but let the shirt go. “He loves marking his territory. It’s going to drive him crazy to smell his cum in you.” 

“Wade, shut the fuck up.” Logan’s other finger eased inside me, being as gentle as he could be. My eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. “Look at me, sweetheart. Wanna see your face, wanna see how good I make you feel.” Wade pinched my chin and used it to angle my head down. I couldn’t see Logan’s face well in the dim room but I could see little dark splotches on his cheeks. His nostrils were flared and his chest heaved. 

“God you two look so hot.” I could hear Wade sucking on something before his hands went back to toying with my nipples. My hips jerked, forcing Logan deeper into me, at the feeling of Wade’s wet fingers. He pressed himself closer and I could feel the defined ridge of his cock against my back. 

Logan’s grip on my hip became tighter as he guided me over his hand in long rolls. “There you go princess,” he mumbled. “Make yourself feel good for me. Take what you need.” Fuck. Those words made desire rush through me. I leaned forward, hands braced on Logan’s wide chest, and started to grind against his fingers. I could feel his heart racing under my palms. He curled his fingers just right that made pleasure shoot down my spine. Wade’s hands slipped from me in this new angle. 

“Feel so good,” I sighed, nails pricking into his skin. Logan showed no reaction of pain, his whole focus on me. He pressed against my clit, the pressure just firm enough that my toes curled. “Logan,” I mumbled and reached for his free hand. He gave it willingly and I immediately shoved it up my shirt so he could take over where Wade had stopped. He played with my nipple like he did my clit, long, firm strokes across the sensitive nerves. “Oh god,” I gasped, pleasure pooling deep in my stomach. My hips became more desperate as I chased after the orgasm just out of reach. 

“Aw, Lo,” Wade cooed, faux sympathy dripping from his words. “You’re so hard, do you want some help?” Logan’s hips jerked under me, his fingers spearing deeper, hand briefly clenching around my breasts. I let out a strangled moan at the stretch and rocked my hips quicker. 

“Leave it alone,” Logan hissed, eyes finally darting from my face to glare at Wade over my shoulder. “Don’t need anything but her. I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I baby?” I nodded furiously. I could feel that tension growing in my stomach, that heady rush of heat just within arms reach. “You’re close.” It wasn’t a question and I was too focused on my oncoming orgasm to answer. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart, probably taste like heaven.” 

”Oh she does,” Wade agrees, kissing the nape of my neck. Everything, their words, the rough scrape of Logan’s hands on my most tender areas, the knowledge that Wade is watching, kicked me over the edge. My body went rigid for a moment, a moan caught in my chest, before I ground against Logan with renewed desperation. 

“Fuck, Logan,” I panted. My nails were dug deep into his skin, the warmth of his blood soaking into my fingertips. 

“There you go princess, I got you.” His fingers were pumping into me, fucking me hard through my orgasm. It was exactly what I needed. 

“Logan!” My blurry eyes opened to see him gazing up at me. I was too far into the waves of my orgasms to find his expression, but I smiled down at him all the same. He made a little noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. 

Soon the pleasure faded and my hips slowed. My breath was uneven. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room. Then Logan’s hand snaked up from my breast to cup the side of my neck. The neckline of the shirt stretched to accommodate his thick forearm. “Alright?” I hummed, little aftershocks rippling through me, my hips jerking over him. Once I stilled fully, his fingers left from me. I whimpered at the loss. He slipped his sticky fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling closed at the taste. 

“Come on baby muffin,” Wade breathed against my neck, licking a drip of sweat off the skin. “Let’s put on a show for him, yeah?” 

“Okay,” I sighed, “just one second.” I leaned closer to Logan, tongue flashing out to lick at the fingers still in his mouth. “Gimme a kiss,” I weakly demanded. He obeyed, removing the digits and dragging my face closer by my chin. His tongue delved into my mouth, the tang of me thick on it. I drew back with a faint smile before I nipped his bottom lip. 

“Let’s go, I’m not known for my patience,” Wade playfully growled, giving my ass a light spank. I giggled, rolling off Logan’s torso, the bed squeaking a little under me. Wade’s hands slid between my legs and spread my thighs apart. He hooked his fingers through my panties and inched them down my legs. I blushed as I felt the fabric cling to my wet pussy before it slipped away. “There you go, you nasty old man.” Wade tossed the bundle of wet fabric at Logan’s face again. The older man made an annoyed sound, throwing the sticky panties near my laundry hamper. 

“I don’t need it.” 

“You didn’t say that with the last pair,” Wade teased, my borrowed shirt climbing up my stomach. “You know,” he said, voice low like he was letting me in on a huge secret, “that last pair I grabbed was ruined. You wanna know how?” 

“Wade,” there was a hint of embarrassment in Logan’s voice. But I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to let Wade slip the shirt off me, biting back a small giggle when he tickled across my ribs. 

“He made me come in them and then let me fuck him while they were shoved in his mouth.” Heat burned down my neck. “I can’t even see you, but I know you’re all turned on and pink.” Wade backed off the bed, shimming his pants down his narrow hips. I propped myself up on my elbows and squinted in the darkness, trying to take his naked body in. The shadows played across the ridges of his stomach, the V of his waist, and unfortunately lingered between his legs, completely obscuring what I actually wanted to see. “You look cute when you pout like that.” Wade clambered back over me, settling between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head. His cock was heavy and warm as it rested on my stomach. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” 

“I can take a guess,” I mumbled, arching my neck to brush my lips against his. A bead of warm liquid dribbled onto my stomach. “Why don’t you fix that?” He kissed me back, light pecks and lashes of his tongue on my lips. 

“As you command, my love.” My heart stuttered at the casual way he said the word. Wade leaned back on his knees, his fist pumping over his length. Just as he was lining himself up, my stomach tight in anticipation, Logan’s hand wrapped around Wade’s cock, stilling him. “You can wait your turn, peanut.” 

“Shut up you idiot.” Logan’s forearm flexed and Wade’s hips jerked with a strangled noise of pain. “Sweetheart, do you have condoms?” 

“No, but you guys can’t give me anything can you?” Logan shifted closer, his face becoming clearer in the dim light, there was a pinch of concern on it. 

“No, but we can get you pregnant all the same.” Logan’s nose twitched, clearly smelling that I got even wetter at the idea. “Fuck,” his voice was gruff, forehead falling to my bare shoulder. 

“Stop smelling me,” I hissed. “Anyways, I’m on birth control. Now let Wade fuck me.” Logan sighed and let Wade go. He took his cock in his hand, sliding it through my folds, rubbing my slick into his skin. 

“Ooh,” Wade teased, tapping my clit with each roll of his hips. “Remind me to get on your bad side. I like how you sound angry. Much better than big boy over there.” Wade notched himself at my entrance, pausing for a beat, then pushed into me. I moaned, back arching. He was so warm and twitching already. “Shit baby,” he mumbled, his focus solely on where he disappeared into me. He took his time, giving me an inch, before withdrawing, then working another in. 

It was absolutely maddening. 

“Wade,” I whined, the slow drag of his cock through my sensitive walls making my head spin. It seemed like he was never ending. I wanted him deeper and I tried to force it, but his grip was iron tight on my hips, completely freezing me. 

“Let me savor this, yeah? I only get this for the first time once.” His hips pressed flush to mine, all of him buried deep. He lifted my waist, the change in angle made my stomach clench, as he worked even deeper. 

“Fuck,” the word trembled as my eyes rolled back. The bed next to me creaked, then Logan’s lips were on my neck. He only left a few bites before he was trailing down my chest, tongue tracing along the hollow of my throat, the line of my collar bones. His beard scraped against my flushed skin as he moved. 

“I see what you mean,” Wade sighs, “she flutters so much when you kiss her neck.” He pulled out, just the tip lingering, before he surged forward. It wasn’t rough, but it made my breathing hiccup, ankles locking around him, heels digging into his ass. Logan’s tongue traced down my breast before circling a firm nipple. My hands locked into his hair, keeping him close. Wade continued his slow, torturous, push and pull. He was long enough that at this angle, he was able to rub against my sweet spot on each stroke. 

“Faster,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around him. This pace was only making me feel feverish, more desperate. I needed an edge, that bite of roughness, especially now. The nightmare was long forgotten but I could feel the lingering emotions in the back of my mind.

“Being so gentle,” Logan hummed against me, the hot air dancing over my wet nipple. I bit my lip at the feeling. “I would have thought you’d be fucking her like a rabbit.” When Wade didn’t respond, Logan titled his head to face him. “You really going to come already?”  

“You’re going to be the exact same way,” Wade huffed, shoving Logan’s face against my breast a little too aggressively. “You’re probably going to cry when you have her wrapped around your ancient dick.” Logan growled, sitting up straight, uncaring that I ripped several of his hairs out. He gripped Wade’s face, silver claws breaking his skin and glinting in the dim light. 

“Fuck her like she wants, or I’m going to.” Wade smirked. His face tilted, the edges catching on Logan’s claws, blood trickling down his bumpy skin. Shock mingled with the pleasure simmering in me. Wade had stalled in his movements so I was forced to wiggle my hips the best I could, giving myself a little friction. 

“Look at her Lo,” Wade nodded down at me, like there was anyone else her could be. “She likes it when you're rough with me. I knew you were lying about not wanting knives to be involved.” Wade seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I reached up, Logan’s claws glancing across the back of skin, and bent Wade’s body in half, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss, arms latching tight around his neck. I bit at his lip hard enough to break the skin, hot liquid dripping into my mouth. Wade grunted in shock, his hips jerking roughly into me.

“You said you fucked harder with them involved,” I murmured between kisses. “Prove it.” Wade’s arms curled around my waist, clutching me close, plunging deep on a harsh thrust. I groaned, eyes fluttering, the angle making my thighs tremble. 

“Knew you had a mean streak in you.” His hips snapped into me finally giving me that needed roughness. I continued my sloppy kissing, nipping and sucking on his rapidly healing lips. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of my hips as he gripped tighter. Another pair of calloused hands traced up my thigh, feather light as they moved up my skin. Wade trailed his lips along my cheek and jaw. Fingers pinched my chin and dragged my face to Logan’s. He littered my face with light pecks as Wade went to my neck. 

“Is he finally making you feel good? Took him long enough, huh?” 

“Do you,” my voice broke as Logan slipped his hand between Wade and I’s bodies, rolling his fingers over my clit. “Do you have to antagonize each other all the time?” 

“Yes,” they said in unison. Logan’s mouth went to my neck again, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, nearly hard enough to break skin. My hand went back to his slightly sweat-dampened hair while the other laid across Wade’s flexing shoulders. With both of their mouth’s occupied, the only thing filling the room was the wet sound of Wade pounding into me and my ragged gasps.That familiar swirl of heat was growing in me. My head felt light, overwhelmed by all the sensations. 

Wade’s forehead pressed between my breasts, his own uneven breath coasting across my sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he mumbled. His pace was losing its consistency but none of its harshness. Logan’s fingers on my clit picked up in speed, the scrape of his callouses extra intense on my tender skin. I whined, my body shuddering as pleasure shot through me. Logan’s mouth slanted against mine and swallowed down all my noises. It wasn’t quite a kiss, I was quickly growing out of breath to linger too long, but Logan didn’t mind. 

Wade was adjusting my position in tiny ways, a slight tilt to the right, a little lift, a small drop. I figured it was just a coincidence until he hit that perfect spot inside me that would have made my eyes cross if they weren’t already closed. I let out a strangled wail of Wade’s name, nails ripping into his shoulder. “There we go,” he panted. 

It only took four more strokes. 

“Wade, I- I’m gonna,” I barely got the words out before the hot coil inside me snapped. Just like Logan’s fingers before, Wade fucked me through my orgasm, groaning at the tight squeeze. Logan slowed over my clit, knowing that overstimulation was creeping up. 

“In or out?” Wade’s voice was clipped, hips finally losing all sense of rhythm, just becoming uneven jerks. It was hard for him to even move with the vice grip my legs had around him. 

“In, ah Wade, in please!” He made a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and whine, as he pushed in as far as he could with a shudder. Warmth spread through me as he came with a long groan. “Fuck,” I mumbled, my hips still trembling from the aftershocks. 

Our bodies slowed, all the shakiness easing out of us. Wade kept me close even when my legs fell from his hips. He laid his cheek against my sternum, body growing heavier over me as he relaxed. I gave his head a weak kiss just as another pair of lips found my cheek. “You okay baby?” I smiled at Logan, feeling just a little giddy. 

“Yeah.” Logan smirked back and I blinked sleepily at him. Wade was softening inside me and drips of cum traced down my skin to the bed. I winced at the stickiness. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” Logan said, already moving to get off the bed, legs on the floor. My arm stretched to grab his fingers. 

“It’s your turn.” I couldn’t see his face too well, but I saw his head tilt in question. I chuckled. “Wade, get off me now.” He groaned, sucking a hickey right on my chest before rolling next to me. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling across the mattress to be face to face with Logan. I heard his breath stutter. “Cleaning up can wait can’t it?” My hand slid between his legs, gripping his cock through his boxers. “How do you want me?” I felt him throb in my grip. 

“Jesus,” he huffed. I littered his neck in licking kisses while I awaited his response. “Go sit on Wade’s face.” Now it was my turn to look at him confused. He smirked, a flash of a pointed tooth catching in the street light outside. “Don’t you trust me princess?” Reluctantly, I released him, turning on my knees to inch across to Wade. I made sure to shimmy my ass for Logan as I moved. 

“Oh dessert.” I had barely swung my leg over Wade’s face before he pulled me down by my hips. His tongue parted my folds, flicking aggressively at my tender clit before sliding back and licking his cum from me. I shuddered, hands gripping his head. The bed shifted and I felt Logan’s palm slide up my spine before cupping my neck gently and guiding my torso to be flat to the bed. I braced myself on my elbows, adjusting my hips, the new angle only allowing Wade to continue his torture on my clit. Calloused hands spread me farther open. Logan lapped away all the cum that had leaked down my thighs. I whimpered, fingers knotting the bed sheets. But the sound grew in volume and pitch as Logan joined Wade, tongues tangling briefly, before he speared into my leaking pussy. Wade laughed as I shook above him. His hot breath fanned across my wet skin and I had to bite my lip to stop from wailing. 

“How do we taste?” I had no idea who Wade was even speaking as he was practically smothered under me. Logan groaned, nuzzling his face deeper into me, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on my ass. His tongue curled, licking every inch of my clenching channel. The scratch of his beard was like little pinpricks of pain but it only made me push my hips against him harder. The sounds I was making were downright pathetic. Just when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he reared back, breath uneven. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to where Wade was pinned. When he looked almost content to just watch, I shimmed my hips, grinding harder on Wade’s face. The man under me eagerly sucked my clit into his mouth and I sobbed at the feeling. 

“Shit,” he huffed, “you two are gonna kill me.” There was more adjusting and then I felt the blunt head of Logan’s cock at my entrance. Wade released my clit, opting to just rub his nose against it. It was enough friction to keep me satisfied, but not enough to make me come too quickly. “Beg for it.” 

“Aw you’re being so mean!” 

But I was all too eager. “Please fuck me Logan, please! Been thinking about it so long! I promise I’ll make you feel so goo-ah!” With one long stroke, Logan was buried to the hilt. Despite how wet I was and the extra slick of Wade’s cum, there was still the barest hint of pressure as he stretched me. “Oh god,” I whimpered. Logan’s rough hands grasped my hips, giving an experimental roll. “Logan.” He shushed me, drawing his cock nearly out before plunging back into me. The force punched a moan out of me. “Like that,” I pleaded. 

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he hummed. His pace was languid, but rough. He used my waist as leverage to drag me closer for each thrust. With each pull, I was forced to grind myself against Wade’s face, who stuck his tongue out so I couldn’t escape the pleasure. I was so wound up, so close to the edge after two orgasams, that I could only take a handful of his harsh strokes before I was coming again. I buried my face in the sheets, shuddering whines falling from my lips. “Shit,” Logan groaned. Wade made a muffled noise as my juices dripped into his mouth. His own hands joined Logan’s, clutching me close. I could feel Logan’s thighs trembling where they were pressed against mine. 

I hadn’t fully finished my orgasm before Logan was moving in me again. He was far less restrained now, fucking into me with quicker thrusts. My toes curled. “Logan,” I sobbed. Despite the overstimulation growing in me, I arched my back, forcing Logan deeper.

“Feel so good, I can’t handle it,” Logan grunted. He bent over me, messily kissing at my spine and shoulder blades. “Too much?” His voice was quiet as it tickled along my neck. 

“No!” I cried, bouncing against him as best I could with both of them holding me. Wade chuckled and the vibrations made me nearly rip the sheets in my grip. “More!” Logan huffed a laugh, kissing the back of my neck, before his hand replaced it, pinning me to the bed. The pressure was enough that I knew not to move, but light enough that I could slip out from it if I needed to. 

Logan fucked into me like a man possessed, hips rutting into me with reckless abandoned. I had no doubt there would be faint bruises on my ass from him. But that pinch of pain only drove me higher. I felt drunk on all the sensations. Logan rubbing against my tender walls. Wade’s tongue as it rolled between my folds, tracing my entrance. The ache in my hips from being spread so long. My moans of their names grew more slurred before it just became whimpers. Tears stung my eyes and I let them fall freely. 

“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, his hand briefly flexing around the back of my neck. He was panting, if only a little, and I took it as a compliment. His hips moved quicker, the slap of his skin against mine echoing around the room. Wade’s tongue stopped wandering and honed back onto my clit, making tight circles around it. 

“Wade!” I cried out, body jolting. Logan’s hand suddenly went to my shoulder, jerking me up straight, my back flush to his chest. He banded an arm across my chest to pin me close while he drove into me. His lips found his previous bite mark and sunk his teeth into it. The feeling of my skin breaking was a dull burn, soothed by Wade between my legs. Heat burst through me, an orgasm that nearly knocked the wind from me. My hand went to Logan’s hair, fingers twisted deep into the strands, and held him close, weak sobs of euphoria escaping me. His other arm curled around my hips before he shoved himself as deep as he could with a little snarl into the skin clutched between his teeth. I could feel every twitch as he came, filling me to the brim. I shook in his embrace. If not for his iron grip, I would have fallen flat on my face on the bed. 

The first thing to move was Logan’s teeth from my neck. “Fuck.” His worry was clear as he licked the dripping blood away. “I, I-shit, I didn’t mean to, I just got so caught up in you.” My weak hand slid from his hair, caressing his jaw. 

“S’okay,” I slurred. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to me. ”Felt good.” 

“You really can’t help but bite any piece of meat you see huh?” Wade’s tongue swept between my folds again, lapping up Logan’s cum as it leaked from me. Logan growled. I felt Wade’s fingers brush against me, curling around Logan’s softening cock before tugging it out. I whined as he obnoxiously slurped the mixture of cum from me. 

“Stop it,” Logan growled. “Make yourself useful and grab a towel.” With lots of adjusting, Wade was able to wiggle out from under us. But he didn’t go to the bathroom, instead he cupped the back of Logan’s head, meeting him in a kiss. Logan groaned. 

“Taste good right?” Wade leaned back, grinning, before licking Logan’s face from chin to nose. 

“How about you go grab a towel before I put my claws through your chest, yeah?” If anything, Wade’s smile grew wider, more wild. 

“Okay, okay. How about I get a towel to clean our precious girl up and then we can have some fun while she recovers?” Logan sighs. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. Wade shimmied in excitement, giving me a wet peck on the cheek, before disappearing out of the bedroom. My heavy head fell back on Logan’s shoulder. “Do you feel better now?” I gave a weak laugh and nuzzled my face against his cheek. 

“I can get used to this.” Logan hummed. 

“Me too sweetheart, me too.”

[lilsoftext]

•~* FULL OF SURPRISE *~•

-chris sturniolo x female reader

---

It was just past midnight when Chris leaned back in his gaming chair, stretching his arms over his head. He had just finished editing the last clip of the night, a funny highlight from his latest stream, and was feeling a strange combination of exhaustion and restlessness. He glanced over at Sof, who was curled up on the couch, her face illuminated by the soft glow of her phone screen.

“Hey,” Chris said, breaking the silence. “You feel like doing something crazy?”

Sof looked up, an amused smile already forming on her lips. She knew Chris too well—he always had these bursts of spontaneous energy, especially late at night. “Define ‘crazy,’” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Chris grinned, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I don’t know. Let’s just get out of here. Drive somewhere. Do something unexpected.”

Sof tilted her head, intrigued. “Where are we going to go at this hour? Everything’s closed.”

“That’s the fun part,” Chris said, already pulling on his jacket. “We don’t need a plan. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Sof laughed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous. But... I’m in.” She stood up and grabbed her coat from the armrest. “Where are we headed, captain?”

Chris flashed her a mischievous look. “Anywhere but here.”

They hurried out the door, adrenaline kicking in as they climbed into Chris’s car. The air was cool and crisp, and the streets were quiet, the world seemingly asleep around them. As they pulled out of the driveway, Sof leaned back in her seat, feeling a thrill she hadn’t expected.

“So,” she said, glancing over at Chris, “what’s the plan, really? Or are we just driving until we find something interesting?”

Chris smirked, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “We’ll know it when we see it. Trust me.”

They drove through the empty streets, passing darkened houses and quiet storefronts. The silence of the night was broken only by the low hum of the engine and the soft music playing from the radio. Sof felt a sense of excitement bubbling up inside her. There was something freeing about not knowing what would happen next, about leaving behind their usual routines for something spontaneous.

About twenty minutes into their drive, Chris suddenly swerved off the main road and into a parking lot. Sof looked around in confusion. “A gas station? Really?” she asked, amused.

Chris grinned, pulling up next to one of the pumps. “Not just any gas station. The best gas station snacks you’ll ever find.”

Sof rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “You seriously brought me out here for snacks?”

“Hey,” Chris said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Midnight snacks are an adventure in themselves. Come on.”

They both hopped out of the car and made their way inside, the bright fluorescent lights almost blinding after the darkness of the night. The gas station clerk barely looked up as they entered, clearly used to odd late-night customers. Chris immediately made a beeline for the snack aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves with childlike enthusiasm.

“Alright,” he said, turning to Sof, “pick anything you want. We’re going all out.”

Sof laughed, grabbing a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars. “You’re too much, you know that?”

Chris grabbed a random assortment of snacks—chips, cookies, energy drinks, and a massive slushie for good measure. They paid for their haul and headed back to the car, where they sat parked under the neon lights, tearing into their snacks like two kids on a sugar high.

“So,” Sof said between bites, “was this your grand adventure plan all along?”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “No, this is just the beginning.”

They continued to drive, munching on their snacks and talking about everything and nothing. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the way it always did with them. They shared stories, jokes, and dreams, the miles slipping away beneath them.

After another hour of driving, Chris suddenly turned down a narrow road that led into a wooded area. Sof glanced out the window, curious. “Where are we now?”

“Wait and see,” Chris said, his tone teasing. The road eventually opened up into a small clearing by a lake, the moonlight reflecting off the still water.

Sof gasped. “Chris, this is beautiful!”

Chris parked the car and turned off the engine. “I figured it’d be a nice place to just... chill for a bit. No distractions, just us.”

They got out of the car and walked to the edge of the lake, the cool breeze ruffling Sof’s hair as she gazed out over the water. It was so quiet, so peaceful—nothing like the hustle of their usual days. Chris stood beside her, his hands in his pockets, his eyes focused on the shimmering surface of the lake.

“I needed this,” Sof said quietly, breaking the silence. “Just... to get away for a little while.”

Chris nodded. “Me too. Sometimes, everything gets so... loud. It’s nice to just be somewhere quiet.”

They stood there for a while, taking in the tranquility of the moment. It felt like time had slowed down, like they were the only two people in the world. Sof leaned into Chris, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“You’re always full of surprises,” Sof said with a smile.

Chris laughed softly. “That’s my job, right? Keep things interesting.”

“You definitely do,” she replied, her voice warm with affection.

They eventually headed back to the car, but neither of them was in a hurry to leave. They sat on the hood of the car, sharing the last of their snacks and watching the stars above. Chris pointed out constellations, making up funny stories about them, while Sof listened, her head resting on his shoulder.

As the night wore on, they finally decided to head home, feeling lighter than when they had left. The drive back was quieter, the earlier excitement replaced by a comfortable calm. By the time they pulled back into their driveway, it was nearly 3 a.m.

Sof stretched as they got out of the car. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Chris grinned. “Told you it would be fun.”

“It was,” Sof admitted, smiling at him. “Thanks for dragging me out of the house.”

“Anytime,” Chris said, pulling her into a hug. “I love our spontaneous adventures.”

Sof hugged him back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over her. “Me too. Let’s do it again soon.”

Chris smiled as they walked back into the house, already thinking about where their next adventure would take them. But for now, he was happy just knowing that, no matter where they went or what they did, as long as Sof was by his side, life would always be full of surprises.

---

[emjayewrites]

Sakura Dreams 🌸 🇯🇵 🗼Jules Kounde (3/6)

SYNOPSIS: It was supposed to be a guys' trip to Japan after a disappointing ending to Euros, however, fate had another thing in mind.

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!blackOC (Ayo Pratt) (faceclaim @/joie.ade)

WARNINGS: cursing, poor google translations, football b.s & drama, flirty!jules, eventual smut. MINORS DNI!!!

TAGLIST: @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @sinflowersugar @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @leilaxaliel @serpenttines-library @certifiedlesbianbaddie @niahxo @julescpu @jack0357 @chaoticcoffeequeen @greedyjudge2 @yeea-nah @saturnville @taytropicana @trentswrld @cranberryjulce @vile-harlot @2serenity0 @elyseesarchive @peaceiswonderful

A/N: Jules was in Japan, so of course I had to make a short series about it. Also, if you're a Jules girl, please let me know and I'll tag you in more chapters.

accordingtoayo • posted on their story 4 hours ago

story comments:

jkeey4:🚆⏩⛩️

nikkigal: ♥️♥️♥️

symonenotbiles: kyoto here we come!

Ayo shifted in her seat as the bullet train hurtled toward Kyoto, the sprawling countryside blurring into streaks of green and gray. The cool air inside the train was a sharp contrast to the heat that had been rising between her and Jules, especially last night. She stared out the window, but her mind was miles away, replaying the events of the night before.

She couldn’t help but wonder—what would have happened if Symone hadn’t gotten sick? Would she have stayed with Jules on the dance floor, let him pull her closer, tighter? Would she have followed him back to his room, let the heat between them finally boil over?

Ayo shifted again. It’s been awhile since she’d been with anyone, and there’s only so much her vibrator could do. Jules had been so close, his hands on her waist, his breath hot against her ear. She’d felt the hardness of his body pressed against hers and the slow, deliberate grind of his hips, like he was daring her to give in.

But then her friends needed her, and just like that, the moment evaporated. As she looked back at him on the dance floor, left alone and frustrated, she felt something she wasn’t used to—regret.

Across the aisle, Jules was deep in conversation with Wilhelm, his laughter cutting through the quiet murmur of the train. He glanced over at her, and their eyes met for just a second. There it was again—that flutter in her chest that made her both excited and anxious.

Last night had felt like a step forward, but just like that, they’d taken two steps back. Jules wanted her, that much was clear. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to let him in. She usually enjoyed the chase, but this time… she wondered if he was getting tired of the back and forth, or worse, maybe she was.

"You good, Ayo?" Symone's voice cut through her thoughts. You've been staring at that window like it holds the secrets of the universe."

Ayo rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"About a certain French hottie?" Symone waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Shut up," Ayo muttered, but she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"So," Nikki leaned over the back of her seat. "What's the plan for Kyoto? Please tell me we're hitting up some hot springs. Mama needs to soak."

Ayo chuckled, grateful for the distraction. "I think there's an onsen near our hotel. We can check it out."

As the group buzzed with excitement, Ayo felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, her heart skipping when she turned around and saw Jules sitting behind her seat. His expression was softer, more serious than before.

"Hey," he said quietly, as if the words were just for her. "I was thinking… maybe we could explore Kyoto together tonight. Just the two of us."

His offer hung in the air between them. Ayo hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. She could feel her defenses rising, the excuses forming on her lips. But there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was waiting for her to let him in.

"Yeah," she said finally, her voice softer than she intended. "I’d like that."

As the train pulled into Kyoto Station, Ayo felt a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her. The group gathered their belongings, chattering excitedly about their plans for the ancient city.

"Okay, so who's ready to go to some hot springs?" Gigi asked, practically bouncing as they made their way off the train.

Ayo hefted her bag onto her shoulder, stealing a glance at Jules. He was helping Nikki with her oversized suitcase, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt. She quickly looked away, cursing herself for acting like a horny teenager.

______________________________________________________

The bus ride to the hotel was filled with lighthearted chatter, the group's excitement palpable as they discussed their plans for Kyoto. Ayo found herself stealing glances at Jules, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

Their hotel was a beautiful blend of traditional ryokan and modern luxury. The girls' suite was spacious, with sliding paper doors and a view of a serene garden. Meanwhile, the boys were staying at a different hotel just down the street.

As they settled in, she quickly changed out of her travel clothes, opting for a cute midi dress that showed off her curves without being too obvious.

Gigi noticed her primping in the bathroom and raised an eyebrow. "Ooh, someone's getting dolled up. Hot date?"

"Jules and I are going to explore a bit in an hour," Ayo mentioned casually to Gigi as she put on her lipgloss.

Gigi's eyes lit up. "Oh really?" she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. Before Ayo could respond, Gigi opened her big mouth and spilled the beans to the others.

Symone grinned mischievously as she made her way into the bathroom with Nikki hot on her heels. "Girl, are you finally gonna let that man show you his Eiffel Tower?"

Ayo rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "We're just going sightseeing, you perv."

"Uh-huh," Nikki chimed in. "Sightseeing. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Laughing, Ayo threw a bag of cotton balls at her friends. "Y'all are too much. Besides, Symone, if you hadn't gotten sick last night..."

Symone held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't blame me for unintentionally cockblocking. I'm just glad I'm feeling better to enjoy all this. 'Bout time you gonna let ol' boy hit. Lord knows it's been a while since you had Grade-A dick anyways."

"'Cuz you definitely wasn't getting it from Jamaal," Gigi quipped.

"Forreal," Nikki added with a disapproving frown. "Ol' two-pump-chump headass."

Ayo snorted, grabbing her perfume. "And you would know, huh?"

"Damn right 'cuz you told all of us!" Nikki said, winking. "But seriously, don’t act like you weren’t ready to take Jules home last night. Your eyes were screaming, ‘get me out of here.’ If it weren’t for SySy hugging that toilet bowl, you would’ve been out with him, sis."

Ayo couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, okay, I’ll admit—maybe. But you know I’m not that easy."

"Girl, ain't nothing wrong with getting what you need. Shit, I'm doing it myself with AK." Gigi said.

Nikki pointed at Ayo’s dress with a knowing look. "She didn’t put that on just to sightsee. You tryna get dicked down, don't lie."

Ayo rolled her eyes, a warmth creeping up her cheeks. "It’s just a dress. Can’t I look good for myself?"

"Sure," Symone drawled, smirking. "But if Jules doesn’t hit tonight, I’m gonna be disappointed in both of y’all."

Nikki chuckled, "Yeah, Jules ain't the type to play the long game forever. You might just find out tonight what that man’s working with."

Ayo sighed but smiled to herself, her nerves mixed with excitement. Her friends were right; she had been ready to go home with Jules last night before everything derailed. But she wasn’t sure what she’d have done if they’d made it back to his room. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and despite her flirtations, Ayo wasn’t used to letting someone get this close.

"Well, no matter what happens, at least I know y’all will be nosy as hell about it," Ayo teased.

"You already know," Symone laughed. "Now go get yours, girl."

Just as the teasing died down, there was a knock at the door. Ayo glanced at the time—it had to be Jules. She took one last look in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and grabbed her purse. Time to see where tonight would lead.

Ayo took a deep breath as she approached the door, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She opened it to find Jules standing there, looking handsome in a casual button-down shirt and jeans.

His eyes lit up when he saw her. "Wow, Ayo," he said, his voice warm. "You look amazing. That dress, your hair - everything."

Ayo felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself."

Jules's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer. "I really like your hair like this. The way it frames your face - it's beautiful."

Ayo smiled, feeling her nerves melt away as she looked up at him, her head touching her top knot unconsciously. "Thank you. Ready to go?"

Jules nodded, stepping back so she could join him in the hallway. As they started walking toward the lobby, she could feel the teasing gaze of her friends burning into her back, but she ignored them. Tonight was about her and Jules.

As they left the hotel, the gentle evening air of Kyoto enveloped them. The city's blend of ancient traditions and modern life created a magical atmosphere.

"So, where to first?" Ayo asked, falling into step beside Jules.

"I thought we could start with a walk along the Philosopher's Path," Jules suggested. "Then maybe we could grab something to eat. How does that sound?"

Ayo smiled. "Sounds perfect. I’m excited to see Kyoto like this."

Jules gave her another lingering look before nodding. "Yeah, me too."

They walked in comfortable silence at first, the sounds of the city buzzing around them as they made their way down the narrow streets. Every now and then, their arms brushed against each other, sending little sparks up Ayo’s spine.

As they passed through the old wooden buildings and paper lanterns lining the streets, Jules broke the silence. "You know, I was thinking... about last night."

Ayo felt a twinge of nervousness. She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes. "Yeah?"

Jules nodded, looking thoughtful. "I just— I was really hoping we’d get more time to talk, you know? It felt like we were starting to get somewhere, and then..."

"Symone got sick," Ayo finished, a soft smile on her lips. "Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that too."

He looked at her closely, his eyes searching hers. "And? Where do you think we were heading?"

Ayo paused, biting her bottom lip as they continued walking. She had asked herself the same question earlier—what would’ve happened if she hadn’t had to leave? "I don’t know," she admitted quietly. "But I guess we’ll find out."

Jules’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a slow smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued walking, the conversation flowing easily between them as they explored the streets of Kyoto. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated their path, and the air was filled with the scent of cherry blossoms and street food. Ayo felt her nerves fading as she became more comfortable with Jules, the teasing, the shared smiles—it all felt natural, as if they’d known each other much longer than just a few days.

Eventually, they found themselves at a small, tucked-away restaurant. Jules led her inside, and they sat across from each other in a cozy booth. Over bowls of steaming ramen and shared appetizers, the conversation continued to flow effortlessly.

"So," Jules said, between bites of gyoza, "tell me more about your modeling. How did you get started?"

Ayo smiled, twirling her chopsticks in her ramen. "It's kind of a funny story, actually..." She paused, wondering how much to share. "I was discovered at a McDonald's, of all places."

Jules raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "McDonald's? Were you the new face of Big Macs or something?"

Ayo snorted, nearly choking on her noodles. "God, no. I was just there with my friends after class, probably looking a hot mess, when this woman approached me."

"A hot mess in McDonald's? Sounds like my kind of night," Jules teased.

Ayo rolled her eyes, but couldn't help grinning. "Anyway, she handed me her card and said I had 'the look.' I thought it was a scam at first."

"To be fair, 'you have the look' does sound like a creepy pickup line," Jules mused.

"Right?" Ayo laughed. "But it turned out to be legit. Next thing I knew, I was doing local shoots, then New York Fashion Week, and now..." She gestured vaguely. "Here I am, eating ramen in Kyoto."

Jules's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Quite the upgrade from McDonald's, I'd say."

Ayo felt a warmth spread through her chest. "What about you?" she asked, trying to keep her cool. "How'd you end up in sports?"

Jules's expression turned thoughtful. "It was always the plan, I guess, but I never thought it could actually be reality."

Ayo's eyebrows shot up. "Why? What changed?"

Jules shrugged, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Luck, I guess. Sports became my path when I was a teenager and I got lucky..."

Ayo leaned in, intrigued. "You're being pretty vague about this whole sports thing. What exactly do you do?"

Jules grinned mischievously. "I kick balls for a living."

"Come on," Ayo pressed, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Don't make me Google you."

Jules held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I play football professionally."

"Premier League pro?" Ayo asked, impressed. "Are you on FIFA?"

Jules chuckled. "Not quite. It's La Liga... same but different. La Liga is the top Spanish league, while Premier League is English. Both are top-tier, just different countries."

Ayo nodded, processing this information. "So you're kind of a big deal, huh?"

"I do alright," Jules said with a modest shrug, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Mmhmm," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Enough to buy a Rolex? Seems better than alright to me."

Jules chuckled, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "You caught me. I guess I'm doing better than just alright."

Ayo leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "So, Mr. Big Shot, what's it like? Playing in front of thousands of people, being recognized on the street?"

Jules paused, considering his words carefully. "It's... intense. Exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. One moment you're on top of the world, the next you're public enemy number one because of a missed pass."

"Sounds stressful," Ayo mused, stirring her ramen thoughtfully.

"It can be," Jules admitted. "But there's nothing like the rush of a good game, you know? It's addictive."

Ayo nodded, understanding the feeling. "I get that. It's like when I'm on the runway. Everything else just... fades away."

"Exactly," Jules said, his eyes lighting up. "So, tell me about your most memorable show. Any wardrobe malfunctions I should know about?"

Ayo groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "Oh God, don't even get me started..."

Jules nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, well let's try this then. Favorite fashion show?"

Ayo's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's easy. Milan Fashion Week. It was my first time modeling internationally, being flown out and everything. There's something about being flown out, you know?"

Jules leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe I'll have to fly you out to Barcelona sometime."

"Barcelona?" Ayo raised an eyebrow. "Is that where you live?"Jules nodded, and Ayo furrowed her brow. "I thought you lived in France?"

"For the summer, yeah. For the Euros," Jules explained, then noticed Ayo's confused look. "It's a major international football tournament," he added with a chuckle.

Ayo nodded, processing this information. "Barcelona, huh? Have you ever met Messi?" she asked jokingly.

Jules replied casually, "Yeah, he's a nice guy actually." Ayo's eyes widened in surprise, and Jules couldn't help but laugh. "It's crazy," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "You barely know anything about football, but you know Messi?"

Ayo shrugged, a sheepish smile on her face. "I only know minor things about football, mostly from conversations or social media. And it usually revolves around Beckham and Messi."

Jules pondered this for several beats, his expression thoughtful. Finally, he grinned. "Could be worse, I suppose. At least you didn't mention Ronaldo."

Ayo found herself increasingly drawn to Jules's charm and wit. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see his world, to visit Barcelona and experience the excitement of a match day. But she quickly pushed the thought aside. This was just a vacation fling, wasn't it? No need to get ahead of herself.

After dinner, they wandered back through the quiet streets, their steps slower now, more deliberate. The tension between them had shifted—it wasn’t nervous or awkward anymore, but something charged, filled with unspoken potential.

Finally, as they reached the front of her hotel, Jules turned to her. "So... I’m picking you up for the temples tomorrow?"

Ayo smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I’m looking forward to it."

Her heart raced a little faster, but she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end. Jules was still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at her with that relaxed, half-smiling expression that made her stomach flutter. Before she could think too hard about it, the words spilled out.

"Are you tired, Jules?"

Jules blinked, a bit taken aback. "What?"

"Are you tired?" Ayo clarified, her voice low and playful. "You know, sleepy?"

He tilted his head, catching onto her vibe. "Not really. Why, what’s up?"

Ayo glanced down the street toward his hotel, then back at him, her lip caught between her teeth in thought. She took a small step closer, her confidence building. "Well... I was thinking, maybe I could see where you're staying?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You wanna see my hotel?"

Ayo gave a playful shrug. "Yeah. I mean, if it’s cool with you. I’ve heard good things," she teased, biting back a smile.

His eyes gleamed with interest, and without hesitation, he slipped his hand to the small of her back, his touch warm and grounding. "Say less."

They walked together, heading toward his hotel just down the street. The energy between them shifted, the anticipation building. Ayo felt a mix of excitement and nervousness bubble up inside her, but she squared her shoulders, determined not to let it show. Jules walked a little closer to her now, his hand remaining at her back as they made their way down the softly lit street.

When they arrived at his hotel, the difference was obvious. While her hotel leaned into the traditional Japanese aesthetic, Jules's was sleek and modern, with sharp lines and glass walls.

"Okay, I admit it," Ayo said as they stepped through the automatic doors. "This is pretty nice."

Jules smirked. "Told you."

They made their way to the elevator, and Jules tapped the button for his floor. As they ascended, Ayo’s nerves stirred again. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was getting herself into, but the steady pressure of his hand on her back kept her grounded. When they stepped out of the elevator and started walking down the hall to his suite, Jules suddenly paused, his hand dropping from her back.

"Hold up," he said with a grin. "Let me check if any of the guys are here."

Ayo nodded as he slipped inside. She waited outside the door, her heart beating a little faster now. A few minutes passed before Jules’s head poked back out, a mischievous grin on his face.

"All clear."

She followed him inside, the door clicking shut behind her. Jules’s suite was spacious and modern, much like the hotel itself. The view of the city stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but it was the cozy, dim lighting that made it feel more intimate.

Ayo wandered into the room, pretending to take in the view but acutely aware of Jules standing behind her. She could feel his presence, the warmth of him, and when she turned, their eyes locked. The unspoken tension between them thickened, both of them knowing this moment had been building for days.

Jules stepped closer, his eyes scanning her face as if waiting for a sign. "You know," he said softly, "I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now."

Before Ayo could respond, he cupped her face gently in his hands and leaned down, his lips brushing hers. The kiss was slow at first, soft, testing. But then, something shifted. His lips pressed more firmly against hers, and Ayo melted into him, her hands sliding up his chest. She kissed him back with a kind of urgency she hadn’t realized she’d been holding onto, her body pressing closer to his as the kiss deepened.

Jules’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers curling into the fabric of her dress. The warmth of his body, the taste of him—it was like everything else in the world fell away, leaving only this moment. Her pulse quickened as she tilted her head, giving him better access, her lips parting as their tongues met. The kiss was intoxicating, a mix of heat and tenderness that made her knees weak.

He groaned softly against her mouth, and that sound sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands gripped her a little tighter, like he was barely holding back. Ayo responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer still. Every brush of their lips, every shared breath felt electric, and when they finally pulled back, both of them were breathless.

Ayo stared up at him, her heart racing, her lips tingling from the intensity of it all. She could see the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger she felt coursing through her.

"Still not tired?" she whispered, her voice teasing but breathless.

"Not even close," Jules chuckled softly, his forehead resting against hers for a moment. "You wanna see my room?"

Ayo’s heart raced, but she couldn’t deny the pull between them, the magnetic energy that had been simmering since they first locked eyes in Tokyo. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with desire.

Without another word, Jules took her hand and led her down the short hallway to his bedroom. The door clicked shut behind them, and the atmosphere shifted. His room was minimalist, sleek and modern like the rest of the hotel, but none of that mattered as he turned to face her again, this time with a hunger in his eyes that made Ayo’s breath hitch.

Jules stepped closer, cupping her face with one hand while the other rested at her waist. He leaned in slowly, capturing her lips again, this time with more urgency. The kiss deepened, both of them melting into each other, tongues exploring, breaths mingling. Ayo felt his hands glide down her back, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

The bed was just a few steps away, and with a gentle push, Ayo felt the cool sheets against her skin as they tumbled onto it. Jules hovered over her, his weight pressing down just enough to make her feel enveloped, safe, yet electrified with desire. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every moment as his hands moved from her waist to the hem of her dress.

Ayo arched into him, her fingers slipping under his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his back. One by one, their clothes began to disappear, discarded onto the floor in a blur of motion.

Jules' lips were back on Ayo’s, soft but insistent, his hand cupping her cheek while his other roamed her body. As they kissed, he shifted them both until Ayo lay beneath him, his weight pressing into her just enough to make her feel wanted—claimed even.

He pulled away for a moment, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his eyes filled with hunger and something deeper. "Tu es magnifique" ("You’re beautiful"), he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, eyes locked onto hers.

Her breath hitched, her body already alight from his words, the low timbre of his voice sending heat straight through her. His lips traveled downward, grazing her jaw, her neck, and further still until they found her breasts. His tongue swirled slowly over one of her nipples, and her hands instinctively reached for his locs, tangling in the soft strands as he sucked gently.

Jules' mouth moved with purpose—focused, determined, yet unhurried. His teeth grazed her skin just enough to make her gasp before he soothed the spot with his tongue. She tugged at his hair, earning a low groan from him that vibrated against her skin.

When he finally started to trail kisses lower, along her stomach, Ayo’s heart raced in anticipation. Every inch of her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive as his lips teased her inner thighs.

"Jules…" she breathed, barely able to get the word out as he pressed a kiss to her already soaked core. He pulled back for just a second, his eyes dark and full of mischief as he met her gaze.

"Je vais te goûter, bébé." ("I’m going to taste you, baby.")

Her entire body tensed, not in fear but in anticipation, and then—oh God—his tongue made contact, slow and deliberate, licking a long, wet stripe from her entrance to her clit. She moaned, louder than she meant to, her grip on his locs tightening as her back arched involuntarily.

Jules groaned against her, the vibration of his mouth sending ripples of pleasure through her body. "Putain, tu es délicieuse" ("Fuck, you're delicious."), he muttered against her skin, his French slipping out like a prayer.

His tongue was perfect. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, licking her with slow, languid strokes that had her toes curling. He alternated between flicking his tongue over her clit and sucking gently, each movement so precise, so intentional that she felt like she was losing her mind.

"Shit," she whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His tongue felt like heaven, each flick making her legs tremble and her pull on his hair tightened. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he encouraged it, moaning softly as he worked her over, his hands holding her hips firmly in place.

"C'est ça, tire mes cheveux, bébé. Je veux que tu jouisses sur ma langue" ("That's it, pull my hair, baby. I want you to come on my tongue."), he murmured, his voice husky, sending another jolt of arousal straight to her core.

Ayo could barely breathe, let alone respond, as his mouth worked her closer and closer to the edge. His tongue swirled around her clit before dipping lower, teasing her entrance, then returning to suck her clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Her legs shook harder, the pleasure spiraling through her like nothing she had ever experienced.

"Fuck… oh God…" she gasped, her voice breathless as her orgasm built, her hips moving against his face on their own accord.

Jules didn’t let up, moaning against her as he flattened his tongue, massaging her clit with slow, sensual strokes. Her body was alive, pulsing with heat and tension as he teased her relentlessly, bringing her higher and higher.

"Jules… I’m gonna—" She couldn’t even finish her sentence before the world shattered around her, her orgasm ripping through her with a force that left her breathless.

He groaned in response, his mouth never leaving her, tongue continuing to work her through her climax. The sensation was too much, yet not enough, her body shaking uncontrollably as he lapped at her, moaning against her skin like he was devouring the sweetest meal he'd ever tasted.

Her juices dripped down her thighs, and Jules didn’t waste a drop, his tongue making her body sing with every soft moan he made.

When he finally lifted his head, his lips glistening with her juices, he smirked up at her, eyes dark with satisfaction. "You taste so fucking good, bébé. Je suis déjà accro." ("I'm already addicted."), he murmured.

Ayo was panting, chest heaving as she came down from the high, her mind still spinning. She watched as Jules leaned back on his knees, his lips still glistening from her arousal as he looked down at her, his gaze dark and intense. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breathing ragged as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ayo's pulse raced, her body still trembling from the orgasm he'd just pulled from her. She could feel the heat between them growing, the charged air making it impossible to think clearly.

Ayo slid down the bed, her fingers trailing over his chest, then lower to touch his cock. It was thick, hard, and slightly darker than the rest of his body, a contrast that made her mouth water.

Jules’ cock was beautiful, curved slightly upward, with veins running along the length of him. She wrapped her hand around the base, feeling the weight of him, and slowly began to stroke. He was already leaking pre-cum, the head glistening in the dim light. Ayo smirked as she leaned forward, teasing him with her tongue, licking a slow stripe from the base to the tip. Jules hissed through his teeth, his hand resting at the back of her neck.

"Putain, Ayo… oui, c'est ça" ("Fuck, Ayo… yes, just like that."), he groaned as she swirled her tongue around the head before taking him into her mouth.

She sucked him slowly, taking her time, savoring the feel of him on her tongue, the weight of him pressing against the roof of her mouth. Jules’ hand tightened in her hair as she bobbed her head, her hand working the base of his cock while her mouth worked the rest. His moans grew louder, a mix of French and English curses spilling from his lips as his hips bucked lightly against her face.

"Mon dieu, tu me rends fou" ("My God, you're driving me crazy."), he muttered, his accent thickening as his breathing grew heavier.

Ayo could feel him throbbing against her tongue, the salty taste of pre-cum spreading across her taste buds. She increased her pace, hollowing her cheeks as she took him deeper, gagging slightly but loving the way his grip tightened in her hair. His moans became ragged, and she could tell he was getting close, his hips moving more insistently.

"Ayo, I’m gonna…" Jules groaned, his voice tight, but then he suddenly pulled her off his cock, his breath coming in short gasps. "Non, bébé. I want to come inside you."

He was already moving off the bed, reaching into his suitcase in the corner of the room and pulling out a condom. Ayo laid back, her heart pounding as she watched him tear open the packet and roll it on. He was gorgeous—every inch of him toned, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. He climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs.

Jules grabbed her thighs, spreading her wide, his eyes locked on her still wet, swollen pussy. He stared for a moment, almost mesmerized. "Fuck, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

Jules spit directly onto her pussy, and the warmth of it made her shudder with anticipation. His hand followed, spreading the moisture around as the other guided the head of his cock to her entrance. He rubbed the tip of his dick along her folds, teasing her clit before slowly pushing inside.

The stretch was incredible, the head of his cock thick and filling her inch by inch. Ayo gasped as he moved deeper, her body tight around him, gripping him like a vice. Jules groaned loudly as he pushed in further, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as he pressed forward.

"Christ, you’re so tight," he growled, his eyes locked on the place where their bodies met. "Relax for me, bébé."

He bent her legs, pushing them back toward her ears as he thrust deeper, his cock sinking into her inch by inch until he was fully seated inside her. Ayo whimpered, overwhelmed by how full she felt, how perfectly he stretched her.

Jules paused for a moment, looking down at her with an almost possessive gleam in his eyes. "Tu te sens tellement bien" ("You feel so good."), he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

Then he began to move, slow at first, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in, each movement sending a wave of pleasure coursing through her. His hips moved fluidly, his cock dragging against her walls in a way that made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Look at me," Jules commanded, his voice low and filled with heat. Ayo’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto his. His gaze was intense, burning into hers as he thrust into her harder, deeper. "I want to see you come for me, bébé."

His dirty talk mixed with French had her unraveling beneath him. His pace quickened, his strokes becoming more deliberate, each one hitting a spot inside her that had her gasping, moaning his name. His thumb found her clit, circling it gently as he fucked her harder.

"Tu es à moi ce soir" ("You're mine tonight."), he groaned, his voice ragged.

Yes, yes, whatever you say.

Ayo didn't have a clue what he was saying, but that didn't stop her back from arching violently off the bed as her orgasm slammed into her, her body trembling with wave after wave of raw pleasure. Every nerve seemed to be on fire, and all she could do was hold onto Jules, her nails digging into his biceps as her climax ripped through her.

But Jules wasn’t letting up. Not even close.

"Shit, bébé, that’s it. Come for me," he growled, his deep voice rough with lust as he pounded into her harder, his hips slamming against hers with an unrelenting rhythm. The intense eye contact between them never faltered—his dark eyes burning into hers, his gaze locking her in place as if he owned every inch of her in that moment.

And he did.

Ayo whimpered beneath him, her mind unable to catch up with her body, the sensation of his cock stretching her, filling her, too much but not enough all at once.

"Look at you, fuck," Jules rasped, licking his lips as he watched her lose herself to the pleasure. "Tu es tellement belle comme ça… si putain de sexy" ("You're so beautiful like this… so fucking sexy."), he groaned, his locs falling forward into his face as he thrust into her, his pace picking up even more.

Ayo’s breath hitched as her body tightened around him, her pussy clenching in time with each thrust, and Jules could feel it. "I can feel you, bébé. Tightening around my dick, huh? You’re so fucking close again, aren’t you?" His voice was low, a seductive growl as he licked his lips, eyes glinting with satisfaction.

His words were driving her wild, the dirty talk pushing her deeper into the haze of her pleasure. "Jules, fuck, I can’t—" she tried to speak, but her voice was a breathless whimper, swallowed by the intensity of it all.

"Oh, you can, and you will," he cut her off, his tone commanding. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, spreading her legs wider, so he could get even deeper. He thrust into her, harder, faster, his body relentless as he fucked her through the pleasure. "You gonna come again, bébé? You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. Let me feel you."

Ayo’s body began to tremble uncontrollably, her legs shaking as the pleasure built up inside her once more. Jules knew it too, his eyes locked on her, watching her fall apart beneath him. "That’s right, bébé. Come for me again. Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my cock."

Her second orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body tightening around him as the pleasure surged through her. She screamed his name, her voice breaking as her body shook uncontrollably beneath him.

"Fuck, Ayo, that’s it," Jules groaned, his own body shuddering as he felt her clench around him. He kept thrusting, his hips slamming into hers with powerful strokes, drawing out every ounce of her pleasure. "Good girl… keep coming for me."

Ayo couldn’t stop, her body wracked with aftershocks as her orgasm pulsed through her, her legs trembling around Jules as he continued to fuck her. His locs fell forward, brushing against her face as he leaned down, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she moaned into him, her body still tight around him.

Jules’ thrusts grew erratic, his breathing ragged as he neared his own climax. "Fuck, bébé, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his voice rough as his body tensed. He licked his lips again, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he buried himself deep inside her one last time.

With a guttural moan, he came, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into the condom. His cock throbbed inside her as he held her close, his chest heaving against hers.

For a moment, they were both breathless, tangled together in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat. Jules finally pulled back slightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips still tingling from the intensity of their kisses. His hand slid up her side, resting on her waist as he looked down at her with a satisfied grin.

"You’re fucking amazing, you know that?" he murmured, his voice still husky with desire.

Ayo smiled weakly, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of it all. "You’re not so bad yourself," she managed to tease, her chest still rising and falling heavily.

Jules woke slowly, the soft Kyoto sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. For a moment, he felt disoriented, his body heavy with the satisfying weight of deep sleep. But as the memories of the night before came rushing back, a slow grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Ayo was still beside him, her body curled against the sheets, her breathing steady and peaceful.

He stretched lazily, careful not to disturb her, but his eyes remained fixed on her face. Jules had always enjoyed sex, craved it even, but last night with Ayo… it was different. The way her body responded to his touch, the way her soft moans had filled the room, the way she held onto him as if the world outside ceased to exist—it had flipped something in him. It wasn’t just about release or satisfaction. It was like he’d gotten a taste of something more, and now he was hooked.

Ayo stirred slightly, the soft flutter of her eyelashes and the curve of her lips making him want to pull her closer, to press his lips to her skin. There was something about her that he hadn’t felt with anyone else in a long time—if ever. It wasn’t just lust anymore; it was hunger. A need for more of her. More of the way she’d looked at him when he’d kissed her. More of the way she let him in, trusted him with her body, her pleasure.

He ran a hand through his locs, biting back a groan as he replayed every moment from last night.

Merde, he thought, already feeling that familiar pull.

He hadn’t planned on getting so wrapped up in someone, especially not on a trip like this, but Ayo had crept under his skin.

"Tu m'as rendu accro," Jules whispered to himself, his voice rough with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

The way she’d made him feel last night—like he couldn’t get enough of her, like every inch of her was a mystery he wanted to solve over and over again—it had him craving more. Jules wasn’t naive. He knew that what they had could easily be labeled as a fling, a one-time thing, but he didn’t want it to be. He wanted her again. And again.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, unable to resist the urge to touch her. Lightly, he brushed a finger along the curve of her back, watching her skin react to his touch, goosebumps rising in the trail he left. It was subtle, but it was enough to remind him of how her body had felt under his hands last night, trembling, warm, so responsive.

As Ayo began to stir, her soft murmur pulling him back to the present, Jules' heart thudded in his chest. He wondered what she’d say when she woke up. Would she regret it? Was it just a moment for her? Part of him didn’t care because he knew what he wanted. He wanted more of this. Of her.

Ayo stretched lazily, her eyes fluttering open as she turned slightly toward him. Their gazes met, and for a moment, Jules was unsure what she was thinking. But then she smiled—soft and a little sleepy—and that was all the confirmation he needed.

"Morning," she whispered, her voice a little rough but full of warmth.

Jules' grin widened as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Morning, ma belle. Sleep well?"

Ayo nodded, her fingers brushing his arm lightly as she blinked away the last traces of sleep. "Yeah, I did. You?"

He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he leaned in a little closer. "I slept like a baby… but I’ve gotta admit, I was thinking about waking you up in a different way."

Ayo’s laugh was soft, but she met his gaze with a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "Oh really? And how would you do that?"

Jules raised an eyebrow, the teasing grin tugging at his lips. "Let me show you." He leaned in again, capturing her lips with his, slow at first, but with a heat simmering just beneath the surface. As the kiss deepened, his hand found her waist, pulling her body closer to his, that familiar hunger stirring within him again.

He was already addicted—now, he just had to figure out how to keep her.

His kisses moved from her mouth, trailing down her neck and over her collarbone, each touch a promise of what was to come. Ayo's breath hitched when he reached her inner thigh, his mouth hovering dangerously close to her core. Just as he was about to kiss her there, a loud knock interrupted the moment.

"Yo, Jules ! Tu es réveillé ? On pense à prendre le petit-déjeuner et à visiter les temples. Ça te dit?" Nicholas’ voice rang out from the other side of the door.

Jules cursed under his breath, his forehead resting on Ayo’s thigh in frustration. "Ouais, je passe sur le petit-déjeuner. Je vous rejoins dans un moment," he called back, his voice steady but a little strained. He glanced up at Ayo with a mischievous grin before pushing himself up. "Now where were we?" he asked with a playful smirk.

Ayo blinked, curious. "What did he say?"

Jules sighed. "Just asking about breakfast and the temples. Nothing important."

Ayo raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. "Aren’t you hungry? You did a serious workout last night."

Jules’ grin widened, his cockiness shining through. "Oh, I’m about to have my breakfast." He didn’t waste any more time, lowering himself between her legs, his tongue working expertly against her core. Ayo’s moan echoed in the room, her body arching in response.

"Shh, bébé," Jules murmured, pausing just enough to speak, his breath hot against her skin. "I don’t want my friends to hear all those lovely sounds you’re making. They’re just for me."

Ayo whined softly, rolling her hips teasingly against his mouth. "But, baby… I can't."

Jules chuckled darkly. "Oh, you can." His hands gripped her hips firmly as he rolled her onto her stomach, propping her up so that her ass was in the air. He bent down, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. "Bite the pillow, bébé," he commanded before diving into her again, his tongue licking and sucking from behind with an intensity that made Ayo’s legs tremble.

She moaned into the pillow, the sound muffled but still full of need as Jules worked her with expert precision. Her body tensed, then released as her orgasm washed over her, her thighs shaking with the intensity of it. Jules pulled back slightly, licking his lips as though savoring the taste of her. He gave her ass a playful smack, his voice husky. "Delicious."

With a satisfied grin, Jules walked into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He gently cleaned her off, the intimacy of the gesture making Ayo's heart race. Then he rummaged through his bag and handed her a fresh toothbrush. They brushed their teeth together in comfortable silence, the normalcy of the act juxtaposed against the intensity of their earlier moments. Ayo slipped back into her clothes from the night before, while Jules pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

When they were ready, Jules opened the door, glancing around the suite. The guys weren’t around, thank God. He guided Ayo out, his hand resting protectively on her lower back as they made their way outside and then down the street to her hotel. Jules noticed the way Ayo walked, slightly stiff, and concern flickered across his face.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

Ayo chuckled, a bit sheepishly. "I’m fine. It’s just… it’s been a while."

Jules nodded, understanding but with a knowing grin on his lips. "Gotcha."

When they reached her hotel, Jules surprised her by pulling her close and kissing her deeply. The affection was unexpected, but Ayo melted into it, her hands resting on his chest. She pulled away, slightly breathless, and he flashed her a playful smirk.

"I’ll see you soon," he said, his voice low and promising.

She smiled, walking awkwardly into her hotel lobby. Jules watched her until she disappeared inside, then turned on his heel, heading back to his own hotel to shower and get ready for the day. His mind was already replaying last night, but there was still something about this that felt different—like he was still craving more of her, more of them.

After a quick shower and changing into fresh clothes, Jules met up with the guys in the lobby, who greeted him with knowing smirks.

"J'ai entendu des bruits intéressants venant de ta chambre hier soir," (I heard some interesting noises coming from your room last night,) AK teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jules just smiled, shaking his head. "Un gentleman ne raconte pas ses secrets," ("A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell",) he replied smoothly.

"Allez, mec," ("Come on, man",) Nicholas pressed, kissing his teeth. "C'était Ayo?" ("Was it Ayo?")

Jules remained tight-lipped, but his friends could read the answer in his eyes. They continued to prod for details as they made their way out of the hotel, but Jules wasn't one to share, especially ones that involved Ayo.

As they met up with the girls, the group set off for their day of sightseeing. Their first stop was Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion. The temple's golden façade gleamed in the morning sun, its reflection shimmering on the surface of the tranquil pond surrounding it. Jules found himself constantly stealing glances at Ayo, admiring her beauty.

Somehow, in such a short period, she managed to erase the 'thoroughly fucked' look she was sporting earlier that morning, and now was fresh as a daisy with her hair styled in her signature two puffs and wearing a a baby tee with cargo pants.

They strolled through the meticulously manicured gardens, the gravel crunching softly under their feet. Jules and Ayo lagged slightly behind the group, their hands occasionally brushing as they walked side by side.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jules murmured, gesturing to the scenery around them.

Ayo nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's like something out of a fairy tale," she replied softly.

Their next stop was Fushimi Inari Taisha, with its thousands of vibrant red torii gates winding up the mountainside. The group began the ascent, the vermilion structures creating a tunnel-like effect that seemed to stretch endlessly before them.

As they climbed, Jules found himself walking beside Ayo, their playful banter returning easily despite the intimacy they had shared earlier. She shot him a knowing smile whenever their eyes met, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking about last night, too.

Halfway up, they paused at a clearing that offered a breathtaking view of Kyoto below. While the others snapped photos, Jules and Ayo stood slightly apart, catching their breath.

"Holding up okay?" Jules asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

Ayo raised an eyebrow at him. "I may be sore, but I can handle a little hike," she retorted playfully.

"Just making sure," he said, moving closer to lean in her ear. "I kind of wrecked that little pussy of yours."

His unexpected dirty words made her eyes widen and darken, causing Jules to lick his lips in anticipation, praying that she was yearning just as much as he was for another moment.

"You kinda did, but I'll be alright," she murmured.

"I'm sure you will, ma belle," he winked.

Later in the afternoon, they found themselves wandering through the bustling Nishiki Market. The narrow street was lined with vendors selling everything from fresh seafood to handcrafted knives. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled meats, sweet confections, and the chatter of locals and tourists alike.

They sampled all kinds of local delicacies—skewers of grilled chicken yakitori, chewy mochi in various flavors, and sashimi so fresh it practically melted on their tongues.

As they navigated the crowded market, Jules found himself gravitating towards Ayo. He leaned in close, ostensibly to be heard over the market's din, but really just to feel her nearness.

"You know," he murmured, his lips nearly grazing her ear, "there's still one thing here I'm dying to taste again."

Ayo's cheeks warmed, and she playfully swatted him away, but the look in her eyes told Jules she was thinking along the same lines. Her laughter was soft, mingling with the clamor of the market as they moved past stalls brimming with colorful produce and sizzling street food.

Ayo leaned in close, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well, maybe if you're lucky, you'll get a chance for seconds," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

Before Jules could respond, Nikki appeared beside them. "Hey lovebirds, we gotta go. Sushi making class, remember?"

The group made their way to a traditional Japanese kitchen, where a sushi master waited to guide them through the art of roll-making. Jules and Ayo stood close, their hands occasionally brushing as they prepared their sushi rolls.

"Alright, everyone," the chef said, "let’s get rolling! Start by laying out your seaweed and spreading the rice evenly."

As they worked, the group chatted and joked, taking turns snapping pictures of their culinary creations.

Jules stared at the mess of rice and nori on his bamboo mat, a mixture of frustration and amusement etched on his face. His fingers, usually so deft with a football, seemed hopelessly clumsy as he tried to shape the delicate ingredients.

"Merde," he muttered, his voice a low grumble of defeat. The roll - if you could even call it that - had fallen apart for the third time, looking more like abstract art than anything remotely edible. "I think I'll stick to football."

Ayo leaned over, her shoulder brushing against his as she assessed his handiwork. The warmth of her body so close to his sent a shiver down his spine, momentarily distracting him from his culinary disaster.

"I don't know," she mused, her lips curving into a playful smirk. "It has a certain... abstract charm to it. Very avant-garde sushi, if you ask me."

Jules couldn't help but chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He pulled out his phone, angling it to capture his misshapen creation. "I'm just gonna take your word for it," he said, his eyes meeting hers.

The sushi-making class continued to buzz with laughter and chatter, the air thick with the scent of vinegared rice and fresh fish. Jules found himself speaking with AK and Wilhelm as they recounted the day's adventures.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Symone sidling up to Ayo, her expression playful and knowing. Despite his best efforts to focus on his conversation, Jules couldn't help but tune into their exchange.

"Girl, I see you over here getting cozy with Jules," Symone teased, her voice low but carrying just far enough for Jules to catch. "Maybe you should take another ride on him before the night’s over."

Ayo rolled her eyes. "Nah, I don't want to seem like I'm thirsty."

Symone waved a dismissive hand. "Bitch, that man wouldn’t mind if you were in his bed every night. You have ten days left until we never see these men again. Make it count, Ayo."

Jules felt a jolt at Symone's words, the reality of their impending separation hitting him hard. The revelation that their time together was limited, that this vibrant connection with Ayo might end soon, struck him like a sudden gust of wind. He hadn’t fully grasped how much her presence had become a highlight of his days, how the mere sound of her laughter had become something he anticipated.

As he refocused on AK and Wilhelm’s conversation, nodding along with forced ease, Jules’s mind was a whirlwind. How could he turn this vacation connection into something more lasting?

One thing was certain – he wasn't ready to let Ayo go just yet. Not when it felt like they were just getting started.

accordingtoayo • posted on her story 6 hours ago

Ayo laid back on Jules’ bed, her mind a flurry of conflicting thoughts.

Am I dickmatized now? Because sex should never be this good.

Ayo had always cherished the emotional connections in her relationships, with sex being a gratifying addition, a cherry on top. Her previous boyfriends had never managed to make her body react like this—never made her mewl, beg, and whine for more. Vibrators had once been her go-to for the ultimate satisfaction, eliminating the need for a partner to meet her needs. But Jules was different. Potent, eager, and incredibly skilled, he blended sweetness and dominance in a way that was both thrilling and dangerous. It was an addictive combination, making her wonder how she could possibly give this up when their vacation ended.

Barcelona isn’t that far, an intrusive voice whispered in her head. The thought was tempting—European travel was relatively easy compared to crossing states. But could she really take that leap? Would she for him?

The way Jules had devoured her, like she was his Last Supper, was something she never experienced before. It was raw, uninhibited, and intensely pleasurable. It was a level of passion she hadn't anticipated, nor had she ever imagined she’d crave it so much.

But oh, did she enjoy it. At least until the inevitable goodbye.

As Jules pulled away from her core, his breath hot and ragged, he gave her a sly smile. His voice, a low, commanding purr with that tantalizing French accent, wrapped around her like a promise. "Chérie, ride me," he said, his English words laced with a French lilt that made his request sound both urgent and seductive.

Ayo swallowed hard, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of his touch. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a condom, his eyes never leaving hers as he sheathed himself. The sight of him so confident, so assured, only heightened her anticipation. She nodded, her hands reaching out for his shoulders as she positioned herself above him.

As she began to ride him, her movements tentative at first, then gaining confidence, her thoughts raced. The pleasure was intense, the friction exquisite. Jules’s hands roamed over her hips, guiding her, his eyes locked on hers with a mixture of intensity and affection.

"Tu es tellement magnifique comme ça," he murmured in French, his voice a velvety crone that made her shiver. His gaze held hers, a smoldering look that made her feel both desired and cherished.

"Jules," she gasped, her voice breathy with pleasure. "You feel so… amazing."

He responded with a soft chuckle, his lips brushing against her ear. "C’est ce que je veux entendre (That’s what I want to hear)," he said. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumb and fingers teasing her nipples, making her moan in response.

Ayo’s movements became more fluid, her rhythm steady as she rode him. Jules’s grip on her breasts tightened, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to taste her nipples, sending waves of pleasure through her.

"Such a good girl," he praised, his voice a mixture of adoration and dominance.

Ayo’s body arched as she felt him spank her ass playfully, the mix of pleasure and pain making her gasp. As she continued to ride him, her moans filled the room, the connection between them both electrifying and comforting. Jules’s touch, his voice, the way he commanded yet adored her—it was all addictive. The pleasure, the intimacy—it was everything she had been missing, and she couldn’t help but wonder how she would cope when the vacation came to an end.

Jules’s relentless focus on her, coupled with his soothing yet authoritative voice, pushed Ayo to new heights of pleasure. His grip on her hips was firm but tender, guiding her movements with expert precision. Each time she sank down, the sensation of him inside her brought forth a mix of delight and desperation.

"Look at me," Jules instructed softly, his eyes boring into hers. "I want to see that beautiful face of yours as you come apart for me."

Ayo’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with every thrust. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, and she saw nothing but raw desire reflected back at her. The connection was electric, and she could feel the heat of his passion melding with her own. Her rhythm quickened, driven by the mounting pressure inside her.

"You’re taking this so well," Jules praised, his voice a throaty mix of admiration and raw lust. Jules’s hands slid to her ass again, kneading the flesh before delivering another firm, pleasurable smack.

The sting of his hand on her ass combined with the pleasure of his cock made Ayo cry out, her moans spilling from her lips as she moved harder against him. Jules’s words were a mix of command and caress, pushing her closer to the brink.

"Come on this dick," he urged, his voice a low growl. His eyes remained locked on hers, a dangerous glint in them as he watched her unravel.

Ayo’s body was a symphony of pleasure and need, her moans growing louder as she approached her climax. "Jules," she gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she felt the edge of her climax drawing near. "I’m... I’m so close."

He responded with a smirk, his expression one of both satisfaction and anticipation. He knew he had brought her to this point, and he couldn't wait to feel her release. "I know, bébé," he said, his own voice rough with need. "I can feel you tightening around me. Let go for me."

With a guttural cry, Ayo's body convulsed in ecstasy, her climax washing over her in waves. Jules followed soon after, his own release overtaking him as he buried himself deep inside her.

As Ayo’s breathing began to slow, Jules gently rolled over, bringing her with him, until she was nestled comfortably against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his arms encircling her in a protective embrace.

Ayo let out a contented sigh, her body still tingling from the aftermath of her orgasm. Jules’ touch was warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the intensity they had just experienced.

"Hey," Jules murmured, his voice a low rumble as he looked down at her. "You okay?"

Ayo nodded, her voice muffled against his chest. "Yeah, just…thinking."

Jules chuckled softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on her back. "Mmhmm, let me clean you up."

He gently disentangled himself from her and reached for a condom, carefully disposing of it in the trashcan. Then he grabbed a washcloth from the nightstand and wiped her clean with tender care, his touch gentle and considerate.

"Sorry for the mess," he said with a playful smirk, his eyes warm and affectionate.

Ayo smiled up at him, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of their passion. "No need to apologize."

Jules settled back down beside her, patting the space next to him. "Come closer," he murmured, his voice soft and inviting.

Ayo shifted closer, resting her head on his firm, muscled chest. She let out a contented sigh as she snuggled against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek.

"You know," Jules said, his voice filled with a soft seriousness, "I really like us like this. Just chilling after sex. It feels… good."

Ayo smiled, her fingers lightly grazing his chest. "I do too."

Jules’s hand rested on her back, his touch soothing. "You feel so good," he admitted, his voice a mix of vulnerability and affection. "It’s like I can’t get enough of you."

Ayo tilted her head slightly, looking up at him with a soft, sleepy smile. "Same, you're like some drug I can't kick. Too good."

Eventually, Jules’s breathing evened out, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest and his light snores filled the room. As Ayo lay nestled against Jules, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment, she found her thoughts drifting. Despite the blissful haze of satisfaction, a soft tension tugged at the edges of her mind.

Did she like him too soon? Or was it just the allure of the vacation, the foreign city, and the intoxicating allure of a man who seemed to understand her body in ways no one had before? It wasn’t just the sex, though God knew that was incredible—it was how easy it felt with Jules. How their bodies fit together, sure, but also how their conversations flowed, how his teasing smile could light up her day, how his quiet moments felt more intimate than any words they could exchange.

She shifted slightly in his arms, feeling the strength in his embrace even as he slept. Could she give this up when the trip ended? Barcelona wasn’t that far from London. Hell, she’d flown longer for work meetings.

Ayo let out a quiet sigh, her breath mingling with Jules’ soft snores and the darkness of the room. The thought of never seeing Jules again after this trip created a pit in her stomach she wasn’t ready to deal with. For now, though, she’d just focus on this—on him, on this moment.

accordingtoayo - Kyoto, Japan

liked by jkeey4, symonenotbiles, gigithegreatest, nikkigal, and others

accordingtoayo: kyoto, you have my heart ♥️ ⛩️🍡

view all 290 comments….

jamaal_erickson: still not answering my calls? wtf ayo?

jkeey4: 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

jamaal_erickson: nigga who tf are you replying to my girls’ IG?

symonenotbiles: my bestie is a baddie 😝

gigithegreatest: 😍😍😍😍😍

nikkigal: why are you this fine, ma’am?? 😭😭

TO BE CONTINUED....

[batsclass101-blog]

Dead People Book Club - Part 5

————-

The pit shriveled into silence as Jason glanced at the figure standing in his safe house. He knew the stance and form… but the soot and flaming persona was throwing him off.

“Jason?…” Hero’s voice cracked. Everything was blurry and her knees folded.

“Shakespeare!” Jason caught the trembling girl. No fear of burning touched his mind. Hiding his own tremors he settled his friend onto his couch.

Hero’s eyes rolled back and any flame about her was snuffed out. She was safe, Jason’s place felt like safety. Her mind shuttered off and she drifted into darkness.

“Alive…” Jason fumbled with the useless domino mask he’d been wearing. “And she knew me.” He shook his head, Shakespeare had always been smart.

Gentle hands traced Hero’s limbs and once the antihero was satisfied he checked her pupils. She was concussed but no bones were broken.

A sigh of relief escaped Jason and he ran a hand over his face. She was alive and apparently a new meta. He settled on the edge of the couch to keep watch. If this was a dream he didn’t want it to end. It’d been too long since someone outside his family wanted him. He wanted Hero to need his friendship as much as he needed hers.

‘It can’t be a dream…” His eyes closed and sleep engulfed him.

———-

Hero woke with a start and the sensation of air too cold against her skin. Her eyes snapped open and unfamiliar surroundings glared at her. Bright morning light glared through a window and she froze. Where was she? Had she been kidnapped?

Turning her gaze, the young woman saw the back of a hulking figure. The scent of frying bacon and pancakes eased her anxiety. What kidnapper cooked for their hostage? The true soother of her fear was the familiarity of the figures back. Jason!

Heart in her throat, Hero pushed herself to the edge of the couch and stood. The world shifted for a moment and her sight glazed over with flickering flame and she found herself standing beside Jason!

“What !—“ Jason nearly tossed the pan he’d been holding. “Don’t do that!” He glared and settled the pan back on the burner.

“I… what?” Hero blinked in surprise. A moment ago she’d been standing from the couch, with the simple desire to see Jason.

“Breakfast is almost ready. We’ll talk after.” Jason plated the food slowly as Hero slipped silently to the table.

He’d spent much of his time around metas, but sometimes he still was thrown off balance. He took a steadying breath and joined Hero.

Silence reigned as the meal was consumed, until Jason glanced up. He froze mid-drink as he noted Shakespeare’s gaze. Her eyes were flaming pools of amber and soft red. The flames were alive, glowing and warm. He swallowed hard… most time flaming eyes were unsettling but hers were soft. The feeling of soft acceptance wrapped around him.

“So. You’re a meta?”

“Uh… I guess. It’s news to me.”

“Ok, Sparky.” Jason tried to scoff. “I thought you died.”

“Ditto.” Hero’s eyes narrowed. “I.. mean.”

“You’re right.” Jason’s jaw ticked and he felt the pit rumble.

“I don’t know what happened… I was hanging on a ledge over flames.”

“Gotham’s a health hazard. Especially Crime Alley.”

Hero snorted and sipped her coffee.

“So… am I a hostage? I can’t remember how I got here.”

“…Not a hostage.” Jason looked at her intently. “I pulled you from the flames of a candle…. That sounds ridiculous!”

“It’s Gotham. Anything’s possible.” Rolling her eyes, Hero stood and stretched. “Why is your place so hot?”

“I think it’s you.”

“Are you flirting, Jason?” Hero cut her flaming eyes at him and a grin touched her lips. “Not that I mind.”

“There’s extra clothes under the sink and the shower is open.” He stood in a huff and grabbed the empty plates. “Doors the second on the left”

Sometimes he wondered how he got involved in the situations that he did. He did the dishes up as the bathroom door closed. How was he supposed to process the strange feelings rising in him?

[sad-scarred-sassy]

The tragedy of Spring🥀 - Chapter 6

Summary: Feyre Archeron finds out the truth.

Notes: I needed to get this out before it drove me insane! I hope you guys like it.

Read on AO3 or keep reading below the cut.

“You will be mine” She heard his voice, soft, vibrating over her body and luring her through the haze.

“And I will be yours” She felt his fingers on her waist, the place where she had felt them on her all night, moving her, guiding her. She felt a creeping sensation throughout her body, emerging from the pit of her stomach, screaming at her to run, but when she opened her eyes she saw stars and a universe of calm and comfort. A voice in her mind told her to run towards it, to grasp it and bathe herself in it, in the feeling, in his touch, his words.

But her body felt paralyzed, unsure.

Through the fog in her world she conjured a thought. “I don’t need you” She tried to get away, but his hands held her to him and she couldn’t help but stay still under them.

“Oh but you do” He said, voice soft and breathy, like a beautiful viper. “I can give you what you want, what you need. I can keep you safe”

“Safe?” The word felt so foreign to her now.

“Nothing bad will ever happen to you by my hand” He breathed on her skin and her body reacted. “That’s my word”

She knew something was off, something she couldn’t place, like when trying to hold on to a dream but feeling it slip away.

“Say it. Say it, Feyre” His breath hit her neck and her body trembled, urging her to speak or to flee, she wasn’t sure. The world was too dark, her body felt too tired and she was so desperate for that light, shining from his star-flecked eyes.

“I am yours, you are mine” She chanted, her words coming out monotonously, her vision blurring, hands and legs tingling.

“Perfect” She heard him say. “Close your eyes and rest, my mate ”

——

“Feyre”

She felt a pang in her stomach, like a rock had been dropped inside of it, painfully and all at once. Her arms and legs lost all strength as she looked into her sister’s wide and shocked eyes. She heard a horrible, consistent ringing in her ears, like a woman screeching inside her head, maybe that was her.

“You will be mine. And I will be yours”

Rhysand’s voice rang inside her mind. It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake, Elain had to be mistaken.

“Feyre, calm down” Elain said, but she wasn’t calm herself, she looked lost too. It didn’t reassure her in the least.

“Y-you have to be mistaken” She felt herself say.

“Feyre I-“ Her brown eyes were glossy, tears beginning to form. Feyre couldn’t accept it.

“No! He’s my mate! I felt it, I felt him!” She was yelling now, but her sister only watched her.

“What I showed you, I didn’t make it up” She said softly, holding her hand tightly, as if she may disappear.

Feyre stared at her and it dawned on her then. How the moment she had come back from the dead she hadn’t felt it anymore, that tether to him that used to be like a piece of her soul, like he owned some of hers the way she owned some of his. How it had been easier to separate her thoughts from him then, easier to reject him, easier to want to leave him. He had broken the bargain.

“Nothing bad will ever happen to you by my hand”

She realized she was hyperventilating when Elain got to her feet and told her to breathe with her, to calm down. But she couldn’t calm down, because she was inside a nightmare, her world was falling apart, her life was a complete lie.

Why? The question popped inside her head and she couldn’t find an answer.

Why? Why? Why?

She realized she was chanting it, holding herself, rocking back and forth. Elain was trying to hold her together, but she was panicking herself.

“What’s happening?” She heard a familiar voice ask. Lucien. She started sobbing then.

“Lucien, help me. You need to get Nesta” The world was a vacuum, the voices were muffled. She needed more air or she was going to die.

“What is happening Elain? Why is she having a panic attack?”

“Listen” Elain rose. “I think we could be in danger, just get Nesta and don’t tell anyone. Not Azriel, not Cassian, not Rhysand. Please”

A moment later Elain was holding her hand again.

“Feyre, listen to me.” Her voice was so clear and solid she had to obey. “You need to breathe slowly, or you will pass out” She held her face in her small hands. “Listen to me, everything will be okay”

“No, it won’t Elain” She was sobbing, her head was throbbing and her whole body was shaking. “Why would he do this? Why would he make me do this?”

“I don’t know” Elain was trying not to cry.

As if on cue she heard Nyx’s cry from his nursery room.

A second rock, a bigger, more disgusting rock dropped inside her stomach and she looked up at Elain’s face with a horrified expression.

“No” Elain whispered. She shook her head softly. “It couldn’t be” But her brown eyes cleared, and she could see the truth hitting her in the face.

“An heir” She coughed.

Something inside of her snapped, and she stood up, running towards his room. She almost tripped a few times, dodging vases and furniture as she kept going towards the voice of her son crying.

When she finally arrived she almost threw herself at him, picking him up and cradling him in her trembling arms.

Feyre Archeron knew two things. One, the love of her life had lied to her, manipulated her and used her. Two, she would not let anyone take her baby away from her.

Elain caught up to her, Lucien and Nesta trailing behind her with concerned faces.

“Feyre-“ Nesta said, her grey eyes looking at her with such concern it made her want to keep crying. She looked at her older sister straight in the eyes.

“Run” She said and she winnowed.

——

When she arrived in Spring, she didn’t have any time to question herself, question why she had come here, she only had time to hold her baby tight to her body, as if scared someone might rip him away from her at any moment, and started running through the thick foliage of the forest. She knew she was close to the old manor, she had memorized these woods thoroughly.

Her bare feet were aching as she kept going, Nyx crying in her arms as she felt her own tears stream down her face. She was scared and hurt, and she couldn’t stop crying too.

When she finally reached the old manor she halted abruptly as she saw faeries of all kinds stopping whatever they were doing to look at her curiously.

Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she looked at their faces. Fae of all colors, shapes and sizes appeared to be working on the manor, reconstructing it. In that moment she felt the guilt of her past actions hit her like a thunder.

There she was running for help to the place she willingly destroyed, condemned thousands and never looked back. She wanted someone to step up and kill her right then and there. To make her pay. Make it all go away. The fae folk only stared at her some more.

“Feyre Cursebreaker?” One of them said and she couldn’t help a sob.

She shouldn’t be here, she should leave. Go somewhere else, somewhere no one will know.

“Feyre?” A voice soft but low that she knew all too well said from her back. She swirled to look at him, as if she couldn’t help it.

She saw his green eyes first, his tied golden hair second, strands falling on his perfect but sweaty face.

“Tamlin” She choked slightly. She looked down at her baby and then at him again. “I need-I don’t know where else to go and I-we need help” She sobbed, feeling like the worst person, the smallest most pathetic worm in the universe as he approached her slowly, as if scared she may run away, with only deep concern in his emerald gaze. As much as she looked for it, she couldn't find one hint of gloating in his eyes, not a pinch of contempt. She only wanted to crumble down and cry.

When he stepped in front of her, hands up as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, he steadied a breath.

“What do you need?”

----

The wrath of a High Lord was something Nesta Archeron had been strangely acquainted with by now. When Rhysand snarled in her face, waves of dark power emanating from his tall frame as his muscles rippled, she didn't even flinch. 

“You let her leave” He spat at her, staring her down. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know” She said, but her own anger was already beginning to drown her, she could feel the cold fire tingling in her fingers, waiting, like a snake before it strikes. 

“I said, where is she?!” He screamed, pushing the table that had been between them like it was nothing, making it crash against the wall with a loud thump. She only stared at him, unamused. 

“Rhys, let’s just calm down” Her mate’s voice sounded from her side. Cassian was wincing with each word spoken, unsure what to do, what to say. She tightened her fisted hands, the weight of Ataraxia on her hip comforting her. “I’m sure whatever is going on can be resolved if we all just calm down” 

Feyre had told her to run, but she would be damned before she did that. Nesta Archeron would never cower before a male ever again, she had promised herself that, and this one wasn’t any different, most powerful High Lord or not. Besides, she wanted to be the one to have the pleasure of delivering the news.

“No” She said and both males pinned their eyes on her. She pointed at Rhysand. “He is a liar” She made sure her voice was clear and sharp as Cassian’s eyes only looked more shocked by the second. “He machinated a mating bond with my sister, your so-called High Lady, made her seal a bargain and then made sure she forgot about it” She cocked her head at Rhysand. “Now she knows, and she left you”

Rhysand’s face was suddenly displaying a cold, calculated fury she had the displeasure of knowing too well.

“No, that’s not true, where did you come up with something like that?” Cassian was saying, but her eyes were on the High Lord. When Rhysand didn’t utter a word, Cassian became more agitated. “Rhys, what-” 

“Tell him” She said softly, tenderly, like speaking to a toddler. “Tell him what you did to her. You can also mention all the ways in which you tormented her Under The Mountain, then pretended to be her savior” She savoured the venom in her tongue. 

Shadows sizzled in the corner and she knew Azriel had been listening for a long while.

“Rhys?” Cassian tried, but Rhysand’s violet eyes were fixed on her, weighing what to do, probably planning how to kill her without making Cassian go mad.

“She took my son” He said and the whole house trembled. 

“She took her son” Nesta said. “She died for him, remember?” She was sure he would try to kill her now.

“Rhys tell me this is not true” Cassian was pacing now, his heavy steps reverberating through the wooden floors of the River House. “It cannot be true”

“It is” A melodic voice sounded from her periphery. Azriel. “You did that to her. You made her believe she was your mate? How could you do that?” Azriel’s shadows swarmed him, the anger and betrayal on his face was cold and horrifying.

Rhysand’s eyes left her for a second to look at his favorite subject. “I had no choice”

Nesta scoffed, Cassian ran his hands through his long hair. 

“I will not repeat myself, where is she?” He commanded with such force her body fought to stay still. She straightened. 

“I don’t know, and even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you even if you made him torture me” She pointed at Azriel, who was stiffly looking at his High Lord. Centuries of blind loyalty and undying brotherhood, hanging by a thread, a thread she had no issues in cutting. “I will leave now, and if you try to stop me, I will make you eat shit”

She turned to leave but Cassian held her back. “Wait, Nesta let’s just, let’s hear him out” 

“No” She said. “I don’t give a fuck about his reasons. There is no justification, not this time” She spat. Her mate’s amber eyes were devastated, lost, like he was a stranded child, he looked like he may cry, and she didn’t fault him for that. She tightened her fists again as she fought the urge to simply stay, give in to him and comfort him. But she couldn’t, and Cassian knew it, he was trying to deny it but he knew there was no coming back from this.

She looked at Rhysand one more time and her eyes of steel met the violet fury of his. He disgusted her. “Leave her alone, or I will put you down, and you know I don’t make false promises”